Devon Grit Gold

Just over a year ago, I wrote a blog post entitled Bike Everywhere! where I explained that, after giving up our second car and purchasing an e-bike, I discovered the joy of commuting by bicycle. At that point, I’d put in a fair few miles on the bike, using it to go to work everyday, and occasionally to run errands. I would not at that point however, have described myself as a cyclist. But, as it turns out, commuting by bike was something of a gateway drug.

Little did I know back before I took the plunge, there’s a lot of maintenance that goes into owning a bike, at least there is when you are doing in excess of 4,000 miles annually through all weather and road conditions. I’m fairly handy, and a bit of a cheapskate, so when it came to carrying out essential repairs and maintenance, I have over the past couple of years opted to do it myself. (Often resulting in immense frustration, a fair bit of swearing, but usually, ultimate success.)

The thing is, two years ago, I knew absolutely nothing about maintaining a bike. I didn’t know that your chain stretches over time and needs to be replaced after a certain amount of mileage, nor that if you don’t replace it in time, it’ll wear your rear cassette. I had no idea how long brake pads lasted, nor did I have much of a clue as to how to change them. Nor, as you’ll discover shortly, did it occur to me that you could wear out the bearings in your wheel hubs.

So, what did I do? I turned to the greatest library of knowledge and wisdom that exists in this modern age: YouTube! You can literally learn anything from it, and for figuring out how to maintain your bike, it is a godsend.

I watched a good number of how-to videos, and pretty quick, the algorithm took notice. I started getting recommendations for cycling videos, some to do with maintenance, others more to do with the sport itself. The ones that caught my attention were cycling adventure videos; people going out on epic long rides, crossing countries, bikepacking the NC 500, entering 200 km long gravel races in Iceland. I’ve always been drawn to adventure and the great outdoors, but for whatever reason, I’d never previously associated it with cycling.

Now, I know better; now I realise that a bike is the ultimate expression of adventure. With the right bike, you can go anywhere, and you are able to travel much farther much quicker than you can on foot. Watching these videos, I was quickly hooked and hungry for an adventure of my own.

At the start of 2022, I went out for my first foray into cycling the sport, going out on my bike for the first time without an intended purpose or destination, doing a thirty-mile loop of my local corner of East Devon. A few weeks later, I made the forty-mile round trip to Dawlish and back along the Exe Estuary Trail. But this all seemed somewhat tame. I wanted a bit of off road chucked in; a bit of gravel.

A little bit of Googling in search of local gravel routes in my area led me to discover an event by the name of Devon Grit. Billed as a gravel sportive, it comprises of several routes of varying distance taking place on August bank holiday Sunday. It had only been running two years, first taking place back in the height of the pandemic. It looked right up my street, and best of all, it took place right on my doorstep, with a section of the route passing within half a mile of my house!

The thing is, I had no off-road experience. I’ve not really ever done any mountain biking; but I figured, I just had to make the jump, and so I decided that I was going to enter! I tested the water quite early on, venturing out onto Woodbury Common in February, only to quickly realise that in the muddy waterlogged state it was in, my semi-slick gravel tyres simply weren’t going to cut it. So, I returned home with my tail between my legs, wet and muddy, having, perhaps a little too ambitiously, tried to ride straight through a puddle of deep mud, sliding to a stop and going over straight into it.

I didn’t head back up there until things had dried out come summer; and boy, had things dried out!

In the midst of all of this, I had been training for the Lundy Island half marathon, and if you’ve read my previous post, you’ll know that I somehow manage to come second and take home the (figurative) silver medal. My training consisted of a lot of trail running on Woodbury Common, and so, I took the opportunity to scope out a lot of the Devon Grit route on foot.

Familiar with the area and terrain I was going to be riding, I braved heading back out onto the Common on my bike, this time to much greater success. It was hard going at first; there are a lot of steep climbs on some pretty loose material, and a good number of the descents venture firmly into mountain bike territory (the far more extreme version of gravel cycling.)

But, sure enough, with practise, I grow in confidence, learn a thing or two, and steadily get better. Lundy comes and goes, and suddenly, I realise that Devon Grit is only just over a month away. I’ve still not entered; mostly, because I’ve not decided which event I want to do. There are five in total, with the longest, the Devon Grit Extreme, clocking in at 100km. I decide to go one down, (given that I’ve never actually cycled 100km before and that doing it off road is probably not the place to start) opting for the Devon Grit Full event that covers 75km, following mostly the same route as the Extreme, minus a loop up to Ottery St Mary and across the East Hill Strips.

