A long distance calling

It’s the fifth and final day of London-Edinburgh-London 2009, and I’m riding on tight, tree-lined Lincolnshire lanes. Conditions are, finally, ideal. The first 100 hours have included prolonged, headwind storms in the north country. I’m feeling pretty jaded. Sleep time has been minimal and nodding-off in the warm afternoon is a risk, or would be if the weather wasn’t offering a dramatic remedy.

Every hour or so, a freezing shower, hard rain or hail, blows in across the level landscape. There’s no need to change or add clothes. Even during a chill soaking you can see the fine summer day close behind. The rains aren’t just a bracing wake-up. The cyclic sequence – observation, anticipation, precipitation, steaming evaporation – offers a whole extra level of entertainment.

After days of concentrating only on immediate problems, with no need to ponder the scale of the whole, mighty endeavour, covering the remaining 100 kilometres to enjoy a successful finish, finally begins to feel possible. I feel optimistic, not complacent.

Riding into the night

Showers relent as we push on to delightful, well-surfaced Cambridgeshire B-roads. Rides like this are something like debauched parties. At the start, almost everyone is well groomed and smartly turned out, eyes bright with excitement. As things progress, you meet folk looking the worse for wear and must ask yourself: ‘Do I look as rough as them?’ Some of us in the groups that form, dissolve and reform under blue skies and towering clouds come into this category, but all give an impression of good spirits. Morale is almost everything.

As part of my preparation for this trip, I’d spent a long day, a month before, following the route from the Humber back to London. Although I couldn’t remember it exactly, I recalled the trickiest details. At a similar stage in 2005, I’d spent a frustrating quarter of an hour trying to find the right road out of St Neots. This time I was able to pilot an Anglo-German grupetto through the old market town with calm confidence.

Sleep deprivation renders you receptive as a new-born. Deep fatigue – tiredness beyond being merely tired – allows a strange detachment. Turning the pedals seems effortless. Moving is easier than being still. Smooth tarmac, pleasant company – old friends, new friends, international guests – sharing a simple mission, bonded by collective experience and mutual respect.

1400km non-stop... at 12km/h

The non-competitive, reliability ride format of LEL is derived from the classic Paris-Brest-Paris. To join the list of successful finishers, you need only maintain a minimum average speed and finish within the time limit. There’s also a maximum speed – which defends the organisers against any charge that they’re holding a race on public roads – but for almost all participants that’s academic. In this branch of cycle-sport, the cliché that second place is ‘first loser’ doesn’t apply. Everyone wins.

LEL is 200km longer than PBP and has a more generous time limit. To pass the test, you need to average a mere 12 kilometres per hour. If you can manage an average road speed in the high teens, you’ll have a little spare time for eating and sleeping. There are controls around every 50 miles, usually based in village halls or schools, where you must get your card stamped, as proof you passed through. Also at the controls are cheerful volunteers who minister to your needs, feed you, even check your bike if you ask. Most of the controls have showers and basic sleeping facilities: a bed, a blanket and, crucially, an alarm call.

You can ride fast – road speed in the mid-twenties km/h – and sleep well each night. If you want to record a fast time, you can ride fast and sleep a minimum. Those who move more slowly must rise early and press on late into the night. What you can’t do is ride slowly and sleep long. You need to be in good health and have a minimum level of conditioning but the test can be as much of efficiency and determination as fitness.

The slower speed demand of LEL doesn’t mean it’s easier than PBP. The higher volume of riders on the French ride, direction arrows on every junction, and villages ‘en fête’ help to sweep you along on a wave enthusiasm. LEL is lonelier: you have to find your own way from a cue sheet and take much more responsibility for your own motivation. International riders expecting a 900-mile street party may be disappointed, but this year’s edition has the added glamour of an optional ‘prologue’ ride taking in the sights of central London early on the morning of the start from the north eastern suburb of Loughton. There’s also a new turning point slightly nearer the centre of Edinburgh, and the grandeur of a crossing of the Humber Bridge.

Pushing yourself further

If you’re tempted to try LEL this year (and there are still places available at time of writing), you need to start planning now. All you need do by way of training is get out and ride your bike. The knowledge that a big test is coming puts you out on the road when, without the deadline, you may be tempted to draw the curtains.

It’s good to ride at least one 600-kilometre audax in the run-up to the event, to investigate how you react to little or no sleep. If you’re lucky, some of your preparatory rides will take place in ‘bad’ weather. Anyone can do it when the sun is shining. Cold, rain, or howling headwinds are chances to test your reliability.

If LEL is already booked-up, or you’re not sure you’d enjoy that kind of challenge, or you don’t think there’s enough time to get yourself seasoned for such an epic, why not sign up to volunteer at a control? You’ll get to see the excitement, the drama, the comedy of the event from the inside and get a better idea of whether to aim for LEL 8 in July 2017?

The point of an abstract challenge like LEL is that, aside from being a lovely ride, its discipline takes your riding to a new level. Your entry represents a contract that can only be fulfilled by physical effort, mental fortitude and skill as a cycle-traveller, not just riding but managing your welfare throughout. In the words of Paul Fournel, author of Need for the Bike: ‘When the decision to speed up or slow down doesn’t belong to you any more, you become a different cyclist.’

This was first published in the February / March 2013 edition of CTC's Cycle magazine.