It’s a long way, cycling from London to Wales. Especially if you go via Tewkesbury, where Shakespeare’s Avon meets the Severn, and cycle all the way back, through the night.

That’s London Wales London, the 407km annual ride organised by Liam FitzPatrick, and a firm favourite in the audax (long distance cycling) calendar. Its current popularity was helped by a rebranding from the old Severn Across name to echo the likes of London Edinburgh London, and Paris Brest Paris.

I’ve been dreaming of doing London Wales London for several years. It starts just down the road in Chalfont St Peter – not exactly London, but the M25 London orbital motorway goes through the parish. And being Welsh, the idea of cycling to Cymru and back in a day inspires a certain patriotic pride.

At 6am Liam set us off, and I was reflecting on the novelty of using the familiar road to Amersham as the opening of my longest ever – and first international – day ride. After four kilometres I noted that I had completed one percent of the challenge, before banishing such thoughts as soul destroying. One kilometre at a time is the secret to endurance cycling.

I’d ridden the first 90km on my 157 mile rehearsal ride three weeks ago, so I knew what to expect, including the climb up through pretty Stanton St John, Oxfordshire, before a welcome second, cooked, breakfast at the Islip control. As an audax newbie, I was glad to learn from the other riders, including one with a fear of heights who said he was dreading the Severn Bridge, and would feel the worst was over when he reached the English side.

I loved the section from Islip across the rolling Oxfordshire countryside, and the climb out of lovely Charlbury was benign, unlike three weeks ago when it ganged up with a headwind to make me very miserable. I smiled at the ‘Charlbury railway children’ sign near the station – what a name for a nursery! Before long, the LWL route cut north west, heading for Stow on the Wold. Seeing the church high above us confirmed that we’d be climbing to this classic Cotswold town, but that was nothing compared with being confronted with a queue of traffic. This was very unusual – kudos to Liam for devising a route along such quiet roads.

We were now in classic Cotswold country, with honey-hued stone buildings that had stood up well to centuries of English weather (“Stow on the Wold, where the winds blow cold.”) The village names evoked memories: Stanley Pontlarge was home of the writer LTC Rolt, a pioneer of the preservation of Britain’s industrial heritage, who died 50 years ago this month. He helped save the Talyllyn Railway in North Wales, the world’s first preserved railway. Another familiar name was Prescott, home of one of Britain’s most famous hill climbs. (That got me worried unnecessarily…) By coincidence, the Bugatti Owners’ Club ran events at Chalfont St Peter before switching to Prestcott in the 1930s.

The route after Winchcombe was delightfully fast and flat after the demanding Cotswold hills, and before long I was enjoying lunch at Tewkesbury Abbey, listening to the bells and reflecting on the morning. The town is often awash – it’s on the Severn’s floodplain – but the weather was benign today. Shakespeare’s Avon joins the Severn here, the first of two rivers Avon we’d cross. This isn’t a coincidence – Afon is the Welsh for river, so the English were unimaginative in adopting this as their most common river name.

The next section was unexpectedly tough. A slog – should I have eaten more? Or was it the inevitable lull that comes on a long distance ride? But there were highlights: passing the curiously named village Corse Lawn, where we stayed for my friend Kerry’s wedding to Mark in 2016. And a nice interlude in Walford, where we had to answer a question to prove we’d been through.

I knew the toughest climb of the ride was Yat Rock. Nostalgia hid the brutal nature of the ascent: I cherish childhood 1970s memories of family day trips to Symonds Yat and the Wye Valley with Nan, my Victorian grandmother. I took my time, walking the toughest section – only to avoid the chaos of cars trying to pass each other on this single track road, you understand – before the relief of reaching the summit. Signs for the village of English Bicknor underlined that this was border country. Over these miles I was glad of Eddie’s company. He’d done LWL several times before, and kindly said I was doing well for my first 400km ride. We rode together at various times from here to just after the Somerset Monument climb.