I start training in earnest, venturing out onto the Common on a weekly basis to ride. Some of the route is quite technical, and so, I decide to make sure I’ve ridden every section of it ahead of time to know what to expect come race day, and to ensure everything is at least within my capabilities. And so, after about of month and a half of training, I know the route well enough to be sure that I can at least make it round in one piece.

I came off my bike a few times, one incident being quite a spectacular crash a week before the event, but miraculously, I for the most part avoided injury, and grew wise on areas to be cautious. I did nearly break a toe with one week to go, the whole digit turning black and blue, but given that I did it stubbing it against the bed and not whilst on my bike, I’m not really sure I garnered any helpful knowledge from that!

Now, many of you might realise that I was entering the event with an e-bike. So, I should quickly explain that my bike allows you to remove the battery and motor and insert an empty aluminium tube in its place, which I quickly discovered is conveniently dimensioned to allow you to carry beer cans in it! So, I had no unfair advantage from electronic assistance. If anything, I had quite a disadvantage given that your typical gravel bike weighs in at about 9kg. Sans battery and motor, my Boardman still comes out at a hefty 13kg.

My next disadvantage came from the fact that I realised with about a fortnight to go, that my rear wheel was in dire need of a service, the bearings worn to bits. This being a repair I wasn’t keen to perform myself, I opted instead to get my local bike store to do it for me, but needing the bike to commute on, I wasn’t able to get it done before the event.

So, race day comes around (it’s not technically a race, but it’s timed, so... it is really!) I’ve stripped down my bike, taking off the pannier rack, and changed my tyres to some nobbily ones that’ll hopefully give me a bit more traction. I’ve done a bit of research into fuelling and nutrition so that I don’t ‘bonk’ and run out of energy like I had done on a couple of training rides.

It’s an early start. I get up at 6:10, force down my breakfast, and cycle over to Bicton College, putting 3 miles on the clock before the race has even begun. I register, get my number, #99, and buy a coffee whilst I wait anxiously for the race to begin, enviously eyeing everyone else’s bikes!

The imposter syndrome sets in; this is after all my first cycling event, and I’ve turned up on an e-bike that I’ve converted to a regular one. I know I’m fairly fit given my performance in Lundy, but having never cycled competitively, I have no idea how I rank when it comes to riding.

The intro talk is given, and we are instructed to gather around the start line. The race is self-navigated i.e. there is no signage along the route, you have to use the GPX route on either your phone or your bike computer to find your way around. We each have a timing chip that records when you cross the start and the finish line to determine how you do, and as such, everyone doesn’t start all at once, but instead we are set off in groups of about five or so.

There are about 250 riders in total, about fifty of which are doing the Full race I have entered. Figuring that I’d rather start earlier than wait around nervously for a few more minutes, I position myself relatively near the front of the pack, setting off in about the sixth group.

The only direction we were actually given about the route was how to get out of Bicton College. Left, then left again, then pretty much straight on until you left the grounds. I cross the start line, figuring I’d take it easy to begin with as I know I have a tendency to set off too quick when it comes to running. I let the others in my group take the lead until turn two where I see them all go right instead of left? Aside from the fact that three directions are pretty easy to remember, I can also see that they’ve gone wrong on my head unit, and so, leaving them to presumably take an extended tour of Bicton, I head the right way, by which I mean LEFT, and exit the college campus.

I hit the road, and quite quickly I’ve caught up to some people from the group ahead. Rounding a bend, we begin the first climb and I start to overtake. Then, we hit the first off road section; it starts out with quite a steep climb on some pretty loose material. I know from experience that it’s not the easiest section, and so I power up it, gaining a few more places as we head into the first descent.

Quite quickly, what I had predicted turned out to be exactly the case. I knew I was fit, so I figured I’d probably do quite well on the climbs, but I also knew I was a. new to off-road cycling / mountain biking, and b. a coward. So, as you can imagine, I wasn’t, and still am not, super confident at descending, especially when the going gets rough. So predictably, on the descent, people start overtaking me back. A woman asks if I’m alright as she passes me, and I explain that I’m just terrible at descending.

