Edinburgh to London Record Breaking Tandem Ride - The Story

RRA Edinburgh to London Record – 8th August 2020

Doug Hart and Mark Bourgeois

Officiated and Supported by Bridget and Ian Boon

Don’t finish strongly

So it all started on a Sunday Ilkley CC club ride in 2017. The pace had been tough and folk were tiring. I needed to get home for lunch so made a big effort on the final climb up to Leathley. Doug was in front, and put up a bit of resistance as I drew alongside. Evidently he’d had a big week, as I pushed past. I had no idea at the time, but that move was significant. He’d logged it….

Three years later, prolific record breaker Doug was contemplating a sixth Road Records Association title. The London Edinburgh tandem record, set in 1988 was there for the taking. Trouble was that Jake Unsworth, double record breaking tandem partner of 2019, had quenched his record-breaking thirst and was unavailable for selection. Who had Jake’s geometry, and some evidence of going the distance? Well that ruled out most of the ICC TR gang where 40 miles of high tempo efforts didn’t quite translate to a 387 mile grind through 5000m of climbing. Then it occurred –  189cm Bourgeois on the Leathley climb.  He’ll do. 

So here I was in May 2020 highly flattered and slightly terrified to be asked by Doug to help him with the record. Why not? Well actually here’s why not: I’d never done a distance time trial. My furthest ever ride had been 135m Liège-Bastogne-Liège in 2014. Life at Hammerson was pretty intense as we grappled with retail carnage and contemplated a capital raise. Oh yes, and six weeks earlier I’d lay in Airedale hospital, oxygen mask clasped to face, battling Covid. Elizabeth was understandably horrified at the very suggestion. I told Doug I’d think about it….

This may just be possible

May and June were spent working the benefits of lockdown in Ilkley. Loads of mid week time with Elizabeth and the girls. Work was intense but manageable through the new found zoom efficiencies of WFH, and being in Ilkley rather than London,  I was able to ride out early  mornings to get some decent miles in, including the highly competitive Segment of The Week. I was feeling pretty good. Meanwhile, Doug, subject to overcoming an inflamed piriformis, was in seemingly imperious form, battling it out at the top of the SOTW league table and generally going faster, for longer, than anyone else.

 I pushed on with the training, including, a “promising” (Doug’s description) solo London to Ilkley, which at 220 miles and 19.8mph average was my furthest ever. But another 167 miles!?

The next test was to actually ride the tandem together. Lockdown guidelines had effectively ruled that out until late June. The first was to be just 20 miles. Hollins Hill and Burley bypass. Things didn’t start well. Just two miles from Doug’s house, onto Hollins Hill, the whole thing was very laboured.  My arms and bum were already hurting. The geometry and fixed nature of the stoker’s handlebars felt particularly strange. Confidence and mood dipped as I contemplated riding on this thing, for 387 miles.  Surely a ridiculous prospect. But as with all things in cycling, small adjustments can make a huge difference, and stopping a couple of times for seat and handlebar repositioning did the trick. Doug and I also discovered how to ride out of the saddle, a manoeuvre that would prove exceptionally useful in maintaining momentum and providing the comfort of a positional change (ie gave my arse a rest) during the ride. So by the end of the 20 miles session, things felt better and spirits lifted. C/O JD Tandems, I would also change crank length from 172.5 to 170 and so was back in a place where this thing might just be possible….

We’re on…

So a plan started to emerge albeit the immovables that were Hammerson half year results, pre-booked  family holidays and Doug’s return to College pointed at 8th to 15th August as being the seemingly narrow record attempt window.

Post Covid chest X-ray confirmed no lung damage so into July, the training stepped up a notch. I was aiming for over 300 hard miles each week, including a good stint on the Tandem. First decent ride out was a Darlington return and we managed 140 miles at c21.5mph.  

