The alarm goes off at 6:25 am, but this time it isn’t for the dreaded 7am Spinning Class… In terms of physical punishment though, what I’ve got ahead is far more tough than that. Getting up this time was easy though, as I was excited by the prospect of a two day, 155 mile ride from Bristol to London.

I made my way down, somewhat clumsily, in the dark with both day pack and back pack, to Bristol Cathedral where I was greeted by a multitude of fluorescent jackets and the bright lights of a BBC TV crew.

After registration and a prep talk we were told to form groups and wander over to the start line. Not knowing anyone else taking part, I joined the queue and found myself in the first group, then after responding ‘yes’ to the question of ‘did I know the way out of Bristol?’ I found myself being goaded into leading the first group. Quite a privilege, leading 50 cyclists out of Bristol on an (estimated) 155 mile ride to London.

So, off we went smiling (rather awkwardly) at the TV crew as they filmed us leave. Cycling past my flat I’d left an hour previous with daylight starting to break I found myself setting a fairly fast pace up the steady incline on the Bristol Bath cycle path. Checking behind every so often I was surprised to see all six of my group right on me. At this point I began to wonder what I’d let myself in for, as these people were clearly very fit. I knew for sure I wouldn’t be able to maintain that pace, but at the same time was pleased that I didn’t have a group that was happy to dawdle along at snails pace.

After a quick stop to discard excess clothing we were on our way again, and before long had caught and passed the Sustrans riders who were marking key directions with chalk. A snapped chain and two punctures (one of them mine) delayed us but arriving at the first rest stop we discovered we were still way ahead of the second group.

Not that any of this was important, as it wasn’t a race, but one clear advantage was keeping just ahead of the rain that look rather ominous every time we glanced over our shoulders.

The event, dubbed the Bristol Blue Wave was organised by Bristol Diocese who had put on a couple of support vehicles to carry our luggage, planed the route in conjunction with Sustrans and arranged refreshment and overnight stops.

The Bristol Blue Wave was actually just a feeder event to The Wave, dubbed the UKs biggest ever climate change march, with people coming from all over the country to take part. See www.stopclimatechaos.org/the-wave for details.

When I first spotted the event I was initially pretty keen just because of the cycling aspect. Thinking of the December weather though, I pretty much shelved the idea, until seing The Age of Stupid ‘made’ me do it.

During the first stint we introduced ourselves to each other and I was pleased to find I fitted nicely into this group. With one exception, all were about my age and keen cyclists. There was a lot of encouragement in the group and we all seemed pretty competitive too, wanting to make our group winners, despite the fact that it wasn’t a race (something we had to keep reminding ourselves of).

We were also joined by an older chap, Pete, who was the only person in his congregation to take up the challenge. In addition to being a good 20 years older than the rest of us, he wasn’t a regular cyclist. As a result we did have to slow down to his pace, and drop back to give him encouragement. Being the back can be very demoralising, I know from the Alps trip earlier in the year, so Ollie and I regularly took turns to drop back to ride with this chap. Trying to engage him in regular conversation, but it was never long before the incessant whinging started up again. In his own words he resented us for being young and enthusiastic and several times mentioned dropping off at one of the check points and joining a group of his pace. Something that would have suited us all, but unfortunately he didn’t and stuck with us.

At the second checkpoint / tea break, I had my second puncture of the day. Only spotting this as we got back on the bikes the others in the group set off while Ollie stayed back to help me change it. We then had a full on stint as we set off to catch up the others. Given that Ollie was on a road bike this was a big effort. Thankfully a bit of crafty slipstreaming enabled me to keep up… just.

Despite being over 80 miles / 130km, the first day actually easy. We ate up the hills without complaint and despite it being December I was plenty warm enough. Having mis understood the plan for the stops I failed to bring any lunch with me, which left me to survive on protein bars, bananas, chocolate, raisins (and a Tuna sandwich kindly donated by Matt (who deserves a special mention: riding a single gear bike and always being out in front were both testament to the guy’s fitness). Pleasantly, after eleven hours on the bike I was pleased that I had no pain in the arse (unlike previous long rides) and was therefore very thankful for the support van carrying all our stuff.

That said, the last 5 mile leg was actually the toughest part of the day. With the darkness and cold having closed it, it got tougher as my light fell off and smashed down a pitch black country lane. The cold soon worked its way into the fingers and toes. I then got the hunger shakes during last half hour and to top it all off, we had to contend with the constant whinging from the older Pete…

All that just served to make the tea and cake at the overnight stop all the more welcome. Despite being a pretty poor brew, it was the best cup of tea I’ve ever had, and the two bits of cake I had were also awesome. And fair play to Pete. Instead of joining a group more to his pace, he stuck with us and pushed on until the end of the day.