Anyway, the route heads south towards my house, looping around my own stomping ground. We get to Dalditch and I save a group of people ahead of me from taking a wrong turn up to Inner Ting Tong, directing them up Dalditch Farm Road. One of the people in this group is the woman who’d checked on me during my very shaky bambi-esqe descent. Let’s call her Sharn… because, well that was her name.

We hit the next climb; it’s another steep and loose one. I give the riders around me warning of what to expect. Sharn, wondering how I seem to know the course so well, asks if I’d done the race before. I explain that I merely live less than a mile away from where we are now.

I gain back a lot of places as we work our way up onto Woodbury Common. I have a few people remark that I seem to be a pretty strong climber, one guy telling me that he is just a roadie (a road cyclists for those of you who don’t know) and that, like me, off-roading and gravel is all new to him. I explain to him that I’m not even a roadie; I’m a commuter. “Well, you must get to work on time then!” he laughs as I start to pull away.

After a very gnarly technical descent across what can only be described as a staircase made entirely of tree roots, bordered on one side by barbed wire, we reach road again, this time for a long smooth descent into Lympstone. Now descending on road, that is something I can do, so I actually start to reel in a few more people in front of me.

We get to Lympstone and turn onto a section of the Exe Estuary Cycleway. Its flat, and (relatively) smooth, with incredibly views. I take the opportunity to put the hammer down, cruising along with a couple people tucking themselves in behind for a decent draft.

It is at this stage where my rear hub (the one in dire need of servicing) starts to rear its ugly head, rattling with a cringe inducing crunching noise. Knowing there’s nothing I can do about it now, ten miles in to the forty-five-mile route, I can only laugh.

We come off the cycle path at Exton, following a series of back roads and some awesome gravel tracks around to the back of Woodbury. At this stage, I realise I’ve been leading a peloton for the last few miles. It would have been nice to have known that a bit earlier, then I could have sat somewhere in the pack and saved a bit of energy drafting. But by that point, we are back on another ascent and the group stretches out.

It's a long climb back up to the common, and I once again start reeling people in. Eventually we hit the final section of the ascent, a loose narrow grassy track. Bunched up behind someone who is going too slow for me to comfortably ride behind, I’m forced to overtake via the ditch on the side; it proves a mistake. My wheel spins out and I have to unclip from the pedals. Knowing there isn’t any chance I’m going to get going again on a slope this steep and loose, I run up the final section and get back on my bike.

At this stage, we’re about an hour in, and I realise I’ve not eaten anything. Knowing if I didn’t take some food on soon that I’d pay for it later on, I attempt to scoff one of my peanut butter banana wraps whilst on the bike. It turns out not to be a particularly pleasant snack, and trying to eat it whilst on a bumpy descent just results in me having to slow to a crawl. A lot of people have flown past me now after both me having to dismount and unsuccessfully trying to stuff my face with food I didn’t really want to eat.

A mile or two later, I actually arrive at an aid station. They have gels, something I was too cheap to buy for myself, and so grabbing a couple, I chug one straight away and pocket another for later, barely stopping for more than a minute before I plough on ahead.

I soon get to one of the bumpiest and loosest descents of the entire course. I give it my all, following the lines of a couple of mountain bikers with full suspension ahead of me, and somehow 1 to keep up, I then overtake them as things level out. I pass a few people stopped along the way; turns out one of the guys had taken quite a big crash, but he was alright, even if his bike wasn’t.

I continued down until I hit the Hawkerland Cross, spotting a few riders who aren’t quite sure which way to go. I call ahead to them, telling them which way it is, and Sharn, who is with them, remarks that I arrived just in time.

This group is one that I end up spending much of the rest of the race with. We cross Aylesbeare common and descend into Tipton St John. I get talking with my group to find out they are all doing the Extreme 100km version of the event. Turns out, at this point they should have gone a different way to me; I knew the courses split somewhere, but I couldn’t remember exactly where, but someone in their group misread the route on their bike computer and so they all ended up following me towards Firebeacon Hill.

I give everyone fair warning that we are about to hit a beast of a climb, and sure enough, it is pretty tough going. After a couple of wrong turns from those at the head of the group, I end up back in front as we descend Core Hill into Sidford before beginning the climb up Peak Hill.