We pushed on the week after to 170 miles around Doncaster at a similar speed. It was an eventful ride involving a major mechanical (spokes on rear wheel collapsed under the Wattage) and an SOS call home. The tuna cheese melt and coffee that awaited Elizabeth as she delivered a spare wheel to Skellow, outside Doncaster, was all I could inadequately offer as compensation for the unplanned 100 mile round trip.  Thank you Elizabeth. On many levels. 

Next week, a really strong three days where on the Friday I rode solo 190 miles Lincoln return at c. 21mph  followed by a tandem return trip  to Windermere on Sunday at over 22mph, (the latter fuelled by a fantastic breakfast stop at The Lakeland Farm Visitor Centre, run by Doug’s brother in law) . 

By then end of July, I was ready. Doug always had been. We were on.

The wonders of MyWindSock pointed to decent weather window appearing on the weekend of 8th / 9th August. That would be ideal so we started making detailed plans. I hadn’t appreciated just how much uncertainty, particularly weather related, surrounds the pinning down of a date and the week leading up to the 8th was tense. 

The organisational logistics were incredibly detailed. I’m very grateful to Doug who took care of it all. The route planning was a huge job. Back in 1988 the ride was more or less straight down the A1. Not so now with the A1M.  Doug google mapped every bit of the 387 miles and several very kind volunteers associated with the RRA from along the way tested out, and recommended options.  Doncaster, Newcastle, a business park outside Peterborough and the ride into London were amongst those subject to vagaries that required clarification.

So route finalised, on 5th August, record attempt 2141 was registered with the RRA and Doug announced things on the ICC Facebook page. The weather still looked good and Saturday 8th August was record attempt day. No going back now. 

A well equipped van

So Friday 7th August finally arrived. It had been an intense week. I’d been been particularly busy at work and Doug has singlehandedly pulled together the complex logistics of the ride, whilst preparing for all that goes with a post-Covid return to College. That, combined with the uncertainly and tension around pinning down the date, and a last minute change of support team and official,  meant it was a huge relief to finally meet up and get on with this thing. 

Kit packed, Elizabeth and I drove to rendezvous at Doug’s house for midday. Nina had cooked some tasty carb filled scones which felt like ideal pre-fuel for the next days exploits. I loaded up on what in hindsight was an impolite quantity, probably depriving Theo and Ellie of their mid afternoon snacks.

As Elizabeth, Nina, Doug, Theo, Ellie and I chatted and ate scones in the sunshine, we were hugely relieved to see the cavalry arrive. Bridget and Ian Boon, legends of long distance tandem riding, who had agreed to help us just 48 hours earlier, approached up Beechwood Grove in their exceptionally well equipped Mercedes van. They had set off from Bristol that morning, on what for them would be a 710 mile round trip in under 48hrs. The motor had it all. Properly pimped for ride support: In van fridge, countless power points, buckets, sponges, water bowsers, musettes, and most importantly two rotating orange emergency vehicle lights and an RRA sign, that would signal to all approaching vehicles that they were about to pass a cycling record attempt! 

We set off on the 200 mile van ride to Edinburgh. Ian driving, Bridget up front, Doug and I sat side by side in the remarkably spacious back seat. Alongside us, the Orbit Velocity tandem was loaded, complete with power packs, lights, food holders and recently serviced aero wheels (we didn’t want another repeat of the full spoke breakdown three weeks earlier.)

It was great to talk to Ian and Bridget. They really had done it all on a tandem and knew exactly what we were in for. I did however feel like a real amateur alongside them and Doug, asking what in hindsight must have seemed like ridiculous questions. “What’s LEJOG?”. They surely wondered who the clown in the back was as they explained the workings of a “feed up” to me. 

En route the nerves really set in. This was a ridiculously long way. In a van. To attempt this on a bike seemed preposterous. I was also worried sick about letting Doug down. He’d set a schedule aimed at breaking the record by an hour. Breaking the record!  It would have been unfathomable for me to have even thought about this five months earlier and my sense of imposter syndrome was getting no better the further the miles to Edinburgh went on.