I was relishing the promised descent to Chepstow, but just as I thought the climbing was over another hill popped up. At last I saw the cliffs hugging the river and knew that it was downhill all the way to Wales. There was evidence of a border incursion: a road works sign in Welsh placed firmly on the English side of the border, which amused me.

It was a proud moment after 217km to cross the handsome old Wye bridge into Wales, designed by John Rastrick, one of the judges of the 1829 Rainhill locomotive trials on the world’s first inter-city railway, the Liverpool & Manchester. (They adjudged Robert Stephenson’s Rocket the best engine.) I had told my cousin Wendy, who runs the wonderful Châteaux Bon Bon sweet shop in Chepstow, that I hoped to arrive around 5.25pm, but I was over an hour behind schedule. So I was thrilled to hear her calling directions to me as I worked out the way to the Chepstow control. She and husband Kev had already shown a lot of riders the way!

We chatted before I headed over for another fine London Wales London meal. The volunteers were wonderful, fetching water, bringing food to the table and generally making the life of the long distance rider as easy as possible. This sustenance kept me going on the long session towards Lambourn.

It was time to cross back into England, over the mighty Severn. A bridge was first proposed in 1824, but it took another 142 years before the estuary was finally bridged. The magnificent crossing is actually two bridges: the elegant Wye bridge is overshadowed by its spectacular brother over the Severn. I first cycled over these bridges 30 years ago this month, on my first big ride, from Wiltshire to my hometown, Cardiff. Back then the Severn Bridge carried the M4 London to South Wales motorway, but after the second Severn crossing opened in 1996 it has been the M48. On my 1994 trip I could see the second bridge under construction.

This was one of my favourite parts of LWL. It was a beautiful evening, I was feeling good and even the prospect of the climb to the Somerset Monument didn’t faze me. I loved my forward shadow, and appreciated company for the next hour or so. Liam and team had chosen an easier route than I plotted for my 2013 Cardiff to Chalfont tour: it climbs from the Severn, first gently near Thornbury, and then the big rise to the monument, after traversing a lovely open landscape called Inglestone Common.

I made the ascent to the Monument as the light was fading, as you can see from the photo to the left, above. But looking back to the west the warm twilight glow was still evident. I chatted to Eddie and another rider at the summit before we pressed on.

It was time to embrace the night. I put my jacket on, and made good speed along the lanes to Malmesbury, despite initially missing the turn onto the lane to Sherston. This was a nicer route than the parallel B4040, and before long I was taking a breather in Malmesbury. I was now 65 minutes behind my schedule, but was relaxed about this, as I still had almost 11 hours to complete the ride.

I thought a lot about my late sister on this section of the ride. She died, aged 63, in 2017 and her moving funeral service took place in Malmesbury Abbey that May. Later, I saw the familiar sign to Braydon, the hamlet near Brinkworth where she had lived. Soon after I passed the pub in Wootton Bassett where we used to go for a drink in the garden when her children, Siân, Ria and Ben were little. (They’re now in their thirties and forties.)

Cyclists rarely visit petrol stations – except on an overnight audax ride. So it proved on LWL. I bought a Wispa chocolate bar from the kiosk window at the Esso station at Coped Hall, and not long after bought another bar and sausage roll at the garage at Chiseldon, literally the last place for supplies before Henley-on-Thames apart from a meal at Lambourn control. I enjoyed the surreal experience of eating part of the roll while taking a breather on the prehistoric Ridgeway path, Britain’s oldest road. In the solitude I tried to imagine a drover making his way along this path 5,000 years ago, but the massed lights of Swindon in the distance brought me abruptly back to 2024.

The climb on the Roman road through Baydon towards Lambourn runs alongside the M4 motorway, and I found it surprisingly easy even after 300km, which was a pleasant surprise – much easier than the nearby ascent from Ashbury on my training ride three weeks ago. This was one of my favourite parts of the ride, as I made my way up onto the Lambourn (North Wessex) Downs, with the red lights of the mast at Membury motorway services guiding me on.

