By Ian Breslin

I click down the right shifter a couple of times, and try to get some oxygen into my lungs, salt stinging my eyes I reach into my pocket and remove my last gel. The warm sickly sweet liquid spills over my fingers as my fatigue overcomes my dexterity and I suck up the remainder of the sachets pitiful offering. I’ve reached the plateau next to the fort having managed the first steep hairpins of “The Pass” and still on the bike. But HARDKNOTT PASS does not give itself up easily and ahead in the distance is a vertical wall of tarmac which stands in the way of my personal piece of glory. I look up at the left hand switchback and its 33% slope. “Walkers “litter its slopes like a scene from Walking Dead.” DONT BE A WALKER”I MUTTER, TIME TO COMMIT, TIME TO GO DEEP…..

The earliest recorded road over Hardknott was built by the Romans around AD110 to link the coastal fort and baths at Ravenglass with their Garrisons at Ambleside and Kendal, this was known as the Tenth Highway. The road fell into disrepair following the Romans departure and remained an unpaved Packhorse route through much of the middle ages. In the 1880s The English Lake District Association (an association of local hoteliers) financed improvements to the road in an ill fated attempt to encourage tourism.
Nevertheless the road found popularity with early motorists and cyclists. The CTC Club guide to the North West describing the old coach road as difficult going West, Cruel going east.
In 1936 the Cumberland Highways Committee considered and rejected a proposal to laying down a new road surface and other improvements, however, during world war 2, the war office used the area for tank training completely destroying the existing road surface, after the war repairs were made to the road and new tarmac was laid, inadvertently creating the road between Eskdale and Ambleside we know today.

The earliest crossing of Hardknott by car was in 1913, this shows a car near the summit in 1925

My earliest recollections of Hardknott Pass are from camping holidays in the Duddon Valley with my mum dad and Brother. I remember my dad having a standoff with a man and his terrified wife as they attempted to pass on one of the corners. The woman screaming at her husband not to move over fearing they would disappear over the side as we eased our Hillman Estate through the narrow gap, and in my late teens burning out a clutch on a Transit van as we rushed to get back to the Old Dungeon Ghyll for last orders after a day’s climbing in Eskdale.
So when I began cycling again in my forties an attempt on Hardknott was pretty high on my list of priorities.
I’d heard about the Fred Whitton so in 2008 tried without success to get an entry, there was however another Sportive the Lakeland Loop which took in Hardknott so I duly filed my online entry and readied myself for the big day
To say I was unprepared was an understatement and on arriving at the foot of Hardknott completely knackered and with a badly buckled back wheel my first attempt petered out after a few mere pedal strokes past the cattle grid.1-0 to the Pass. A similar effort in the same event the next year yielded an equally unsuccessful result, this time I managed to make it a moderate distance up the first hairpins but my chances of success looked slimmer than ever,” The Walk of Shame” was becoming regular event,
Still, undeterred, I posted my Fred entry at the beginning of 2010 and yes 2 weeks later I got a letter saying I was in. This was it I was gonna get fit, get thin and conquer Hardknott once and for all.
I did train pretty hard and on the day I was pretty fit. I made light work of the early climbs of Honister and Whinlatter; I made one big error though, having started at 6am in Coniston on a cool clear spring morning I was overdressed for the heat of the day as I made the long ascent over Cold fell. I was overheating and was also becoming dehydrated. At the feed stop at Calder Bridge I resorted to stuffing my jacket into my jersey pocket and must have resembled a burst sofa as I left the feed station and headed for Eskdale. Id targeted 9hrs for the day and when I reached Eskdale green with a couple of hours to spare I was reasonably confident of being inside the time. After what seemed like an age riding up the Eskdale valley. the red phone box came in site and as the road started to steepen, my muscles began to tighten and the onset of cramp was all too sudden signalling the end to another futile attempt, Trevor Page and Leanne Thompson, Lune teammates and Fred connoisseurs rode past me seemingly with ease and offered words of encouragement, they were lost in the breeze as I continued the Walk of Shame, now a familiar ritual, 3-0 to the Pass.