Having worried just about every eventuality over the four hour journey, I was relieved when we finally arrived in Edinburgh and checked into the Travel Lodge, conveniently located on Waterloo Place some 100m from the start point.

The evening was spent eating copious quantities of rice at the nearby Maki and Ramen on Leith Street, whilst swotting up on the route, feed points and stops with the Boons. Old school proper long distance drivers (they had run a van logistics business) Bridget had requested a marked up road map rather than relying on the pre-loaded GPS Garmin. So Doug obliged and proceeded to mark up the map, pretty well by memory. He really had put some thought into this route planning lark…..

Beginning to relax a little, that evening Doug and  I reflected with some pride on what we were about to attempt. Edinburgh to London was one of most prestigious of the RRA records, linking the two capitals in one ride. First set in 1894 in a time of 27 hrs and 33 minutes by E Oxborrow and H H Sansom, the record was currently held by J W M Murdoch and G Berwick, who in 1988 rode in 18hrs 42mins. To be listed in the RRA handbook of record holders, alongside some of the most accomplished riders in history, would be a tremendous honour. Doug’s understated confidence was hugely reassuring and we settled down to attempt sleep at 9.30, alarms set for 3am.

Here we go

No sleep later, we rose just ahead of the alarm. It was dark, silent, but thankfully dry outside. This was it. The day had finally arrived.

No hotel breakfast at this hour, so I’d prepared Bircher meusli prior to bed. Two freezer bags full lay by the window which frankly by now looked like sick. Doug was polite but appeared unconvinced  as I passed him possibly the most unappetising breakfast he’d ever seen. Eating straight out of a plastic bag was not pretty, we looked like a couple of hungry, thirsty horses slurping from weird looking nose bags. All that mattered now though was putting in fuel, so notwithstanding the presentation, the Waitrose Bircher mix/apple juice/yoghurt combo did the trick.

The anticipation and excitement was now really kicking in. Putting on the kit felt so good. The forecast was hot later but currently a cool 12 degrees outside. Doug was well organised in club gear -  ICC skin suit, no base layer and an ICC gilet for the pre dawn chill. Whilst ideally I should have matched him, I didn’t own a skin suit  and wanted something bright and visible, with  an arm covering for UV protection and reasonable aero credentials, so wore an orange Assos Mille GT summer jersey with a black ICC jersey over to start the ride (and for the photo!). Foot pain had been an issue for both of us on hot training rides, so I’d bought along the widest most comfortable (quite old)  Specialised shoes, which happened to match the top. Doug had some new white lace up Giros which looked particularly smart, picking out the white aero helmets we would both wear. To complete the aero max approach, Doug slid on his Nopinz socks. I’d drawn the line there. No way was I compromising the tan line, and we’d agreed that the benefits of me donning those things in Doug’s huge wind shadow were inconclusive.

Bridget and Ian texted to say they were ahead at the van, had unloaded the tandem, and were ready for us. These guys really were pro’s. Twenty to four we joined them in the quiet, dark, City Centre street with time to nervously faff ahead of the 4.00am start. Connect the power packs (Wahoos and my phone wouldn’t last 18 hours) switch on the lights, pack the bike frame bags with 2 hours worth of rice cakes and fill bottles with SIS Beta Fuel. More gadgetry fiddling to ensure Wahoos set to “auto stop off” and double check the “wahooligan” tracker (it looked like one or two intended to follow us).

From there we rolled 100m to the start on the corner of Princess Street and North Bridge Street, outside the imposing former central Post Office building, opposite the “Iron Duke” Wellington statue, pointing down on us from his prancing horse. Supported by a railing, clipped in, Doug and I wished each other luck, as official RRA timekeeper Bridget, in a fluorescent pink gilet, counted down to 4.00am. We were off.