As I cycled into Lambourn around 1.15am, I obediently turned right when my Garmin told me to. After a few hundred metres I was starting to fret that I had missed the control when I saw a lamp held by a cheery volunteer making sure riders didn’t fly past. That was typical of the selflessness of the LWL team. As I wheeled my bike inside the hall I saw a couple of cyclists curled up on the floor, catching a nap before the final push. Others were struggling to stand up after sitting to eat their food, as muscles protested. One person was waiting for a taxi to the finish. By contrast, I was in far better condition than I had any right to expect after 316km, and curiously wide awake (but would feel the muscle effects over the days after finishing). A lamb curry was just what I needed.

It was time to don leg warmers, and venture into the dark night. As I wheeled the bike out, the cold (it was around 6C) hit me – yet I’d been fine in shorts just 30 minutes earlier. After a few minutes of cycling I warmed up, and made good time, reflecting how much I’d enjoyed this section on my training ride. The roads were so much drier tonight, which was a blessing. It’s fair to say that I’d had enough of hills by this stage, especially pesky Buckham Hill after Great Shefford. But this wasn’t a race, and I simply took my time.

It was shortly after 4am that it suddenly struck me: the sky wasn’t quite as dark, and morning was breaking. This was one of the most magical aspects of LWL for me. I’d enjoyed the clear, starry night, although I didn’t spot the shooting stars that were predicted. (I thought I saw one, but then realised all the stars seemed to be moving, so put that down to the mysteries of night riding.) After Streatley and the Thames bridges came the last big climb of the ride, up from Goring. Again I took my time, and enjoyed the twilight. It was only last month that I found out that there’s a morning as well as an evening twilight, and here I was enjoying it to the full. Thank you LWL.

It was properly light as we entered Henley-on-Thames and my only significant navigation error. As we entered the town my Garmin told me to turn right, so I did. Then it told me to make a u-turn, so I did. It was only after we were about to leave Henley that we realised that the earlier right turn took us to the 24 hour Esso station, which we needed to visit to get a receipt to prove we’d been through the town. So we worked our way back, round the one way system, with me apologising for the extra distance. We ordered hot bacon rolls and drinks from Greggs in the Esso, only to find the receipt didn’t feature the location… But the main Esso till did, and I popped the Twix bar I bought there into my jacket pocket to enjoy the following day. This was the only time I felt really cold, shivering as the cold air seeped through the doors into every crevice of the place. I knew the cure – get cycling!

I was now on very familiar territory, and apart from the nasty rise approaching Marlow enjoyed riding along a deserted A4155. (It’s a very different story during the day – as Liam acknowledged in the ride notes.) I will long remember the sight of the union of the sun and the mist over the Thames. I had just one final decision: bite the bullet and tackle the Wooburn Green climb to Beaconsfield, or take the longer but easier ascent via Watery Lane? I chickened out, and avoided the bullet.

As I had time to spare, I took my usual route from Beaconsfield to Chalfont St Giles, rather than the climb past the youth hostel up Welders Lane, but even the familiar, gentle climb of Bottom Lane to Seer Green was a challenge after 13,000 feet of climbing and 250 miles. Before long, I was relishing the descent of Chalfont St Peter high street, empty at just after 8am on this bright Sunday morning. I just needed to negotiate the path onto the A413 to avoid a road closure, hop back on the bike and cycle triumphantly into the Community Centre car park. Karen was there to capture the moment.

Liam and his team welcomed me, and I bought the souvenir LWL cap, with a donation to the World Bicycle Relief charity, which ’empowers women and girls around the world with life-changing bicycles’.

The sense of achievement only really struck me the following day. I am so pleased that I took on my biggest cycling challenge. Here’s to the next one!

Here’s my highlights video for LWL 2024:

What did I learn from my first 400km audax?

London Wales London (should that be Llundain Cymru Llundain?) was the perfect debut. It’s brilliantly organised, the route is fabulous, and Liam’s communications are as good as I’ve seen from any cycling event. If you’re interested in taking part, do take a look at the website here.

