Report: Ullapool Mor Sportive 2015
21 Sep 2015| Date | September 19, 2015 |
| Distance | 83 miles / 133.6km |
| Elevation Gain | 8,735 feet / 2,662m |
| Conditions | Dry. Cloudy. Temp: 13°C Wind: 4mph SE |
| Route | https://www.strava.com/routes/3199747 |
| Official Time | 05:18:11 (12th) |
A few years back when I had just started cycling, I watched the Rapha Continental "Assynt" movie. It left an impression on me. I'd watched plenty of videos of the big climbs on the continent, and by that time was following le Tour, but this was different. This was shot in Scotland. It was moody, it looked wet and miserable. And accessible. One day I would definitely have the chance to ride those roads. I'd never been to the Assynt area. I'd never listened to the shipping forecast. I'd never bought trendy and expensive cycling clothes, particularly caps, but I could ride those roads and see those sights.
So this was my chance to re-enact that movie. My kit was to be the green and blue of COG Velo - Champion Systems not Rapha. I didn't listen to the shipping forecast in the morning, because I planned to ride my bike on the road. Also, happily, the weather wasn't bleak and moody. A bit chilly in the morning, not much Sun, but it was braw day for a cycle: no wind of note.
While the video is beautifully shot and has a fitting piece of poetry attached to it, the conditions and faces of the cyclists featured really tell the story. I looked at the route profile: Ten miles less than the Bealach Mor, with more elevation gain and no big climbs of note. This was going to be tough, this story was going to be about legs!
There were to be four Coggers on this challenge. Clogs and I made the journey up on Friday night staying at the Ledgowan bunkhouse, we'll enjoy a weeks break up here with family (once our legs have healed). Fran and Steve Crawford were in as well.
We got together at about 8, meeting in the car park. Plenty of time to get last minute prep sorted. Most of us added air to our tyres, checked brakes and shifting. I had to turn my hastily installed bottle cage the right way up - idiot!
By 9am, we were at the start line. This time there was no crazy COG-style jump everyone at the lights and burn from the off. This time, we look it easy(ish). Fran was happy to set her own pace so we said our goodbyes before the first turn took us on to the main road. There was a decent sized group with us. We set a steady pace off the front. Up the first climb out of Ullapool and that green shirt that I kept glimpsing wasn't Clogs. Steve's phone buzzed so we stopped and let the group go. Fran had a mechanical just as we left her. Clogs stopped to assist.
Steve and I descended back into Ullapool, getting plenty of "you're going to wrong way" patter in the process. I thought "It was funny the first time, it'll be funnier when we pass you in a few minutes...suckerrrrrs!". We regrouped and set off. False start.
I had no idea how the day would pan out. How do you pace yourself for a route that is almost completely undulating? My strategy was to just take each climb as it came. Spin easy at the bottom, and finish with a bit of power. Rest as much as possible on the descents and no crazy hard pulls at the front on the flats. Sensible. This course should surely suit Steve more than Clogs and I, so we'd be saying goodbye to him at some point.
In the first section of the course, the stretch of A935 out of Ullapool, I didn't take in much. It was a bit lumpy, we passed many of those "suckers" from the start but that was it. Clogs mentioned something about not feeling it today, that he'd probably peel off at some point soon. He didn't though, and we kept the three-up COG train in motion. We turned left onto the single track road that leads to Achnahaird. Two things happened, 1. I get attacked my midges (I stared in envy at the other two with their leg warmers on). 2. We catch a glimpse of the imposing Stac Pollaidh. We weren't long on this road before it revealed itself - we were heading straight for it. This was a good road to be on as long as you weren't in shorts! Clogs was happy setting a good pace on the front and we let him.
It was still lumpy though. We turned up onto the road that leads to Lochinver, it leads us upwards and Steve mentions there are some big steep bits up here. I hit a stone on the turn, my front wheel bobbles but I hold it. Dodgy moment. The descent off the back of that climb was fantastic, winding, steep, technical. Clogs and Steve reveled in it. I saw them move out of sight. I had lost my nerve on the gravelly bits. Hanging on my brake most of the way down. A few other guys turned up and came past me. Damn it, I was going to be dropped because I couldn't descend. I then had the first inkling from my legs that they might be ready to play ball today. I had to bridge the gap once we reached the bottom. The road predictably started pointing up, and a burst of power got me back on. In the melee of up and downs, we seem to gain and drop riders constantly. Our pace generally seemed too high for most.
Lochinver. There was a feed stop there. A guy on a nice Merida in Ben Wyvis club kit who came flying down a descent past us pulled in there, we didn't. Steve recommended the pie shop. Not today though. There was more climbing and descending to do. Lots more.