Edinburgh to Newcastle

All the pre ride advice pointed to mentally breaking the distance down into sections rather than contemplate the whole thing as one. We’d broadly agreed four. The first, arguably the most difficult, was the lumpy 109 miles to Newcastle. It felt good to be doing this up front and putting the major climbs behind us. What’s more, an 8mph NW tail wind was bang on favourable. Heading out of Edinburgh, I felt relaxed and excited and we seemed to be going well immediately, energised after a week of tapering down.

First checkpoint was Edinburgh bypass, which we hit in 16 minutes, already 2 minutes ahead of schedule. We had agreed not to go out too fast, but this pace felt fine. At this point I also realised the full value of the schedule that Doug had considerately prepared and inserted into the race number holder on the rear of his skin suit. The schedule showed regular checkpoints with miles alongside planned schedule times. Those highlighted in yellow were the stops and the feed ups. This would be my information source and an important motivator for the next eighteen hours.

The first climb was Soutra Summit which we peaked at 1h 4mins, now five minutes ahead of schedule. At just over 19mph, this was good. Sun rising across the Firth of Forth, the views were breathtaking and now relaxed into the ride, this was a chance for a few encouraging words to one another. I couldn’t see it, but there was a big smile on Doug’s face.

We flew down Soutra in what would be the 4th all time fastest over the 3 mile Strava section averaging 36mph. Only Jake and Doug had gone faster in 2019 on their Edinburgh-York record.  I attempted to relax and reassure myself that Doug knew what he was doing. Easier said than done for a control freak with no ability to steer.

Next milestone at 28.4miles was a feed up. A first for me, as we’d had no opportunity to practice prior to the actual ride. Ian had explained that he would stand by the road side, back to us, also wearing a pink high viz, right arm out sideways. Hanging from his wrist would be an orange Holdsworth musette, containing two full bottles and some rice cakes. Doug would slow down as I speared the musette with my forward pointing left hand/arm. If successful the musette and bottles would whip around my body and give a clout on the back. I would then pass the full bottle forward in exchange for the empty, and then rotate my own full for empty into the bottle cage. Rice cakes into the bar bags, litter and empty bottles back into the musette, I would then fling the whole thing to the roadside for Ian to pick up. What could possibly go wrong?

The first attempt was five out of ten at best. I secured the musette OK but then in my excitement threw out the empty bottles before placing them in the bag. Ian, a pro, had seen it all and collected them, along with the bag, which lay 100m further along the road from the discarded bottles.

The pace was good through Earlston and Jedburgh and over the big climb, Carter Bar. Three hours into the ride, we’d covered over sixty miles, and were in England. With 320 to go, it wasn’t quite the home straight, but leaving Scotland was a decent milestone and we still felt strong.

Nutrition would of course be crucial today. Doug had been comfortable coming into this with his tried and tested fig roll/SIS Beta fuel combo. For me, food was the make or break and I’d been worried about how my body would cope, and accept food, under such strain. This had been a consistent problem on  longer training rides, when after 150 miles, following copious amounts of just about anything available at service stations, I would feel sick and be unable to eat, stomach effectively going on strike under the strain of it all. Only after a 30 minute rest could I gather the strength to continue. There would be no records today with that approach. This effort required something different. 

So I’d rediscovered a rice cake recipe learnt three years earlier from Kourtney Danielson in Tucson, Arizona.  The secret was Sushi Rice, boiled up with coconut oil and cinnamon, then mixed in with Philadelphia cheese and honey, adding a peanut butter and jam layer, cut and  wrapped individually in parchment and foil.  Elizabeth and I had prepared industrial quantities for this. The challenge with rice cakes is that, stuffed into your back pocket, they turn to mush. You can only really use them on supported rides, and when that support is the Boon super Merc, complete with refrigerator, we were able to top up fresh, cold supplies every couple of hours. I was religiously eating one every 30 minutes. With moisture content, loads of easily digestible carbs, and a relatively plain taste (you don’t get sick of them) I would go though 35 of them today, around 9000 calories worth. Doug also developed a taste for them and would have his fair share too, and has placed an order for his next long distance ride. 

