Audax: The Giant Circle 1000k DiY

I rode a 300k loop of the M25 in January. That was my RRtY ¹ ride for the month. I put a few posts up on Mastodon on the way round, and a map overlay of the route on completion. Someone replied saying they were reminded of The Giant Circle. The route appealed to me straight away. The biggest circle you can ride in the UK. A big beautiful circle. What’s not to love about that? Pretty much there and then I resolved to ride it.

I extended the route to start and finish from home via the Greenwich Meridian. This turned the ride into a giant balloon rather than a circle but hey, needs must. The 1000k DIY ² audax ³ was planned. I shared the plan with my friend Dave when we met after a meeting I had in Fulham. He was enthused and asked to come along. Of course you can. It’s gonna’ be great I say. He say’s he’s not done many miles this year. Don’t worry I tell him. You’re strong, you’ve the mindset, you’ll be fine.

Day 1

We met at Greenwich Park at just past 8.30 am. I started out at 6.00 from home. The plan was to ride 334km each day, starting at 6.00 am. Finish around 1.00 am. Find a bivvy spot at the end of day one and two. All going to plan we’d be home on the third night.

The first day went pretty well. The weather was not too bad. We were riding into a moderate south westerly wind. There was a heavy shower near Hindhead but it generally stayed dry. Not especially hot to start. Warmed up late afternoon with high temperatures forecast for the following two days. Chatting away helped the miles pass quickly. Heading out through the Surrey Hills was a delight. Lovely countryside, winding lanes and quaint villages. Quintessentially English. The route led us to a short stretch of a very badly surfaced path adjacent to the noisy A3 to the climb up towards the Devils Punch Bowl. Maybe it’s only me but it just looked like a massive sunken garden full of trees to my eyes.

We cycled into Winchester at around 7.30 pm. Just under 190k in 11hrs. Bit behind schedule. In retrospect the long climb out of Winchester was an early sign of struggles that lay ahead. Dave was faster than me going downhill and quick enough on the straights. Climbing was another thing though. His gearing was not suited to it and by his own admission neither was the 10kg he’d put on from eating cakes and bread gifted to him on a regular basis over the last few months. We pushed on. An unscheduled stop at a pub at 216k to top up water bottles. That turned into a quick freshen up in the facilities followed by a pint. The incremental creep into the schedule had begun. We continued to Salisbury. Stopped here to eat. Mr Shawarmis falafals are great! We set of again in good spirits. Another 100k / 5hrs would bring us to the planned end for the day. The wind picked up a bit along the lanes towards Bristol. The sun was setting. As true as night follows day we were soon riding in the dark.

For a long ride like this I aim for a steady 20 kmph. With a DiY audax you’re responsible for everything. This includes setting and keeping to a schedule that will get you to the arrivee (the end) within the qualifying time.

The distance each day was divided into shorter sections. This works for well for me psychologically. On the first day there were four. On the second and third days, into three sections. As it was an audax, notional controls are required approximately every 50 - 80 km. All you have to do is pass by the location so it shows up on the GPS track you submit for validation. There is no need to stop. I planned the controls where there was a food outlet, ideally close to end of each section. That was not always possible so where necessary I added them anywhere else a suitable distance from the last.

The five hour buffer reassured me that we were doing okay despite some unplanned and prolonged breaks. At 286k Dave ran out of water. I shared mine and noticed that he looked shattered. Dave confirmed as much. I suggested that we stop now, get some rest and set out early in the morning to make up time and distance. The hilly part of this section into and through Bristol was still to come. We agreed to ride onto the next village and bivvy down on the green or in a graveyard whichever we happened on first. I’m pleased to say it was Faulkland village green. It was just after 11 pm. We wasted no time, quickly finding suitable cover for the night under our respective trees.

Day 2

I was awake just gone 4.00 am. We packed up and was back on the road by 5.00 am. Took longer than needed but so be it. It was an hour earlier than the scheduled start. Given we’d stopped two hours early and 49k before planned we were around 3 hours behind. No panic. We still had a two hour buffer. The ride into Bristol suggested to us both that we’d made the right decision to stop for a break. Some of the lanes on the way were very potholed and steep, up and down. Riding those in the dark, tired and worn out would have been risky. We had another unscheduled stop for a sit down breakfast in the city. A pleasant ride out had us following the path of Hazel Brook through woods and out into the grounds of Blaise Castle. We’d have missed that in the dark, another validation of the decision to stop early. We got to banks of the Severn and the end of the planned first days ride at around 8.30 am. We were now three and half hours behind. Hmm… Best get cracking.

