Whoosh 24 Day 3

“I’m worried about these hills,” I said to Simon, a fellow participant in Whoosh 2024 during a coffee stop in Machynlleth.

“What are you worried about?” he asked. “Are you worried you won’t get up them quite as fast as you might like? Because I’m sure you will get up them.”

It was one of many reminders during another tough day’s cycling of the value of community. I kept Simon’s words in mind subsequently as I laboured over the tough mountain roads between Machynlleth and Dolgellau – even when I was reduced at times, humiliatingly, to pushing my bike. At other points in the day, I took inspiration from following others, trying to catch up. Towards the day’s end, I led a group of weary riders over the undulating road between the seaside town of Barmouth and our destination in Harlech.

The links to Whoosh’s charity fund-raising purposes are obvious. The whole premise of charities is that people working together are more effective at tackling challenges than those acting solely on personal initiative.

The humiliation of having to push was perhaps appropriate pay-back for my initial cockiness. During the day’s first climb, out of Aberystwyth, I overtook the other riders and continued on twisting, climbing roads, riding confidently.

Then, once we were on the flat by the sea and my tall frame was facing a strong headwind, others started to overtake me. It was a salutary lesson. It helped me to speed up that I had a target to aim at and role models of similar riders who were coping with the conditions better than I. I pressed on, straining at the effort.

By the time we reached Machynlleth, however, I was feeling jaded and eager for a reviving coffee. I felt a little ashamed not to feel up to heading straight on to the day’s main climb with others who dismissed the idea of stopping. I remembered, however, the words of Aileen, a regular Whoosher: “Listen to your body.” When she gave it, I batted the advice off with a joke – “Why would I listen to something that’s been letting me down for five decades?” But on this occasion, I reflected how community members sometimes help us even when not present and realised I’d better have the coffee.

The big climb was coming, nevertheless, and, feeling nervous about it, I opted to head out before some others were ready to go. The route snaked gradually upwards, growing ever wilder and steeper. I kept pushing at the pedals as it left behind the villages and wound up among the trees. Above me, I could see the gaping mouth of an old slate quarry. The entrances to other abandoned workings opened off the rough road I was scaling. It was an uncomfortable reminder that, like many British communities, this one has often been prized mainly for what can be extracted from it.

The sun by now was beating down and, as I neared the 1,339-ft summit of the pass, I admitted defeat and pushed for a short section. I remounted and kept going until I feared my heart rate might trigger a heart attack. I pushed on three sections of the ascent. I felt a little deflated despite the extraordinary beauty of the view from the summit. I felt similarly downbeat throughout the subsequent descent – although grateful for my powerful hydraulic disc brakes.

Community was to provide me with another fillip, nevertheless. Riding along the rough old railway track from Dolgellau to Barmouth, I caught sight of a group of my fellow riders ahead and joined them. As we headed onto the roads between Barmouth and Harlech, I found myself leading the group, riding more confidently again. We rode faster because we were together.

That did not prevent a final challenge. Alone again in Harlech, after other riders had headed to their various accommodation for the night, I followed our set route all the way down to sea level, assuming it must be leading to the guest house where I was staying. The final, 25 per cent descent past Harlech Castle felt so perilous I again got off and pushed. Near the bottom, I double-checked my guest house’s location. I had ridden straight past it around a mile before, high above me on the hillside.

It was, of course, a minor setback in the scheme of things. And the virtues of community that kept me going help people engaged in far more critical endeavours. No doubt the Gaza Sunbirds, the paracycling team we’re supporting, find value in being part of a team, even in these dark days in their territory. CHIPS peacemakers will be helped by all kinds of community influences – wise words shared, the encouragement of seeing a peer doing something seemingly difficult, the chance to contribute in leadership.

I can only hope those principles are able to sustain me through another hard day of riding on Monday.