Well I can now proudly say that I have survived 150miles of the coast to coast cycle trail with all my limbs intact! 

The journey began in Whitehaven. It was already raining. After a few disagreements with traffic and not too cheerful residents (they shouted things too rude for this) we headed across a nice flat disused railway. The initial pace was fast, with frequent rests to keep the group together. The first hills were a challenge but once my legs realised what was going on, I found myself getting up them in good time. The initial hill was rewarded with a long downhill where my friend Dan clocked 37.7mph.

As the rain grew heavier we reached Whinlatter pass. A stupidly tall and steep hill, the first serious challenge of the journey. After a brief accident with my chain I concentrated, looked at the floor and kept turning my legs until i reached the top. The feeling of success was incredible. If it wasn’t so windy and cold, the view would be amazing too. We reached the top of a woodland section with 18 miles to go till our Bnb. It was already 2pm. If we were going to make it in time then we’d have to pick up the pace… which we couldn’t. Uh oh.

After a fantastic, insanely fast off road section through a forest, we arrived in Keswick for 4pm. Our bnb was expecting us but we still had 15 miles to go. Panic set in amongst the group and this last section of the day was a grim push to get there before we lost light. Arriving in Penrith I promptly got lost on my own. When we finally reached the Bnb the host pointed out several of us had the early stages of Hypothermia. Awesome.

Considering the awful end to the previous day, we set off dissapointingly late. This would have been fine if the Bnb host hadn’t just lent me a jacket because he “didn’t want people staying at his place and then dying on a mountain”. The radio was reporting 60 severe flood warnings, one death and “the worst flooding to hit the north east in years.” This is when it hit me. We were about to cycle into something that could put us all in geniune serious danger… oh well! We can still try our best!

Upon reaching the base of Hartside Pass (the big scary 1900ft one) disaster set in. The winds were already stronger than anything i’ve ever seen and roads around us were filling with water. It was actually like the world was falling apart around us. Eventually the decision was made to reluctantly call things off. Under the circumstances and abilities of the group, to try and scale the mountain would be like organised suicide. Everybody was heart broken. I’d been training for months so couldn’t accept what was happening. I’d found out 3 others had made it to the top so guess who decides to go it alone. Muggins.  The gusts were reaching 60mph and the rain felt like a sand blaster. The cold was unbearable and I couldn’t hold my bike in a straight line. Possibly the most stupid, dangerous decision in my life but worth every second of it!

There were 4 of us left from the original 12. The others were collected 2 hours later in emergency blankets from a farm somewhere near Renwick. We had to decide what to do but we knew being on the top ofa mountain when the cafe shut was a bad idea so all we could do was push on. Much as Hartside was built up to be the biggy, we were still in the Pennines and it had plently more peaks saved up for us. Garrigll was particularly delghtful as the entirity was spent inside the cloud layer so we could actually tell where the top was. This place was so barren and disastrously windy, it was like being on mars. Shortly after this we had to stop, simply for our own safety. A rescue mission was in progress and 2 scout leaders came to collect us in a landrover from a pub in Nenthead where we were escorted to the Bnb. On the way we drove past houses underwater and trees thrown across the road. We’d just done the hardest part fo the C2C in the worst weather ON RECORD.

As we had to be rescued, we were taken back to Nenthead to resume the journey. This meant we started the day with 3 more peaks to cover and a total mileage of 60 mile or so. By now I’d seriously damaged each of my knees so a feeling of apprehension was shared by all. I just grit my teeth and screamed a lot. Somehow we covered this final peaks (including the higest) in just an hour. The knowledge that we had a support vehicle made us unstoppable, having prearranged rest points to stock up on food and painkillers. At one point I was fed painkillers out the landrover window while moving. Ibruprofen, Paracetemol and sheer stubborness were the only things keeping me going! Theres much less to say about the second half of the day as things got awkwardly flat. We averaged 12-15mph as we rocketed in a straight line towards the coast. By now the pain was unbearable but there was no way of stopping me after what we’d been through. Newcastle was possibly the hardest pasrt of the journey as the end was in sight, but Newcastle was 12 miles long! Debris was everywhere from the previous days floods that had luckily dropped to let us pass (we did have to bike through a few 2ft lakes) Before even realising where we were, the support guys were stood on a hill taking photos and that was it! We reached a signpost announcing we’d done it so I threw my bike in the sea!

19 Peaks later, 149 miles, 60mph gusts and over 48 hours of constant torrential rain. 8 people less and two annihilated knees… wow

A massive thanks to all who sponsored me and an extra special thanks to all of those who helped me get to the end. The other jackrabbitt riders, the fantastic three and especially the support team. Without them i’d probably still be on a mountain somewhere.