Optimally fuelled, we cracked on through Otterburn,  and a final stretch stop at Belsay before hitting  the Newcastle ring road, 100 miles in,  averaging over 20mph, and notwithstanding three wee stops (my over enthusiastic hydration)  we were 15 minutes ahead of schedule. 

Newcastle to Wetherby

Writing this two weeks after the effort, I don’t actually remember much about this next 80 mile section. The wind had turned slightly less favourably, albeit was still behind us, and the topography was kinder. We were into the rhythm of the ride, deep in the moment, cruising above 25mph on the flat, and importantly were maintaining momentum over any lumps by attacking each rise out of the saddles.  These tandems can really shift. Just two wheel rolling friction and double power with one taking the wind. The momentum factor was significant too, as we’d plough into a hill to be carried a good way up it without doing much.  Between Newcastle and Wetherby we bagged several Strava cups and as we hit the familiar Sunday morning territory of Topcliffe and Dishforth, a few PBs for me, an indication of just how well we were going.

My bum was beginning to hurt, and my left hand felt uncomfortable after several weeks of handlebar pressure. Doug’s back and legs were good, the piroformis had settled down, albeit his neck was bad after the miles on the aero bars and his feet would become tender. To combat all this, Doug was wisely encouraging regular on bike stretch sessions. We would wait for a downhill section, then take it in turns to rise on the pedals, out of the saddle, to contort. Each one felt energising, and it’s quite amazing how you get used to stretching back, hamstrings, bum and calf’s, whilst travelling at 25mph. 

The next big milestone would be seeing friends and family in Wetherby. After an uncertain start, the GPS tracker was now working so we were relieved that those making the trip out to Wetherby would be able follow our progress and get there like us, ahead of schedule. As we approached Wetherby, the sun was shining, it was a glorious day, we were twenty minutes ahead of plan, and feeling optimistic. By 12.15pm, we’d been going for eight hours, completed 185miles, and were on track to break the record with a 22mph average. God this felt euphoric and I was so excited to see familiar faces. 

First spot, a couple of miles or so outside Wetherby, on the by-pass, was Pete Kettleborough. Nice. Next a small group making a lot of noise. I looked up in time to see the Hart gang complete with “big hand” props. All smiles and waves from Nina, Theo and Ellie. Impressively the same group managed to jump in the car and catch us a mile or so further down the road, still outside Wetherby, joined this time by ICC stalwart, Ged Millward. Nearby the Walshford Roundabout, having completed potato clearing duties, was Simon Facer. How cool was this!  

Then as we approached Wetherby, “there’s a banner” exclaimed Doug. I peered ahead to see on the approaching roundabout “Go Mark and Doug!”. Elizabeth was hopping up and down, holding the Brayshaw sprayed sheet with Helen (not her finest piece of artwork but still genius), joined by Florence, Alice, Beth Hudson, and a very enthusiastic Tim Brayshaw. Then unexpectedly I spotted the massive smile of, my goodness, Heather Munro. What an inspiration. Just 12 months earlier she’d nearly died in an horrendous car accident, and had since bravely battled to overcome horrific injuries. Seeing her, smiling and waiving crutches, really put this effort into into perspective. I could certainly deal with another 10 hours of pain when compared to what Heather had endured.

 By now I was feeling pretty choked up.  Doug had  a brief word as I interacted with the support  a little too enthusiastically coming into the roundabout, momentarily forgetting that we were moving at speed, on the bend of a  roundabout, on a difficult to steer tandem. That could have been embarrassing…

Into Wetherby centre at pace to see the ICC kit out in force.  Scott Blau, Camilla Boyton, Gordon Clasper and Stephen Richardson had all made the trip. I do love our club. It’s  full of warm and generous hearted people, a selection of  who on this occasion had chosen to take a half day out to see two of their club mates flash by in a couple of seconds. It meant a huge amount to Doug and I and would spur us on for the next section of the challenge.

