Arrow logic

Audax is a cycling niche within a cycling niche, and inside that there are many other niches - AAA awards, fixed awards - but the one kind of ride I had never managed to drag myself too is the Arrow. My excuse has always been family holidays but now my son has attained the age where he can take himself to the pub, so when Elliott messaged me saying their ACME team was one short and asked if I would like to join the train I had no reason to say no.

At this juncture I have to point out that I have been challenged by an Ancien (a multiple PBP finisher) to write a piece about cycling with no self-doubt in it. His response to me after reading something off my blog was, ‘I just start, then ride to the finish.’ This attitude explains why he is a supremo and I am numpty and in that Zen-like like statement there is wisdom that I am going to learn from.

Zen archery. Arrow logic. You can see the master at the range, pulling the string cleanly back and letting go in between breaths. An arrow is subject to all the imperatives of thermodynamics; it cannot reverse its path, it cannot undecide to go forward, it has no doubt. So I am going to try to write a wholly positive piece about starting and riding to the finish without excessive, circuitous, self examination.

I’m not sure I can do it.

See, I failed already.

Four years ago I wouldn’t have blinked at 400, but my lockdown involved working even harder than usual and, without the target of LEL, my fitness and motivation fell off a cliff. I’ve been picking up the riding again this year and had a couple of two hundreds in the bank so it was time to up the distance. So, without any self-doubt at all, I said yes to Elliott

And then I turned up to the start without having looked at the route or schedule and didn’t even know the team name. I did know Elliot and Alan. And they knew Nick, so, in the way that Audax friendships work, Nick was alright by me. I had ridden a good stretch of PBP with Elliot and he is a similar style of rider to me and Alan had always been stronger than me, so I knew he would be good for the distance and I could probably grovel in his slipstream if things got bad.

There were two others things I did know. One was that it was a team event; three have to finish. What this means in practice is that you have to wait and help to fix mechanicals, you have to be careful with pacing and you have to talk to each other. For 24 hours. When do you ever talk to the same three other people for 24 hours?

I also knew that you could start anywhere and had to ride a minimum of 400km in 24hours to end up in a Weatherspoons in York. Turns out that was completely wrong.

After introductions in the car park the four of us rode off. I was heartened to see that both Alan and Nick were riding single speed bikes - that would mean there was a sensible limit on top speed and though they would be riding too fast for me up any hills, I could catch them on the downs.

Easter is hit and miss for weather and luckily we got a decent one. No snow at least. An unusual northerly meant a lot of headwind but it wasn’t truly terrible. We rolled up and down the familiar lumps from Knebworth over to Saffron Walden and sat down for second breakfast. In a pattern that would be repeated many times Captain Alan gave us a leaving time and we worked too it, or else.

Ahh, Wetherspoons. It’s like a universal constant. The only change since I last entered the doors of this fine chain was the renaming of the Gluten Free Breakfast to ‘Freedom breakfast’. A victory of branding over utility, but exactly the same contents and the same 15 minute service time guarantee.

At this point I actually looked at my laminated schedule card and saw how detailed it was. Leg distances and scheduled and final timings for each control. I had tried to do something like this for PBP and failed so I know, while it looks easy, it is anything but. The thing that makes it tricky is pace. For a 400 you know that riding in the day is going to be quicker than at night due to fatigue, but how much quicker? What’s the wind doing? How much time do you leave for mechanicals? I have to admit I didn’t refer to the card at all during the ride and left all of that to Alan, who did an excellent job of being our travelling administrative assistant and ring master.

After this breakfast we set off Newmarket way. It was a lovely clear day and seeing the clumps of daffodils beside the road and green in the fields was a great reminder that spring was really here. The wind was still cold though and we all suffered with ‘now I feel over-dressed, now under’ all through the day. My feet haven’t been warm once this year and they remained icy the whole way.

And so we chipped away. The pace was on the upper end of just about easy enough for me. I have a power meter which I use to regulate my exertion. Most of the time I am trying to ride ‘double blue’ which means active recovery rate for heath and power. When heart or power go orange, I slow down. I realise this is not very Zen, that a Zen rider would just know to do that, but I find it a useful device to quell the brief flashes of youthful athleticism that wear me out.