A couple of years passed, and with them my obsession with the climb tempered, a chance phone call in August 2012 was to change that.
“Ian, its Trevor (Page) we are doing the Edgar ride (an annual club ride usually over Honister) tomorrow but we’ve changed the route, you up for it”
“Yeah I replied omitting to ask what the new route was.
“Its gonna be Mals Bucket list ride. Mal wants to do Hardknott before he dies”, explained Trevor.
“Hopefully not immediately before” I answered hoping that I wasn’t tempting fate.
My fitness was questionable but curiosity got the better of me and we would be hitting the climb reasonably fresh after about 45 miles.
As I remember the weather turned pretty bad as we rode up Eskdale, i formed a Grupetto with Mal Bisby and John Butler,
Surprisingly I managed to keep the bike going up to the really hard top section where I dismounted and walked before managing to remount for the last few hundred metres, though it must be said Mal was walking just as fast alongside me. It was 4-0 to The Pass But I sensed that id found a way to keep going on the real steep bits and Mal was still breathing so the day was passed off as a success and we resolved to return the next year. The Mal Ride was born.

Setting off on the inaugural Mal Ride from Millside, Aug 2012,
Phil Peake, Mark Robinson, Howard Hirst, Rob Ford, John Butler, Mal Bisby, Leanne Thompson, Deb John.

We did indeed return the next year and the following transcript is from the ride report I published on the Lune Facebook page after the ride

“It was a grey overcast sky that greeted 8 riders that departed the hamlet of Staveley in Cartmel on a day that promised sunshine burning through the cloud and 7000 ft of climbing before returning to our base. Myself, Trevor, Leanne, Tony, Nick, Phil, new boy James and of course ride honouree Mal rode out Westward taking in Bouth and Spark Bridge before pleasantries were dispensed with when the first major climb of the day saw the climb of Subberthwaite behind us. It’s summit providing us with a teasing view of our chosen route. A fast descent into Broughton in Furness where nourishment was taken before embarking on the serious business of the day. A right turn at Duddon Bridge saw everyone reaching for bottom gear as the 25% slopes of Bank end gained access to the Duddon Valley though the usual fast descent to Ulpha was tempered by a liberal sprinkling of chippings forced us to ease our way down to Ulpha Bridge. Where here relief from the chippings was short lived as the ride again ramped up on the Climb of Bobbin Mill Hill which led us onto Corney Fell. Now the Sun had broken through and a tail wind helped the riders to the distant summit of Corney Fell, though gentle in gradient the climb is long and the scenery and views make this climb well worthwhile. The full splendour of the Lake districts highest Fells to the right and coastal views down to the left must have inspired Mal as he sprinted for the summit past me. Another breathtaking descent saw us rejoin the A595 Briefly before a winding lane took us towards Eskdale and the impending and intimidating Hardknott Pass. On a personal note. This hill has always fascinated me ever since I began cycling, trying and failing on several occasions to conquer its brutal gradients. Though not possessing the natural attributes required to climb hills after a few near misses I was always hopeful that brute strength might get me over it. Steady progress up the Eskdale valley past the Railway station the pass appeared above us. On first appearance it’s difficult to imagine a road can actually be plotted up the slopes ahead. But sure enough you can soon make out the glimmer of car bodywork and the sun shining off the Tarmac. Passing the phone box and the 30% gradient warnings I draw my weapon and engage my 30×28. A cattle grid signals the beginning of hostilities and immediately I get into survival mode. The first section consists of a series of steadily steepening hairpin ramps. Ridiculously steep in fact but I manage to get a rhythm going and thankfully no downward traffic which helps you to plot your line round the steep hairpins. Mal puts a foot down in front of me, quickly followed by Phil and Nick. I target getting through this first section as there’s a bit of a plateau were you can recover. First section complete I look ahead to the really tough upper slopes and especially the left hand switchback which is the steepest 30% section. James, Trevor and Leanne make light work of this and as I approach the “crux” of the climb I can see Tony Falter at the steepest points. I decide to commit and go deep to give it my best shot. Luck is on my side and there’s no traffic so I can take the wider route round the crucial corner. In front now is a 50 m section of Tarmac which has to be the hardest section of road in his country. I force my weight right to the front of the saddle and grimace. The road surface is very poor and it forced me over to the left of the road and almost into the verge, I make one more big effort and get the bike forward to the right hand bend and brief respite. That’s the hardest bit done and I’m still on the bike but I know I’m deep in the red now and the road kicks up again. Traffic as well now but I just keep it going to another slight plateau. I look up and see the road kick up again and I know this is the last steep bit but I know I have got very little in the tank. I try to get out of the saddle but it’s useless. One more effort but the inevitable happens and I succumb 20yards from my goal. Maybe next year! We all descend Hardknott cautiously and then Wrynose comes all too quickly where at the top we all took a well earned rest. The route then followed the FW route to Coniston for refuelling before an ascent of Hawkshead Hills quieter lanes signalled the end of give days climbing efforts. A fast ride to Lakeside and Newby Bridge brought the group home where some tired bodies bid each other farewell and climbed into their cars vowing to return next year. Here’s to Mal and The Mal Ride now a firm fixture on the Lune Calendar”