After a slow ride over the bridge guess what? A scheduled stop at a Spar shop. Had another good feed here. Sandwiches, yogurt drink, crisps, energy drink, chocolate. It all burns. We set off again at 9.30 am just 20k into the days ride, which if we stuck to plan would end 360k away, around 674k from my leaving home. Without any stops it would be 3.30 am before we got there. I think it was from around this time I started to do the mental arithmetic, which I’m not especially good at, in a futile effort to somehow create time. The weather warmed up, the hills got longer and steeper, the top of each affording me a short break while waiting for Dave. He started to urge me to ride ahead. I declined. I enjoyed his company and was not of the mind that I needed to in order to finish within the qualifying time (9.00 am Sunday morning). Steady progress was made for the next few hours until having to stop to fix a puncture. Dave suggested again that I go on without him. I was not ready to do that. Certainly not when he’s at the side of the road with a flat tyre. Dave was more than capable of looking after himself but it did not seem comradely to leave him to it. Working together we got the tube patched and began to make headway again. To be fair I just found the puncture, Dave did the rest while I sat around with my shoes and socks off eating sandwiches.

At just gone 2.15 pm we reached the Nags Head a little outside Peterchurch. The short foray through Wales was over. 70k done since 8.30 am. Not great. Still, we stop here at my suggestion for a drink and freshen up. The Shropshire Hills National Landscape lies ahead. My fuzzy maths surprised us both when I proclaimed we still had plenty of time in hand. I shared my intention to ride through till 3.00 or 4.00 am to make up the distance. Off we go again, with steely determination if not much hope. I soon realised my calculations were way out. We were actually now 4h 30m behind schedule. When I told Dave he exclaimed, ‘well that’s not right!’ I misunderstood and asserted my sums were now right. What he really meant was that it was not right we were so far behind and it was looking more and more unlikely I’d finish within the 75h ⁴ limit. Dave said he’d get the ride done but on his own terms, that the pace required was ‘above his pay grade’, and that he did not want to burden me. I did not need to respond. A big hill approached. Dave called out to crack on and that he’d catch up. I remember thinking that was his Captain Oats moment. I set about the climb. Dave receded into the distance behind. We were now on our own rides.

Dave and I first met a good few years ago. Whilst we do not meet on a regular basis each time we do it’s a joy. Our first excursion was on a ride from Dundee to Edinburgh. I picked Dave up at a meeting point just off the north side of the M25 and drove up to Dundee where I had a work assignment. We’d never met in person before yet instantly got on. We talked during the entire drive. Did not even have the radio on. We arrived in the early hours some time before I could check in at the booked accommodation. Parked up on the outskirts to get some shuteye. I laid my bivvy out in a field and Dave snoozed in the car. No fuss no bother. The ride went well. Into a powerful headwind the whole way. No complaining or miseries. Other rides include the Brian Chapman Memorial 600k, the Dunwich Dynamo, a few 200s and so on. With the history between us I felt confident about embarking on this ride with Dave, and that he’d be totally okay continuing without me.

Over the next 50k my mind was occupied with thoughts about how Dave might go about the rest of the ride, about me making up the time, and the distance I wanted to cover before my next bivvy stop. Got to the section end, a garage at 457k. I quickly scoffed a massive cheese and onion bap, glugged down drinks before scooting off on my way. Very quickly noticed I’d set off in such haste I’d left my phone and wallet on the wall I’d been sitting on eating and drinking at the garage. A quick about turn and I was back in time to see a couple of lads taking interest in the phone. I think they were seeking to be helpful. My wallet was nowhere to be seen. The lads looked worried when I asked about this. Double checked my pockets and there it was. All good. The lads went on their way as did I. I then missed the first turn and did not notice until after a bit of fast downhill. Another about turn and a quick talking to myself about calming down. After a few km’s of horrible rough surface I found my pace and and got on with it. I don’t recall stopping again until I got to a pub near Stoke on Trent which marked the end of the second section of the day. 566k done. It was near closing time. It might have been my imagination but when I walked in to get a drink and packet of crisps I got a few odd looks. I think by now I may well have taken on the wild eyed look and sweaty countenance that often comes to me with long distance rides. No worries. I ignored the stares, drank up, loaded the final section of the day on the GPS and got going.

Almost immediately the climbing started. 743m over 105k. All being well I would get it done between 2.30 am and 3.30 am. Time was slowly being clawed back. If it had been the day time the roads now would have been fairly busy. However, as it was quite late at night I benefited from good road surfaces and next to no traffic. The wind was behind me. The hills were though incessant. One in particular seemed to go on forever. It was in fact just 30 minutes over 5k. If it means anything to you, 228m elevation, 13% max grade / 6% average grade. It was good to finally get to the top. Light from the urban area was far behind. I rode on for another twenty minutes before getting to the southerly tip of the Peak District National Park. Not another soul around. Very dark and very quiet. The sleepies came on all of a sudden. The lanes twisty and narrow. I was having a job staying awake and seeing far enough ahead to feel safe riding at a reasonable speed. I decided I’d stop at the next suitable spot and get some shut eye. The opportunity to do so soon appeared. 597k done. It was 1.30 am. 75k short of my intention. Discretion is the better part of valour, or something like that anyway…