Wetherby to Peterborough 

Euphoric and energised by the Wetherby support, we ploughed on towards Ferrybridge. I’d been told this next 118 mile section to Peterborough would be the toughest. Indeed, the endorphins started to diminish as, notwithstanding progress to date, it dawned that we still had to do over 200 miles and 10 hours in the saddle, in the heat. It was time to dig in.

At 23 degrees, hydration was getting interesting. We were by now drinking a 750ml bottle every twenty miles, having switched from SIS Beta Fuel to electrolytes, which for me was ORS rehydration tablets into the bottle. We had to avoid the cramps that would otherwise hit on such a hot day (I’d been affected particularly badly on a recent practice ride with no electrolyte intake). The Boon support and pass ups were regular and more essential than ever.

We passed Ferrybridge then through Doncaster, a potential traffic snarl up, but today, luck was good and we sailed trough a series of green lights.

Past Doncaster and onto a planned stop in Blyth. We’d decided to look after ourselves. Well ahead of schedule at this point, the priority was to avoid any sort of physical break down. So a pause allowed for a proper stretch, cool water sponge down with aero helmets off, a pee (albeit not much in this heat) and, well, five minutes not in the saddle! What really struck now was the heat. On the bike there’s a constant cooling breeze, but once static, the radiation from our by now stressed bodies was quite scary. I whacked on some more factor 50, glugged electrolyte and threw down an extra rice cake whilst standing in the shade of the van in a quiet slip road adjacent to an industrial estate.

We now faced the most surreal section. A full 70 miles on the busy A1. After Doncaster and the stop, the average had dropped to  21.5mph, but this section, with good surfaces and no junctions,  should enable us to push that back up beyond 22mph. 

Protection from the Boons was essential. The van displayed a clear sign “RRA OFFICIAL CAR – PLEASE PASS CYCLISTS AHEAD WITH CARE” and two rotating amber warning lights were highly visible. They effectively covered us from behind, which was particularly important as we approached junctions. Motorists were on the whole OK with us, and the encouraging “toot toot to toot toot”s far outweighed the occasional aggressive “TOOOOOOOOT!”

Now at this point, 200 miles in, things really were starting to hurt. Constant effort through the legs, pressure on the bum, heart and lungs working hard were all taking a toll. I have long sections with no recollection whatsoever other than being in a semi trance like state. I’d learnt back in the 90’s as a 400m runner that, the more things hurt, the more you needed to relax through the pain. The same applied here and I became highly attuned to breathing deeply, relaxing the mouth, cheeks, face, arms hands, fingers and toes, focusing  everything through my legs and core. It was like some form of extreme yoga session. Aero tucked, I stared 1000 miles beyond Doug’s lower back, and the road flew past as my mind wandered. Being in that place, so deeply in the zone, is a brilliant experience, and I’m amazed at just want the body can do if the mind allows. Weirdly, I was loving every minute of this. Even more weirdly Madonna’s “Borderline” randomly dropped in and would be the ride earworm from here on in. I really can’t explain that one.

The support was unexpectedly here too. Modern day RRA legend, Mike Broadwith, (@24HourMaths) had been tweeting leading up to our effort, and several groups, interested in long distance cycling records, had made the effort to support. So there they were, on slip roads and road bridges over the A1, clapping and shouting encouragement.  Of particular note were Rob Fairburn, a friend of Doug’s from university days, Martin Purser – who knows a thing or two about RRA tandem trike records and, further south, the legendary Ian Cammish.  Each was a massive boost and we were exceptionally grateful to see them.