Hitting a section of narrow rutted single track lined with nettles and covered in big chunks of flint, we’re forced to hike-a-bike for a short distance, finally completing the rest of the climb up to Mutters Moor.

Nearing the top, I figure I’m not going to wait up for those behind, and I decide to push on. I open up a gap, arriving at the final aid station at the bottom of Peak Hill, catching up a group of riders I hadn’t seen for some time. I stop, grab a flapjack and a few gels, and refill my water bottle.

Then, as everyone else is setting off, I hop back on the bike, not wanting to be left behind, and begin a rapid descent towards Otterton. This is a section of road I’ve ridden dozens of times; I open up a gap, only to get stuck behind a slow-moving car; unsurprisingly, everyone catches me up again.

Then, I look down to realise I only went and left my water bottle back at the last aid station, several miles behind me now. I know there’s still about eight miles left. It’s quite a warm day, and I have no water to see me through to the end.

We climb out of Otterton and hit the cycle path that runs parallel to the Otter, finally arriving in Budleigh. At this stage, I’m just in a group of three. We hit a bit of rutted single track where I’d gone over the handlebars a few weeks earlier, but this time, since they’ve trimmed back the nettles, I manage to stay on my bike.

Emerging out onto the main road, I open the tanks and storm ahead of the two guys left in my group. Through Coloton Raleigh and Doton I am completely on my own, and as I hit a technical section as I cut back towards Hawkerland, I figure I might be in trouble.

I’m getting steadily thirstier, probably verging into dehydration, and I’m low on energy. I don’t have any gels left, and my legs are getting pretty tired. There’s still five miles left to go, and I realise that if I were to make a mistake and come off in a big crash, now would be the time.

I reach the Hawkerland Cross again and climb back onto Woodbury Common. The final section is a technical mountain bike trail, but the time I’ve spent following other people, Sharn in particular, on tricky descents, has helped me grow in confidence.

Reaching the last mile with Bicton closing in, I realise my saddle has completely shaken loose and is rocking about like a seesaw on my seatpost. I enter Bicton, following the route to the end, putting in a final effort, cross the line and pull off a really cool skid. Yeah! 😎

My super badass skid is applauded by some of the people who have already finished, and I am awarded with a T-shirt, and (thank heavens) a new water bottle. Swiftly filling up my new bidon and chugging a litre of water, I start enquiring as to who has finished which event. I find out a couple people from the 70km Full race have already crossed the line, but given that people set off at different times, I know that I won’t really find out how I did until the times are put up on the website later on that day.

I scoff a couple Mars bars, and drink some more water, sitting on the grass as many of the people I’d spent sections of the race with start crossing the line, (a lot of them riders from the Extreme 100km race that took that wrong turn back in Tipton and ended up doing the short version of the event that I was entered into.)

Bidding them all a farewell, I fix my saddle and set off home, riding a final three miles on a crunchy back wheel. On route home, I see plenty of people riding the opposite direction as they are headed for the finish, and even have to warn a pair of guys off who started following me!

Eventually, I get home, shower and crash. Later on, the photos and times are uploaded to the site and, lo and behold! I’ve finished first in my race!

Obviously pleased with myself, I realise I should probably start taking this whole cycling malaki a bit more seriously. Unfortunately, being strapped for cash, I can’t exactly go out and buy a carbon race bike to sit alongside my daily commuter.

My e-bike unfortunately isn’t quite up to the punishment the Common dishes out. The motor housing nearly came loose during the ride, and it’s just a bit too heavy and cumbersome for the riding I want to do on it. Oh yeah, and when I finally got my rear hub serviced, turns out it was so badly worn that in the end I needed and entirely new wheel!

Fortunately, two and a half years of cycling means that I now have a set of thunder thighs, and I don’t really need an electric motor in my bike, even when it’s loaded to the nines with panniers.

So, the time has come. I’ve decided to sell the e-bike, swapping it out for an old-fashioned push bike whose only means of propulsion is me, the rider.

Unlike Lundy, I loved every moment of Devon Grit, and will absolutely be doing the Extreme version next year, probably along with a few other events if I get my act together. I seem to have some ability on a bike, and so it only makes sense if I pursue it. Afterall, coming away with gold in your first ever event has to count for something, right?