Training makes all the difference

Last year, I went on a cycling holiday in Portugal without having put in the miles in the months leading up to the trip. It wasn’t intentional – my father’s death and dreadful spring weather meant my best laid plans didn’t happen. I was determined to be ready for LWL, and had clocked up over 2,000 miles by the end of April. Most importantly, I did that rehearsal ride of 157 miles (252 km), so I was mentally prepared for endurance riding.

Get yourself and your bike match fit

I had to deal with a couple of issues affecting my bike and me before LWL. I’d so glad I didn’t put these off.

A month out, I was suffering persistent saddle sores. The thought of starting a 400km ride with a sore backside didn’t bear thinking about, so I went to see my doctor, who prescribed fucidin hydrocortisone cream. This cleared the problem within days.

I was also took the bike to Cychemistry in Chesham for a final check up, especially my tubeless set up. This proved critical: Jason and Mark diagnosed a faulty valve on the front wheel and recommended replacing the rear tyre, which it turned out had been damaged when I punctured on my big training ride. The tubeless sealant had worked its magic on that outing, but I am glad I didn’t trust to luck on LWL.

Judging from the latest edition of the London Edinburgh London cycling podcast, an amazing number of people start that 1,500km odyssey on bikes that are barely roadworthy. As a result, the volunteer mechanics spend hours trying to get them back on the road. You can never rule out a mechanical, but getting my bike serviced before I go is essential for my peace of mind. (And a courtesy to those hard-working volunteers.)

Eat and drink on the ride

I had breakfast at 4.30am on the day of the ride. I didn’t want to eat, but knew I’d be in trouble trying to cycle the 61km (37 miles) to breakfast at the Islip control on an empty stomach. Even then, I sensed a drop in my energy levels about 20 minutes from Islip, so ate a Clif Bloks energy chew to top up my fuel.

I enjoyed the LWL hot meals at Islip, Chepstow and Lambourn. It’s probably not a coincidence that my weakest leg of the ride was from Tewkesbury to Chepstow: I only had a sandwich lunch at Tewkesbury. It obviously wasn’t enough.

I only used two of the caffeine gels I carried, as I found the Bloks suited me better.

For the first 196 miles (316km), I popped an electrolyte tablet (Precision Hydration 250) in every water bottle. This was a good lesson from my 157 mile training ride, and that lesson held true on LWL. After Lambourn, in the dark of the night, I decided to drink plain water. I suspect that was at least part of the reason for my weakness on the hills from there to the finish.

Lighting the way

Good lights are essential when riding through the night. An obvious point, but do your chosen lights last a whole night? I figured that I’d need about eight hours of lighting, which ruled out my normal front light. After a heavy hint from me, Karen kindly gave me an Exposure Strada for Christmas, and I tested it during that training ride. I worked out that program 3 on medium setting would give me up to 12 hours – more than enough. That proved spot on, as I had over three hours’ charge left when the morning was light enough to switch it off. The light very helpfully and visibly tells you how much longer it will run for.

I also bought a battery-powered rear light, rather than my usual USB-charging one, so I could pop new batteries in if it died, rather than wait for a charge to complete. That worked brilliantly too.

Talking of devices, my Garmin 1040 solar powered computer was equally reliable, again completing the ride with over 30% charge left. My iPhone made it home too – just – with 1% charge remaining!

Don’t overstay at controls and other stops

The LWL volunteers were so welcoming that it was tempting to linger at the controls, savouring more food. But it’s much harder to make up time on the road than to cut time at stops. My cycling time was just over 20 hours, which means that I lost 6 hours, 23 minutes at various stops. Had I needed to sleep at Lambourn, I’d probably have been out of time at the arrivée. I can see that I was leaking time after Tewkesbury without realising it – while also riding slightly more slowly than expected, That’s a lesson for next time.

Layering: dress for success

In Britain, even in the summer the temperature can drop sharply overnight. That may not matter if you’re nursing a beer at home, but it very definitely counts on a lonely road through the Wessex Downs. I had a couple of base layers, a long sleeved jersey and a rain jacket, plus leg warmers, and used all of them at various times over the 26 hours. I was only ever cold when stopped, especially in that Henley petrol station, but was glad to have options. By contrast, I saw a few riders really badly affected by the cold.