Leading up to this event, and now on the road, I really did get an excellent insight and introduction into the RRA community. It was a real privilege to be part of this. The sense of history and shared experience, the willingness to help out one another’s attempts and share in their success was impressive and selfless. Whilst cycling these sort of distances is an individual challenge, we really did experience the collective will of the RRA community, in addition to our families and ICC friends, driving us on to the record. Easily worth another 25w’s on the average power!

At Long Bennington the support team received a further boost, and Hart Senior, Gordon, was on hand to pass up bottles and rice cakes. We would also be joined further on by Marion, Doug’s mum who cycled out from Luton to intersect our route near Henlow.

Having both achieved considerable success on the bike, Doug’s parents were fully engaged in this ride and were evidently proud and happy to support Doug and his mate.

So hurting, albeit fuelled by electrolyte, rice cakes,  deep meditation, RRA, Hart family will power,  and Madonna, we cracked on to Peterborough, hitting some incredible speeds, pulling the average back up to 22.3mph. We’d passed Newark, Grantham and Stamford and 300 miles (13.5 hours) in, we faced a home straight of just 84 miles.  We would surely do this?

Peterborough to London

Inevitably the dip came. What I’d hoped would be a home straight cruise into London turned out to be anything but. We were in for a tough, painful grind home.

First to impact was the wind. It had gradually turned from NW in Edinburgh to SEE now, ie a slight headwind.

Then I heard what sounded like spoke nipples loosening (which turned out to be just one snapped spoke). Convinced we were in for a wheel failure on the rear aero, as had happened four weeks earlier, we called ahead to Ian, asking for the spare to be prepared. The the pit stop was reasonably slick, but still knocked the average. 

Next Doug’s foot was causing problems. At 88kg and 6ft 6.5” the power necessary to maintain forward momentum means that Doug’s feet take the strain, so 300 miles into this ride, having attacked most hills out of the saddle at 400W+, they were hurting. We backed off from out of the saddle riding. That took some of the pressure off but did to an extent knock our rhythm particularly as the topography became lumpier. Inevitably Doug’s power output dropped, and let’s face it, that had a disproportionate impact on our speed.

So within thirty miles of Peterborough, we were under pressure. I think we both knew the record was in the bag, but a 22mph average was looking more challenging. 

We circumvented Huntingdon, St Neots, Sandy, Hitchin and Stevenage then as dusk set in, through Welwyn, where the climbs really started to bite.  We were thankful for support towards these latter stages from the Broadwidth family and also, making an appearance from my world of work, Rob Jones.

This was painful now, and we really were just hanging on, albeit pushing to keep the speed up. Doug was still calculating what would be required to finish with a 22mph average, albeit that goal was seemingly slipping away, particularly as we’d taken a half mile detour (wrong turn) just outside Hatfield. That said, I was doing as instructed and pushing hard. It’s amazing what’s possible when in that home straight mindset, and we were both still finding power from some deep rice cake fuelled reserves.

The incredible generosity of those who’d sponsored this ride was driving us on too. As we’d set off from Edinburgh, justgiving totalled over ￡11k for LandAid and Shelter From The Storm, a sum that would subsequently rise to over ￡18k.

The sense of accomplishment built further as we rode through Potters Bar and inside the M25, a regular training route out from Kings Cross for me. We were now 15 miles from home, on familiar roads. Aside from the absence of cheering crowds, this felt like a final procession to the finish.

After endless open roads and sunshine, the contrast of riding in built up areas, under streetlights, amongst the illuminated shops and restaurants, in traffic, could not have been more stark. The diversity of this ride had been incredible, but in the latter stages the traffic was a problem. For the first time I felt nervous about being hit by a car. We weren’t that visible in the half light, and manoeuvring the tandem out of trouble would be tricky, even for Doug. So the last 5 or so miles were very slow as we gingerly navigated our way through central London. The 22mph target was definitely gone.