Day 3

Woke up at 3.20 am. That’ll do. It felt like I slept. Remembered dreaming so I must have. Wasted little time in packing up. I had a sandwich and some chocolate in my bar bag. Can’t knock a bit of breakfast first thing. Cycling again by 4.00 am. Felt pleased I stopped. The scenery was great and hills continued. It would have been a shame to miss the views. An even bigger shame to have missed sharp bends at the bottom of a few hills and ending up in a ditch. It would not have been the first time. After only 12k - 13k I was out of the National Park. Onwards through some some small towns and villages to the north of Derby. Feeling pretty good. I was on a mission. A brief stop at a corner shop in Alfreton to top up with milk, more chocolate and an energy drink and I was all set to get this section done. I enjoy seeing the world wake up. It was a Saturday morning. The corner shop was opening up when I called in. Newspapers were being stacked and security shutters raised. Milk bottles on people’s doorsteps. Occupants of houses peeking through curtains to check the weather and emerging in their night clothes to fetch the milk in. Roads are still quiet. Urban foxes having a last forage before hunkering down in their holes until dusk. In my mind so long as I finished this section in time to commence the next by around 9.30 am I’d finish the ride within the 75 hrs. The climbs gradually petered out with the last one being about 20k from Newark. About 15 minutes before reaching there the left side brake/shift lever became loose. Decided I would not put any pressure on it, keep going and tighten it up at the section end. Although it seemed pretty apparent that’s all it needed, niggling thoughts floated about in my head that it may be worse accompanied by playing out different scenarios as to how I’d get it sorted and what impact that would have on my progress. As is often the case I need not have worried. I got to the control at 8.30 am. Tightened up the lever and all was good.

Things were looking good. I was now only 2.5h behind the planned schedule. There was 333k to go. You get just over 21 hrs for a 300k audax. I had 25 hrs before the cut off at 9 am Sunday. I was going to get this done. Once again the total distance was split into three sections. The first was 108k. Destination Wisbech, with a shop stop planned in at around 50k at the Nisa Local in Billingborough. It was going to be a hot day. By 9.30 am it was already feeling pretty muggy. Lanes edged on either side by flat arable fields. Hedgerows and trees noticeably fewer hence shade from the sun was also diminishing. Fairly quickly I finished off the content of my water bottle. As good fortune would have it I passed by a Co-Operative store on the outskirts of Ancaster. The air conditioned chill inside the shop was lovely. Topped up the bottle with a litre of refridgerated Lucozade Sport Ice Kick Lemon, “…a refreshing sports drink that hydrates and replenishes with a zesty lemon flavour and an energising kick”. I set off again feeling all was in hand. To be honest it soon felt like a bit of a slog. The sun was beating down. My toes were feeling sensitive. Flat, straight roads are not my favourite. They’re a challenge to me. Feels like slow progress. I get my head down, try not to look far ahead, and grind out the distance. I knew I had a good few of these roads coming given I was riding through parts of Lincolnshire, Norfolk and Cambridgeshire. I got a taste of things to come on an 8k stretch approaching Billingborough. The picture below could have been taken at the time I was on the road.

Keep turning the pedals. Sure enough I rolled into Billingborough. 728k done. 11.23 am. I was boiling! Had a drink, topped up the water bottle and sat down for a bit with my shoes and socks off, eating an ice lolly. Got a few Signal messages checking on my progress.

“You can’t have that much left to do . . .”

“Home straight . . . . Are you on the ally or steel 🤔 🚴‍♂️🚴‍♂️🚴‍♂️🚴‍♂️ Keep those pedals turning. . . . 🥳🥳🥳”

Having less than 300k to do was encouraging. Having another 278k to go was a bit daunting given the heat. Felt like a bit more than the home straight to me. Best not dwell on it. Shoes and socks back on. Sun cream applied. Next stop Wisbech. 50k.

Dull! Dull! Dull! It’s all down to perception, your experience may differ. For me the following 80km was the most monotonous and boring of the ride. Aside from the brief excursions through Spalding, Wisbech, and Ely there is little of interest to look at. Flat landscape. Long roads stretching off into the horizon. You get to a bend with the hope that a change of scenary may be just around the corner but no, just another long straight road lies ahead boarded by drab fields on either side. There was not even any wind from one way or another for distraction. Just the sun beating down with no discernible shade. I checked the GPS a couple of times to see what the air temperature was, 28° and then a bit later 30° degrees. The areas of Lincolnshire, Cambridgeshire and Norfolk I rode through rest in memory as places I wish to avoid on a bike. It was the not the first time I’ve ridden these roads or close to them. Never especially enjoyed it. Other than in 2017 when I rode into a ferocious headwind for around 80k on the return leg of LEL (London - Edinburgh - London) this occasion was my least favourite. It felt good getting into Haymarket and out the other side. Although this section of the ride did not end until Thaxted in Essex the change in terrain was welcomed. Hills, hedgerows and bends in the road slowly but surely returned.

