Dave Powell. One of those rare things: An under 40 male in the 3 Peaks. He finally got a fast time this year and seemed to have done it by not preparing. There’s probably some sense in that. But then again, Dave’s idea of not preparing for the 3 Peaks would include his normal massive Thursdays out on a bike and regularly clocking up 5, 6, 7 hr rides. So it’s all relative.
Around me, calf muscles and lungs begin to pop like bombs going off as Simon Fell really kicks in and fights back. As riders seem to succumb to their own onslaught, I duck out of the procession and make my way back towards what I deem to be safety. Like an old friend, the wire fence to the side of the route up the slope, curved and bent by years of hauling hands pulling at it, waits quietly for me. While others try for the fast, direct method, I award myself some assistance and re-assume a position I’ve adopted several times before at this point; on hand pulling on the fence, one holding the bike in position on my shoulder with my feel jabbing into the well established grooves that tell the tale of decades of past races.
Tip: I make the text readable on Dave’s blog by hitting CTRL and “+” a couple of times. He thinks we’re all mice.