All of the rest of the day stops were quick ‘smash and grabs’. The Audax highlight was the service station in Wisbech, a ten out of ten Audax stop: Petrol station, ring road, boy racers, a wall to sit on, Costa machine, tail to tail traffic, lovely.

At dusk we took a longer stop at Sainsbury’s in Bourne and I stocked up on some Gluten Free supplies to get me through the multiple Mcdonald's stops for the night; Gluten Free sandwiches, pitta bread and some hot cross buns. After all of us togging up for the expected cold night we set off again, on schedule but not very far ahead of it - that headwind.

We had taken an alternative route through the Fens so at least there were new flat straight roads to look at and north of Bourne we took a lovely route, gently rising and falling through the sunset, blues and oranges blending through the sky and down towards dark.

And then the moon came up. Almost full, daisy yellow, like a pale sun. Cold fog settled in the fields. Trees, still bare and spiked, were like sharp cracks of glass against the blue-black sky. Distant cities signalled by the orange tint in the gathering cloud. I had forgotten how much I like night riding.

Alan called for an easing of the pace. Night pace was a good 2 klicks slower and at this point I knew we had a good captain. While I wasn’t struggling with the pace this was my first 400 in three years - this pace would get me to the finish in decent shape. Obviously I had no self-doubt at all previously, so this pace confirmed my lack of self-doubt was well-founded.

We were soon on our ‘rinse-repeat’ night cycle; 60km or so followed by a Macdonald’s stop. While it was pretty cold I found a decent balance of clothes and we alternated between talking a lot and quietly drifting along, each in our own thoughts, trying to ignore the inevitable minor niggles of discomfort. The wind died right off so it was pretty easy going, ticking over the kilometres. I did my best to skulk at the back behind the stronger riders and probably did less than my fair share.

If I was writing about doubt I would mention Zeno’s Arrow Paradox; an arrow in flight is, at any point in time, completely still and therefore will never arrive at the target. But that would be a self-defeating thought, and I was having none of those.

At the Scunthorpe Mcdonalds I put into practise the only new skill gained in lockdown - the 15 minute nap. So few people go into the office now that, if I am a bit tired, I will lie down on a banquette at lunch, set my timer for 15 and have a restorative nap. Could I do the same on a hard bench in a brightly lit Mcdonalds at 3am?

Turns out I can. Excellent discovery.

Then back out on the road. Through the night I realised I had the Arrow rules all wrong. Turns out the minimum is 360km - but why do 360 when another 40km get’s you another precious audax point? And if you wanted to you can change your route on the fly to make more or less distance as long as you are basically riding consistently for 24 hours and still hit your controls. You must ride over 25km in the last two hours and if you find yourself at the finish too early you are meant to keep riding up the road and turn back to finish near time.

So, in doing an Arrow, you can overshoot the target as long as the arrow turns again and hits the target at the right time. Got that? Ah, Audax… A niche within a niche for sure. For the full Arrow experience obviously I need to do it fixed gear for the full four nesting niches: Cycling, Audax, Arrow, Fixed.

Alan, again in a stroke of planning genius, had us leaving the final Mcdonalds at Goole as the sun came up in an astonishing splurge of purple and orange. From there it was a slow and steady ride towards York, across some of the worst road surfacing I had ever experienced, and into the delightfully nineties Weatherspoons at York for a couple of breakfasts while listening to other teams’ experiences, with a pint for the braver amongst us.

The route was flat and then planning was immaculate and I am not overly fit at the moment, but I did realise that I knew how to ride continuously for 24 hours. Despite the covid break I had the knowledge needed to finish and realised that much of this Audax lark is experience based. I really enjoyed the team riding and the time pressure of the Arrow reminded me of the pace and attitude you need for a good PBP. Also, there’s a trophy up for grabs. The Robert Milsom York Velocio Trophy. You will need to ride hard to claim it though - the record is 564km.

Many convenience stores, four Audax points, three mcdonalds, three excellent companions, two wetherspoons, my first proper ride for the year and zero self doubt. Perfect.

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