Not far out of Lochinver, is the split between the "Mor" and the "Beag" routes. We turned left into what proved to be the hardest part of the route. Those up and downs seemed to be getting steeper. We catch more riders ahead. A guy in a vintage Molteni jersey is among them. They stick around on the incredible coastal road. The three of us are still together. It seems to follow the same pattern: Steve and Clogs hit the hill first. I stick it in the granny, spin past Clogs, almost catch Steve, get overtaken by Clogs on the descent. Rinse. Repeat.
We reach Nedd, gadgie place. Ha. Lolz. Nedd has the last laugh though, as the gradient really bites. 15% - out of the saddle for that - no, I'm lifting the front wheel up. Back in the saddle and grind. Molteni guy is there, spinning. He's packing a 34-32 or something. We get past the worst bit yet the climb carries on. Steve is still in sight. I keep him there. Looking back, Clogs doesn't seem too far. We are stretched out though. For the first time today the COG train is faltering.
I put down a bit of effort and catch Steve. I look behind me and Clogs is still just in sight. Cool. Steve questions where the feedstop is as we crest yet another up. I hadn't even considered stopping, but I needed the toilet. Where was Clogs though - couldn't see him anywhere. We pull into the feedstop. I eat shortbread and fill up my one empty bottle with water, by this time there's quite a bunch of guys doing the same. I go for a whizz and Clogs and Steve shout that they'd head off and cruise to keep warm: I would catch them.
The road goes up immediately after the stop. This is the only longer climb of the day. Clogs is in sight, in a group, Steve is a good bit further up the road. That isn't "cruise" pace! I make it back to Clogs. He informs me that he's in "limp home mode". This time I believe him. My next target is Steve, but he's out of sight. I put in a bit of effort to get over the climb. The road straightens and there he is, at the front of a group of three. I get into the drops and TT my legs off to get back on. Past a bunch of bemused looking students in high-viz vests.
My TT effort pays off - back on. I take a turn at the front, giving Steve a nod as I come through. The road is "buzzy" and my power starts to drop. A rise in the road and we split into two. I'm caught in the back group, with a guy on a Giant Propel. Working again but we're not catching them. We start working a bit better together and Steve and the other guy start to slow.
The next climb sees the other guy drop off. Now it's just me, Steve and Mr Giant Propel. This seems like another big climb. We catch a group on the road. There is the guy on the Merida again, he joins us and the pace increases. Giant Propel guy can't hold it and somewhere soon after we lose Steve as well.
We're now setting a good pace but its flawed. I'm getting the first signs of some bad leg cramps. Hamstrings and calves keep twitching. Every now and then, and bang, a spasm. Pain. I keep spinning and increase my water intake. A quick chat with the guy I'm with - also Steve, Merida Steve - and he is suffering the same, I offer him a gel and he gladly receives it. We're both suffering but we're still setting a cracking pace. Just. Don't. Cramp.
"HOW MANY MORE CLIMBS?!?" I scream as the next climb presents itself and my legs give me more warning of what is to come. Merida Steve informs me that there are just two. I get out of the saddle, it's the only way to stave off those twinges. We're over it and only have one more to go.
My out of the saddle effort took me away from Merida Steve. My thoughts started to turn to the finish. Would my wife and kids be there waiting for me? I started the last climb hard, then as my leg started to spasm again, I tried to get out of the saddle. BOOM. My right leg seized up. I almost threw myself over the bike as I unclipped in pain. I had to stop. Merida Steve passed me as I tried to stretch it out. One failed attempt to get back on and I was starting to worry that Clogs and Steve would catch me and all that work would be for nothing. Back on. Easy now, just need to get over this hill and the descent into Ullapool begins.
I get there, the cramp eases off and I turn the bend at the top and see the road going down, then back up again! ONE MORE FECKING CLIMB! It's the longer but less punishing climb up to Morefield. I'm not taking my chances spinning up this one. I remember it now - it's definitely the last one. Up I grind. Merida Steve is in the distance but I'm not going to catch him.
I got a bit emotional at the thought of seeing Mrs Cranky and Cranky Jnr(x2) at the finish. It wasn't going to end as Cranky Jnr had predicted with Uncle Clogs beating me. That meant nothing in reality but everything to me at that moment in time. I hit the descent into Ullapool with all I had left. I didn't need to, but I wanted this to be over (and I still had a picture in my mind that Steve and Clogs would come flying past).
To the finish line, and the family weren't there yet - ah well! Merida Steve was though. He'd finished with a great time. 10 minutes faster than my time of 5 hours 18 minutes, which made him 5th. I was the 11th rider home and finished 12th. I tucked into my chilli, Steve and Clogs weren't far behind at all.
The Bealach Mor 2 weeks ago was probably the toughest sportive I'd done, I would say this pipped it. A truely brutal, unforgiving route through some of Scotlands most amazing scenery. This is one that you can look back and feel good about doing - but you don't feel good when you are actually doing it. I've ticked it off, I feel I did it justice. I'm not sure I'll do it again!!!
I had my legs massaged, then set off to start the holiday with some well-deserved beers and a dip in the hot tub. Cheers!