I reached Thaxted, 884k into the ride, at around 8.20 pm on Saturday. 62h 20m after leaving home on Thursday morning. It surprised me how busy and bustling the place was. Lots of people were sitting outside pubs and eateries, milling around in the high street and generally appearing to be enjoying the long days and warm weather. I opted for another garage stop. My mental and physical state were not aligned with social interaction. I necked some coffee, an energy drink, unhealthy snacks and a couple of Ibuprofen. The start of the final section back home had been reached. 126k to go. 12h 30m to do it in. Not wishing to tempt fate but things were looking good. I’d made the time back and barring mechanicals or mishaps would likely reach my destination with time in hand. I set off again with strong intention.

My energy levels were restored. I started to make excellent progress. Speeding down hills and powering up the other side. London was calling. I became more familiar with name places on road signs. It felt like I had the wind behind me. Dusk soon turned to night. I enjoy riding in the dark. Especially after a day riding beneath a hot sun. I was loving the road towards then through Chipping Ongar. Before long I passed over the M25. I was enthused, endorphins were flowing, coffee and energy drink surging through my veins, the analgesic comfort of Ibuprofen countering the physical toll of the ride. I felt like a machine! Essex smudged into Greater London at Havering. The progression from country lanes to city streets had been gradual but there was no mistaking they were now far behind me. Street lights, cars, lorries and buses, emergency sirens, loud shouts and laughter of people out on a Saturday, came from all around. I needed to have my wits about me and rose to the occasion. I rode with a single minded confidence on the busy streets towards Woolwich. There was a short section along the convoluted and glass strewn cycleway in Beckton which had my GPS chirping like a budgie through all the turns. Reaching the Woolwich foot tunnel without incident felt like a relief and an achievement in equal measure. The lift was of out of order on the north side. No worries, I lugged my bike down the spiralling 100 or so steps to the cool, damp and echoing passage beneath the Thames.

Fortunately the lift at the other end was working. Not long now and the circle would be complete. I was mistaken in thinking the route would take me directly to Greenwich from here. Instead it followed the slow and meandering way along the Thames Path, round the Greenwich Peninsula, through some dodgy, isolated back alleys until finally reaching the south side of Greenwich Park. It was just past 1.00 am on Sunday. The park was of course closed. I knew that would be the case so followed my planned route up the west side of the park which was as close to the Meridian Line as I was going to get at this time of night. The Giant Circle was done. All I needed to do now was get back home and finish the ride. Only another 50k with plenty of time in hand.

The route home is one I have done many times. Not so many times with 960k in my legs but still, I knew what lay ahead. I was feeling really hungry. Not tempted by more cold garage food. I wanted something hot. Riding through Welling my wishes were granted. An all night pizza shop. There were two young couples in the shop waiting for their food. The glances I got from them confirmed to me I looked like a madman on a bike that was best ignored. I wolfed down my pizza followed by a soft drink with no decorum. I’d have given myself a wide berth too.

I’d added in the planning a few km to the journey home to make the distance up to 1000k. I’d not done so with much attention to detail but recalled it did involve an excursion through Gravesend and onto Medway. Oh my! The route followed a way that I would never normally go. It seemed ridiculous to ride it after all this way and in the early hours of the morning. I’d entered the ride as a mandatory route ⁵ and so it was I dutifully followed this absurd way home quietly amused by the madness of it all.

Got back home 70h 38m after starting, just under 5hr 30m in hand. It was about 4.30 am. It had been around 25hrs since I left the bivvy spot in the Peak District 616k ago. I’d done it!

Epilogue

I received an upbeat message from Dave at 11.23 am on Sunday. He was texting from Wisbech. Still going and conveying the spirit that would get him to the end. The next message came in at 2.27 am Monday. Dave had made it to Greenwich. He’d had a bit of a mishap on the Thames path and went over the bars. A temporary repair got him to the end but at the time of texting was waiting near the park for a pick up to fetch him back home to Pimlico.

Like Dave I was so pleased to have completed the Giant Circle. It was “totally bonkers”, as a work colleague put it when I showed him the route a week or so before setting out. This was the longest DIY audax I’ve done to date. It was also the months ride to keep the unbroken chain going for the RRtY award (the 21st consecutive ride of such).

Over the following week I came down with a chesty cough and what I describe as general malaise for a few days. Could have been a coincidence but equally could have been a consequence of the sustained effort it took to get round. Back on my bike after a weeks break. Slowly getting back into the routine of more regular rides. Completed a 200k DIY for July’s RRtY at the weekend. It’s all good.