Through High Barnet, Archway then Highgate we ventured into Rapha CC London territory and I reflected on those 5am starts to repeatedly smash up Swains Lane with the Cocktail Club. Those efforts just might have counted for something.

The illuminated City skyline looked more magnificent than ever as we freewheeled down Holloway Road, the final section of the original A1. I’ve never been so happy to see the brutalist architecture of Barbican towers as we glided past the Museum of London, cornered off Cheapside, St Paul’s Cathedral in front of us, then into King Edwards Street. I wonder what Roland Hill, the originator of the penny postage system would have made of all this, as we drew up alongside his statue, and RRA official timekeeper Vince Freeley stopped the clock.  At 17 hrs, 52 mins and 29 seconds we’d beaten the previous record by nearly 50 minutes. Blimey!

Exhausted, wobbly and a little light headed, Doug and I exchanged congratulations and thanked Vince for giving up his Saturday night. To be honest I didn’t quite know whether to lie down, stand up and stretch or walk around? Nothing felt comfortable. It was a relief to see Bridget and Ian approach in the van followed shortly afterwards by Gordon and Marion. I was really happy for Doug as having his mum and dad there at the finish was special.

We were both then stunned to look at the phone and see just how much social media following we’d had that day. We really had no idea, but it was fantastic to see all the interest. Dot watching had captured the imagination of our friends, family, club members and work colleagues, not to mention the RRA community. There had clearly been some jeopardy in following our progress, as many had understandably interpreted the “schedule” as record pace, so as we fell behind schedule in the last 50 miles, the “will they do it?” question loomed large.  Thankfully Doug had set the schedule well ahead of record pace so the fans needn’t have worried!

It had been a long long day which came at the end of a stressful week. We were tired. Time for reflection and recovery would come. For now, thank you to Bridget and Ian. They had been immense for the whole ride.  Goodbye to Gordon, Marion and Vince, I was grateful for their help, as was Doug.

Then we made our way to my flat in Kings Cross where we would shower and venture into the London night in search of food, being rewarded with the best tasting Big Mac ever and later, back at the flat, two very comfortable mattresses.

That had been some day.

Two weeks on

Sore bum and legs healed, having read the many messages of congratulations and support, we really could reflect on the achievement. I still can’t quite believe it.  With a moving average of 22.2mph over the 387 miles and nearly  5000m of climbing towards an RRA record would have  seemed impossible just four months earlier.

From the outset, Doug had instilled an understated “you can do this, I wouldn’t have asked you if not” confidence and I’m incredibly grateful for that.  For Doug, a sixth RRA record is a huge achievement, making him one of the modern day giants (literally) of long distance cycling records. I feel privileged  to have been able to help him to achieve that, and as things turned out, we became a compatible and effective duo.

Raising ￡17k for youth homelessness has been a fabulous bi-product of this endeavour.  As tough as this ride was, it was nothing compared to the daily challenges faced by a young person with no home, living on the streets.  Evidently this point was recognised by the many generous people who sponsored our ride.

Doing something like this involves a huge amount of ultimately selfish focus.  It certainly would not have been possible without the patience and latitude provided by Elizabeth and the rest of my family. For eight weeks, I was working and riding. That was it. Notwithstanding WFH, I was there, but not fully present. The domestic account was in huge deficit by the end of all this and that’s not a sustainable position. So as to whether this is the last foray into long distance record breaking remains to be seen. For now, I’m doing my best to focus on the things that really matter.

As is often the case in life, when you think the pressure is all too much and goals seem unattainable, there’s usually a little extra you can find from somewhere. For us, a combination of training, great planning, fantastic back up, luck, favourable weather conditions, will power and the support of many kind people, meant we achieved something that on the face of it seemed impossible, at least to 50% of the participants.

 All in all an incredible life experience  and I certainly don’t regret that 2017 push on Leathley Hill.

Written by Mark Bourgeois – August 2020

Edits – Doug Hart and Scott Blau

To donate: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/mark-bourgeois1