Reaching the top of the 33% ramp in Lune retro colours 2013, only to unravel at the very last section

Leanne Thompson making it look all too easy

Mal and Leanne enjoying the
Sunshine and scenery

Knackered at the top of Wrynose, Me, Tony Edge, Nick Miller, James Darnell, Trevor Page, Mal Bisby.

In the late summer of 2014 , Talk, again turned to planning another assault Trevor, Leanne and myself the chief instigators , it had been a busy summer , I was fitter and lighter than ever and as well as riding out to watch the tour in July I completed the Edgar ride in full from Lancaster. I even managed to have a minor impact on the crits at Salt Ayre. We set a date for late August , for the first time I really fancied my chances of clearing the pass but as the day approached , the weather turned for the worst , high winds and rain forecast for the day so , the decision was made to postpone the ride. Problem was the next weekend was the Bank Holiday and the traffic on the pass would make cycling difficult to say the least; I would have to wait 2 more weeks for my moment but wondered if my fitness would hold or was fate to deal me a lousy hand.

Again, the following passage is from the ride report published on the Facebook page after the ride. Some of the descriptive may be similar to the previous passage but they were written in isolation 12 months apart.

“It was with a strange sense of foreboding that I set off with 7 others from Staveley in Cartmel to begin the 3rd Annual Lune RCC Mal ride , and when my front wheel proved troublesome to align before departure I began to fear today was not going to go well.
Any worries were soon forgotten as our group consisting of Andy hill, Trevor Page, Leanne Thompson, John Butler, Rob Ford, David Switzer, and Howard Hirst who had ridden from home , headed west to Spark Bridge and over Subberthwaite common before dropping down to Broughton in Furness for breakfast where we were joined by Tony Edge , the feeling of doom then returned when we arrived in Broughton to find Lathams bakery closed due to illness. After consoling Trevor we decided to push on to our next obstacle the 4 mile long climb of Corney Fell.

Rob Ford , Trevor Page and Howard Hirst on the beautiful scenic slopes of Corney Fell

Steepest on its lower slopes in the tree line it then levels out onto beautiful panoramic moorland before plunging down on a breathtaking straight descent. A short break to regroup and for Trevor to pick Blackberries was taken before pushing on towards Eskdale and welcome refreshment at the railway station Cafe

A welcome feed stop before the climbing begins. Eskdale railway Cafe.
Tony Edge, Dave Switzer, Andy Hill, John Butler, myself, Howard Hirst, Rob Ford, Leanne Thompson and an empty seat for Mal

Death by Cheese for Trevor Page, Tony Edge and Andy Hill.

