Everesting Challenge

The attraction of ‘Everesting’ lies in its simplicity. Pick a hill, any you’d like, and ride up it until you have the accumulative elevation gain of Mt Everest and you can take as long as you’d like. There is just one catch. You can’t sleep.

A completed Everesting, unlike a marathon or most other endurance events, doesn’t ‘get’ you anything. You don’t walk away with a medal, a certificate nor a T-shirt with a sponsor’s logo on that you’ll never wear. You do however, join one of the most exclusive clubs in sport, HELLS 500 and get your name on the Everesting hall of fame. Not much, but something.

I decided to attempt this challenge in Dalby Forest. Located on the southern slopes of the North York Moors National Park, it is a haven for cyclists. Most of whom, are mountain bikers, who flock for the many miles of unadulterated off-road tracks Dalby offers. Hence, the visitors centre, at the base of the climb, is literally designed for any cyclists needs. That is probably the most important reason in choosing this climb. It is also perfect for this challenge as it holds a steady gradient of around 6% for 2.4km, with an elevation gain of 148m. This should be perfect, as it allows for a couple of minutes rest every 20 and doesn’t require any large efforts that steep gradients would.

THE DAY

After just four hours sleep and over an hour’s drive, at 03:34 am the climbing started.

It’s a strange feeling starting a ride at this time, you know that in a few hours the hustle and bustle of Dalby in summer holidays will be all around; but now all alone in the pitch black of the cool summer air it’s a humbling experience.

I knew I started too hard, it was only the first couple of laps, but my heart rate was over zone 3 for both assents. This is the opposite way than you should start an endurance challenge. I think it was due to a mix of both anticipation for the following 20 hours riding and the cacophony of branches snapping, animals calling and two tawny owls ‘twit twoo’-ing that seemed to surround me in the dark depths of the black forestry curtain all around me.

As hours rolled by, I watched the sun rising over the trees, it was 5 hours in until I saw any other people arriving. No cars, no other cyclists, no walkers, nothing. Just me, the bike and the hill.

It was about now I had my second breakfast, I had forced a bowl of porridge down myself just before starting and had been trying to snack on flapjack until now. As I rolled up to the car, I thought ‘it’s not very often that you have done 65km and 2300m of climbing before breakfast’.

It was quarter to eleven when my ‘support team’ arrived. My mum dropped Georgia, my girlfriend, off. By this time, I had completed just shy of 7 hours riding and was still feeling strong, or at least as strong as can be expected after 2,755m elevation gain. Over a quarter of the way through, still feeling strong. All good.

Or not.

2 hours later, I hit the wall. Bonked. How ever you want to describe it, the lights went out. I had not yet got half way, 3,900m.

God, what’s gone wrong? I had eaten enough, trying to have at least one bar or gel or flapjack every hour. I had drunk enough, at least one bottle an hour, up to 3 when the mercury rose. Maybe that was it. The heat, 30 °C is warm but not that hot; especially when most of the climb is in shade and I am normally good in the heat. So, that’s not it. I must not have the legs.

‘I am not going to do this’. The thought crept in.

Just get to 4,000m and reassess.

Slowly, painfully 4,000m arrived, nearly 11 hours riding time and having been up for 14 hours. The wheels had come off. Georgia and I sat there at the top and thought hard about what to do. Being frank, I knew I couldn’t do it. I still wasn’t half way.

We decided to get to 5,000m. Finishing just wasn’t realistic anymore, at the speed I was going I would be finishing around 1 in the morning and I was defiantly slowing up. There was also the concern that if I did want to finish, by that time there would have been no one to take me home. Having been up for over 24 hours and cycling for most of it, I couldn’t drive. I felt like a let-down, not just for myself but those who had come to help me. It was embarrassing, I try to pride myself on finishing the things I start. I didn’t know what to say how to tell everyone.

At the time 5,000m still felt a long way off. Seven more laps. Two and a half more hours.

I can’t really tell you much about those two hours. They seemed to last forever but at the same time, over in seconds. It all got a bit strange. I couldn’t eat, had to force myself to drink as the sun was still beating down.

As I finished the 7 laps needed, I studied my Garmin. I thought my eyes were deceiving me, I had only done 4902m. Really? Dad decided to do the last half a lap with me, we set of down the hill for the penultimate time, genuinely enjoying it for the first time in hours.

It’s a lovely descent. A really quiet road, the top 1.5km newly paved, sweeping down through the forest with no corner sharp enough to make you brake allowing you with no effort to touch 70kph. All over in a moment.

That last climb was torture. We probably only held average pace but with 13 and a half hours riding in the legs, it hurt.

In the end I completed 5,014m elevation gain. Not Everest, nearer base camp.

Maybe next year.

https://www.strava.com/activities/2556741424/analysis