For the night we were put up in the hall of Newbury Baptist Church, but not before we were all taken off by different members of the congregation, welcomed into their homes and, in our case at least, fed a mighty feast. Lasagna, chilli con carne, salad, garlic bread and two deserts were more than welcome after all the calories burned during the day. I was genuinely touched by the generosity of these people who invited smelly dirty strangers into their homes and fed us so well. Disgracefully, I can’t even remember their names to thank them personally via this blog…

We slept on the church hall’s heated floor heated. All 50 of us spread around the room. It has to be said that it was not my best night’s sleep ever, especially given that Christian got up at 6am and switched all the lights on.

Itching to get moving we were delayed by about 45 mins before we were allowed to go which was frustrating (‘it’s not a race’!), but thankfully Pete had seen sense and joined another group so able to push on at our pace.

It happened to be the year’s first frost and there was a fair amount of ice making it a little treacherous, but on the upside it was a beautifully clear morning and we even were blessed with a beautiful sunrise as we progressed along the Kenneth and Avon canal. Its not often when living in the city with a 9-5 job that one gets to see the sunrise, which set me reminiscing of Australia where Espe and I would witness sunrise and sunset every single day. With white frosty fields along side the canal and mist rising off it this first leg of the day was stunning.

Arriving in Reading for the first stop off we were fed Bacon sarnies and then interviewed by kids at the local primary school about what we were doing. The second leg was had an odd looking d-tour marked on the map taking us well out of the way, but unlike most of the other groups we decided to follow it and were treated to yet more stunning (and very English) country side which was contrasted massively when we arrived in the suburbs of Maidenhead, which to be honest could have been one of many new towns in the country, so nondescript was the place…

After a welcome late lunch in pub in Eton Wick we pushed on through Windsor great park. Somewhere well worth visiting on a nice sunny day. It was here that we split into two groups as Ollie Cathy and Matt, pushed on at a high pace, while Paty (Spanish), Christian (German) and I (English… I only mention the nationalities as after my time in Madrid I really enjoy the company of Europeans) slowed down to us all suffereing from knee pain. At this point we had already covered over 140 miles and it was becoming quite clear that the people at Sustrans who had planned the route had underestimated the distance some what.

Despite the knee problems it was still good to be pushing on in great company. The last leg was along the Thames cycle path, would have been stunning, but it was dark by that time and raining.

Arriving for the overnight stop after 12 + hours on the road I was pretty much destroyed. I couldn’t walk properly as my knee was in a lot of pain (anyone sensible would have abandoned the ride, but as many of you know I can be pretty stuborn at times). Day two was less distance (75 miles / 120 km) than the previous day, yet it had taken us considerably longer, due to the slower pace and more built up areas interrupting the flow.

Paty, Christian and I hit an Italian restaurant in Richmond were we ate rather well and had a good chat. They are a couple and met here in England working for a wind turbine company. Both vegans they have strong ethical views on many things (not least climate change – which was after all the reason we were all here). I couldn’t help but admire them both. Not your typical ‘activists’, don’t inflict in on anyone, but when delved in can supply some pretty strong arguments. Hopefully be seeing more of these two…

The second night was much better as we were split into three separate rooms, with Matt banned from our room based on his snoring the previous night.

The final day’s ride which was a mere 12 miles, was great with some stunning views as we crossed Richmond Park, but my knee was in a lot of pain now. We were following Sustrans ‘ranger’ so no need to map read (although Christian had done a sterling job of that the previous two days anyway). Arriving at Lambeth Palace was pretty special, crossing the Thames in view of the Houses of Parliment we’d reached our destination over 170 miles (275km) later.

Having completed the ride, all that was left to do now was take place in The Wave. After all the climate change march was the whole reason we’d cycled here in the first place. It wasn’t long before we’d changed into suitably blue attire, and the ever enthusiastic Paty had painted our faces blue…

It was great to take part in something this big, especially as this was the first time I’d taken part in any type of demonstration or march. There was a great turn out, some reported 50,000 people and a great feeling within the masses. Unfortunately, after the two days riding I was too knackered to take it in, and can’t do it justice here.

The ride itself was fantastic. Being out on the bike is great alone, but take the challenge of such a long distance, the opportunity to see some English countryside and the thrill of getting to know some fantastic people made for a truly great three days. Would I do it again? Hell yes!

Oh, and of course, this post wouldn’t be complete without one of My Maps…

View Larger Map

Finally, I’d like to extend a huge thank you to all of you who sponsored me. I’d hoped to hit £100 with your help, but that has been smashed. Rather worryingly, I pledged to match whatever you guys raised for me. I’m rather regretting that now as at this moment in time I don’t have that money to spare… I think I’ll have to pay up in installments.