Where thoughts turned to the impending ascent of Hardknott Pass and the dark clouds of doubt in my mind gathered again. I had a score to settle with “The Pass” having narrowly succumbed to its brutal slopes last year. As we rode up towards the red telephone box that marks the start of hostilities I noticed a slight tailwind which lifted my dark mood, So onto the pass and there’s no gentle introduction, more a bludgeoning of the legs as the road rises out from the trees across the cattle grid and up to the first left hand hairpin which signals a section of viciously steep and uneven Tarmac cutting into the hillside. The hot summer has melted the tar and passing traffic has deformed it causing ripples to add to the cyclists’ misery. Brief respite is found as a flatter section leads to the ultimate endgame in my personal battle. I have despatched the lower slopes reasonably well and feel my chances are good. In the distance I can see. Trev Leanne Dave and Tinner seemingly making light work of the tough top section.
Just ahead Howard and John are approaching the 30% section and I can now see the road free of traffic and it’s time to make my move. Just ahead John is fighting the bike and at the steepest ramp and with me just behind him I can see him coming to a standstill. I now have a split second to decide which way to go round him, get it wrong now and I’m off, as he puts a foot down his bike is sideways across the road, I throw the bike to the left and narrowly avoid his back wheel , now I have to grind up to the small shelf and right hand bend which provides precious little respite before the final push to the top. My legs are still ok but now my lungs are burning screaming for oxygen but I can now see the top of the last steep ramp and where last year I had faltered I summon up my last reserves and force the bike onto the gentler gradient near the top. It’s a few moments before the sense of achievement replaces the pain in my body but there’s no time to dwell as the tricky descent is negotiated and a welcome regroup at the bottom.

Success at last, feeling chuffed at the bottom of Hardknott,

Heading off to Dunnerdale for some bonus hills.

This year’s route had omitted the climb of Wrynose but any of the group who thought they had got off lightly where in for a rude awakening as we turned back south at Cockley Beck and descended the upper Duddon Valley to Dunnerdale before a left turn brought us onto the slopes of Stickle Pike( Kiln Bank) where post Hardknott legs where again severely tested by 25% gradients. Then a sweeping descent to Broughton Mills before another hidden gem of a climb of Broughton moors. A welcome coffee at the lakeside at Coniston was enjoyed before the final climb of Hawkshead hill was behind us and the long fast road to Newby Bridge brought us back to our base after 70 miles and 7500 ft of climbing. Special mention to John Butler who battled up every hill and Howard Hirst who added another 50 miles on by riding from Morecambe . Great day out, great company can’t wait for next year.