Don’t forget your cycling glasses…

My biggest mistake was to leave my cycling glasses at home. Karen kindly went back to look for them, without success, but brought my sunglasses. (I knew I couldn’t afford to ride without eye protection – the thought of an insect hitting my eye when descending at 35mph didn’t bear thinking about.) It was curious wearing sunglasses in the pitch black of the night, and I took them off briefly to see more clearly how near I was to the summit of a climb. I was so glad I had them, but next time I’ll be sure to take my proper cycling glasses.

Mind over matter

I always thought that the battle to complete LWL would take place in my mind as well as my muscles. As Liam FitzPatrick told The Guardian in 2018, the mental challenge could be tougher than the physical. ‘What makes it difficult isn’t so much the speed, it’s that you’ve got time to think.’ That’s why tackling a very long ride before LWL was so important to me: to prove I could do it, and to have a good idea of what it would feel like.

I tried not to reflect how far I still had to ride. Thinking of a very long ride as lots of shorter stretched worked well: first, the very familiar route to beyond Charlbury, then the novelty of cycling across the Cotswolds. Later it was the anticipation of reaching Wales, followed by the Severn crossing. And so it went on. The miles just seemed to slip by especially after crossing back into England.

I brought my Shokz OpenRun Pro headphones so I could listen to my LWL playlist, podcasts and endurance cyclist Emma Chappell’s audio edition of Where There’s a Will but I gave up after one podcast. I just wasn’t in the mood, and found birdsong all I needed to sustain me. (You can hear some of this avian song contest at the end of the highlights video, recorded around 4.15am.)

I loved getting encouraging messages from Karen and Owen along the way, and missed exchanging update texts overnight.

I loved riding through the night

‘No sight is more provocative of awe than is the night sky’ – Llewelyn Powys

I’ve read that some people on long audax rides try to avoid night riding. That’s not an option for most of us on a 400km challenge, as you won’t finish within the 27 hour limit if you pause when it gets dark. I was genuinely surprised how much I loved experiencing the whole arc of the night, from that warm evening glow to the dawn of a new day. It helped that we had glorious weather and clear skies – the array of stars was awe inspiring, to echo Llewelyn Powys. I may not have been so joyous had I been navigating flooded roads amidst torrential rain.

Don’t neglect your recovery post-ride

I relished a day of leisure after completing LWL. I lingered over a second breakfast (after the very welcome tea and toast at the arrivée). I wallowed in the bath, and snoozed. But I neglected a few simple steps that may have made the coming 24 hours more comfortable. I had been cycling for over 20 hours during the 26 hours 30 minutes I took to do the 407km, but after finishing it didn’t occur to me to do any stretches to aid my recovery. Similarly, I could have upped my protein intake to reward my muscles for their massive effort powering me to Wales and back. As it was, I could barely move when I got up the next morning! I won’t make that mistake next time.

London Edinburgh London?

I saw LWL as a good measure of whether I could even contemplate the far greater challenge of London Edinburgh London, a 1500km ride held every four years.

I was still in the Cotswolds when I decided such a challenge was beyond me. The toll on body and spirit would be huge. Yet now, after the satisfaction of completing LWL successfully with something to spare, I’m not so sure. I have a guaranteed place for 2025, and that would have to be the year – it really would be too much by 2029, when I’d be approaching 66.

Time will tell…

Postscript

London Wales London organiser Liam FitzPatrick suggested I submit this blogpost to the editor of the Audax UK magazine, Arrivée, for possible inclusion. Ged Lennox was keen, and my story appears in the current edition. It’s not online, but if you’ve read this post you will have read it anyway! Thanks, Liam and Ged. I was chuffed when endurance cycling legend Emily Chappell told me she really liked the article in a comment to me on her inspirational Unfinished Journeys substack here.