That, you would think, would be my story told, I’d beaten my Nemesis, achieved my goal, time to bask in the reflective glory of being a member of the Hardknott club, wilfully accept coffee and cake from admiring club mates as you regale them with your story of the day you conquered the pass.
But, still, something nagged in my mind that, fine and noble my effort had been, there was still unfinished business. The Fred Whitton Challenge stands alone in this country as the single hardest one day bike ride. To ride all 112 miles including climbing Hardknott Pass after 100 miles and over 10000ft of ascent already. That would be the ultimate test. That would be “different gravy.
I resisted these thoughts for a couple of years. Then in the winter of 2016/17, the subject of a worthy challenge for the Lune Vets in the summer arose. We had ridden the Etape du dales in 2016as a team effort and the day was deemed a success by all.
2017 was to be 50th birthday so I, perhaps foolishly suggested we should all enter a team in The Fred, surprisingly, or maybe not, this suggestion was not met with the response I had imagined so several of us entered the ballot to win a place, though I do suspect there were a few that would have been happy to be unsuccessful in getting accepted.
The “ lucky “ riders turned out to be Andy Hill, Les Lavercombe, Nick Miller, Nev Pearson and Phil Peake.and Yours Truly. (David Leslie, would later be offered a reserve place.)
We all resolved to begin work on being superfit for May and the long process of getting in the miles through the winter began,
I knew I had to be absolutely at the top of my game if I was to be successful. I knew I could do the ride; I already had that T-Shirt, but if I was to consider myself successful there had to be only one outcome. The full ride without getting off, anything less was failure.
This one thought really spurred me on, in early February, I did a training ride over the Trough, I could feel myself climbing strongly and looked down to see what gear I was on, normally id have it in the 28 in the back and plod away but I was still only in the 22 and pushing myself on, then in the Coal Road I just got stronger as the miles went by riding on the front into a block headwind all the way from Barbondale. I noticed too my weight dropping, I was a good 7lb lighter than normal and it was showing in my riding.
I targeted a training ride over Hardknott in early April. From Lancaster it’s a cool 116 mile round trip, but when you’re prepping for The Fred it’s an ideal distance. I coaxed Les and Tom Palmer into joining me explaining it was quite a long ride in the lakes with a few hills.
I was convinced that I needed a 32 cassette for Hardknott, modern 11 speed set ups allow for this quite easily but I would have to fit a long derailleur to accommodate it, the day before the ride I stumped up over £100 for said parts and set about the “easy job of swapping the parts on my bike, fast forward several hours and with my chain in bits in my hand if resigned myself to my latest Hardknott adventure being ridden on my heavy winter bike.
It was a beautiful April morning as the three of us departed from the Millennium bridge in Lancaster at 7am, though as is often the case on such bright spring mornings , a frost had gathered on the ground and for the first hour the temperature hovered around freezing, breakfast was taken in Broughton and after basking in the sun on Corney Fell attention turned to the main business of the day , heavy though my bike was , it was equipped with the 30×28 gearing I’d used on my previous successful attempt , though as we started to climb from the cattle grid I missed the responsiveness instantly of my light Carbon Cannondale. I went through my usual process of staying in the saddle barely doing enough to get the cranks over the top, keeping my breathing light as possible, I made steady progress to the top section, I knew in my mind I was capable but it still took a pretty big effort to get to the top, but mentally, now I knew I was the boss. Where once I feared, now I mastered. It was still 5-2 to The Pass but for now I was calling the shots.

King of the Hill, at the top of Hardknott, April 17

A footnote to the day, descending Wrynose I had 2 front wheel punctures. on close inspection after the second one it was apparent the rim tape had melted and spoke hole were showing through round the wheel, putting another tube in would quickly result in another blowout , a desperate plan was hatched where after removing a valve from a tube we used it as emergency rim tape to line the wheel . Then the even trickier bit of threading a second tube into the wheel and hope it would stay inflated for the small matter of 45 miles to get us home, thankfully, somehow it worked though it was well after 7 in the evening when sanctuary was reached.

Ready to roll , Les Lavercombe ,Phil Peake .Nick Miller, Myself ,Nev Pearson, early morning in Ambleside on the day of the Fred.

The dry spring continued into early May and as the big day approached the weather looked set to continue as did my good form. Dishing out punishment on the weekly chain gang and taking a few scalps on some hilly weekend rides. As dawn broke on the morning of the Fred we were already unloading bikes from Nevs car and making final preparations in Ambleside’s car park as we had decided to ride to the start at Grasmere in order to beat the queue getting in and out of the sports field. Riding up to the start passed Rydal Water on the most beautiful clear Lakeland day was genuinely uplifting. My spirits where high and I was ready for battle. Once we were on the lower slopes of Kirkstone I quickly realised my climbing legs hadn’t deserted me, though I was conscious to take things really easy, my main objective was still many miles away.
The miles ticked by and the summits of Kirkstone and Honister were ticked off before we regrouped at the feed station in Buttermere. The cold crisp morning had now given way to a beautiful sunny day. We were half way in distance but the real hard work was just beginning.
loLTEEEEEEE

Team Lune at the feed stop in Buttermere.

Immediately after the feed, the road kicks up sharply onto Newlands but again I’m able to set a good tempo up the hills and at the summit I’ve opened up a small gap on our group. I’m joined by Nev Pearson and we ride strongly down the lovely Newlands valley to Braithwaite were at the foot of Whinlatter we are greeted for the first time by hordes of cheering supporters all with cowbells, this was a real spirit lifter and Whinlatter was easily dispatched before we regrouped again at the summit.
As we rode on past Loweswater towards Fangs Brow, Phil and Nev where forcing a decent pace but I decide to knock it back and let them go. I remembered this section had taken a lot out of me on my previous Fred and the long ride over Cold Fell could be quite gruelling in a headwind. Thankfully the weather conditions remained ambient and as I passed through the small villages round Ennerdale there was a cacophony of cowbells to greet me at every junction.
After strong coffee and sandwiches at Calder Bridge we agreed that it was now every man for himself and we would regroup at the finish. Phil set off like a man possessed and after briefly trying to keep with him ( I couldn’t ) I reverted to my energy conservation mode for the ride to Eskdale which includes the short sharp climb of Irton Pike . I knew this would be a good indicator of my state of fatigue. It comes at 90 miles and if your showing signs of weakness it will find you out. I didn’t. In fact I picked off a few decent riders near the top. I felt I had plenty left in the tank for the big test ahead.
Nev must have descended like Nibali as he joined me at the bottom and we began the long ride up the valley to Boot,
I pulled over to take a comfort break and gather my thoughts, I threaded my glasses into my helmet and swung the bike into the road and clipped in.
As I pass the cattle grid and the road really kicks up I’m already in my position ,seated, hands on hoods , grinding slowly, slowly grinding, every corner is etched on my brain , get to that corner , then the next , break it down into moments of suffering . Slowly grinding, grinding slowly. But as much as I’ve mentally rehearsed it you can’t account for the fatigue that’s now setting in, as well as being fit you’ve got to be lucky , I hear heavy breathing to my left as a rider approaches , heavy ,laboured breathing I sense. He pulls level with me but I can sense he’s over geared and he’s at the limit he juggles the bike wildly from side to side attempting to get the cranks over the top one more time. As he lurches left the crank fails to hit the top and his minimal momentum is rudely halted and he crashes backwards down the pass. I manage to keep upright but had he gone over on the other side hed have taken me with him and with it any chance of going clear. I manage to keep going to reach the flat plateau by the fort.

“Don’t be a “Walker “I mutter. “TIME TO COMMIT, TIME TO GO DEEP”.
Moment’s later I’ve reached once again the shelf at the top of the 33% section, from here I know I need to summon up every ounce of physical and mental strength I have left. My head is pounding from the heat and the effort and I’m beginning to get cramps inside my thighs , there’s precious little let up below 25 % but again I break it down into 2 sections in my head and as I reach the 2nd of these I know I can hang on. I have to get out of the saddle for the last few metres just to try and stop the cramps but suddenly the road flattens and I’m aware of a lot of fellow riders showing their appreciation of my efforts as they push their bikes at the side of the road, kudos indeed, but hard earned. I’ve hardly enough time to congratulate myself when I realise that the cramps that I had suffered where just as likely to manifest themselves on the steep finish of Wrynose. Failing at the very final hurdle began to feel even more likely as I rode up from Cockley beck. with cramps shooting up my right leg.
The last 50 metres of Wrynose reaches 30% but riding on one leg I kicked for the summit, victory was mine, my goal achieved. The last few sweeping miles to Grasmere flew by; I rode stronger and faster than I had all day to the finish.
I knew it would be hard and it was, but the feeling of satisfaction made it worth the pain. It had taken 8 years but my business with The Pass was done ,
my battle with Hardknott was won.

On the limit, moments from glory at the Fred 2017.

My main objective when I began writing this article, was mainly to collect together various posts and photos from over the years which get lost on an expanding timeline on social media. But my passion for the subject took over. Hopefully the descriptive I’ve used of riding up the same hill on numerous occasions is enough to maintain the reader’s attention.
Thanks indeed to all the riders who have accompanied me at various times. Special thanks also to Trevor Page and Leanne Thompson for many of the photos and also much inspiration.
Ian Breslin November 2017