The Bear Bones 200 is not a race. It’s more a challenge where the top prize is a Black Badge awarded for completing the route in less than 24 hours. Sure you can smash it beginning to end and be first back but any kudos earned is the same as taking 23 hours and 59 minutes. This is relevant as this year’s BB200 was perhaps the most personal challenge I’ve ever set myself … 

This years BB200 was an invitational, but having ridden it last year I was on the list and received the invite to enter while lying in a hospital bed, head in a brace, strapped to the bed, amd only able to stare up at the ceiling tiles. The day prior I’d had an over-the-bars moment and broken 6 vertebrae and a rib for good measure. I’ve long since said that I perpetually need an event in the calendar to train for, so it made sense to get something in to recover for. I duly signed up while I was waiting on an MRI scan to better access whether there was any spinal cord damage or whether I needed surgery. Given how bad things could have been I kinda lucked out: I was out of hospital after 5 days with no surgery required. I was to wear a neck brace for the next few weeks and give it 6-8 weeks for the, thankfully stable, fractures to heal.

A day shy of 14 weeks on, having physio’d hard and ridden as best I could in the intervening period I rolled out of Llanbrynmair very much with the intention of just getting round in sub-24 and no hopes nor expectations beyond that. The route had a couple of loops, and the first fork was to a long road climb leading to the first off road section which climbed yet further as the sun broke through the hazy morning cloud.

From this first summit, the route dropped on to forest tracks with a long and fast descent back to a road section. I sped along enjoying the morning sun when things started to look a little too familiar. I suddenly realised I was heading back to the start, and it dawned on me I’d missed a fork in the route getting on for 10km back, and a long climb back at that. Oh well. I rode back up, picking up a couple of other riders who’d made the same mistake.

Back on route, and while I was tip-toeing around a large puddle, Alex splashed straight through it. I rode with him for a short while. He was doing the ‘300’ and had also gone off course, adding what he thought would be 2 hours to his ride time.

Post-accident I’ve really lost my bottle on descents. The route wasn’t that technical but I was thankful it was dry. There were a few sections that had me anxious and looking to scrub any speed I was carrying. The scenery was stunning though, and the weather near perfect. As with last year’s event, Stu had put on a route taking us to places that you’d perhaps not usually ride and they were special.

I passed another couple of riders and felt I was making good progress. Dropping into Machynlleth I saw a bunch of riders stopped and joined them. ‘The café shuts at 3 so be quick’, they said which was a bit of a surprise. In my mind it was barely noon. We were barely 60km in and I’d been riding for getting on 8 hours. I grabbed a steak sandwich then made a pit stop to fill water bottles and carried on riding with the guys I’d met.

We became a bit strung out and I found myself chatting with Mike as we climbed. We caught another rider as we got close to Dolgellau, and descended together all then stopping to grab supplies at the last place we were likely to pass through during daylight or opening hours. We split up and each rode on alone.

Darkness fell as I approached Coed-y-Brenin forest (and so no more photos!) I knew some of these trails and the roads that followed which was reassuring. As the route hit its northerly most point, it turn sharply into a head wind. Not so bad at lower level, but blowing strongly on anything remotely high. This coincided with my front brake starting to rub incessantly: a shh shh shh becoming a tick tick tick that the usual flick of the lever wouldn’t cure. I took shelter behind a salt bin and changed the brake pads which had near totally disintegrated. A couple of riders came by and we chatted as I sorted things out and I rode on with one for a while. He claimed not to be a cyclist but rather a surfer? I pushed on when my gears were more suitable than his singlespeed setup.

Mike caught me back up and we rode together for quite a while, stopping for a late night picnic at one point, but I was flagging, and after a while dropped back. My progress wasn’t helped by the front brake binding again. The pistons were stuck out and the wheel was no longer spinning, turning perhaps three spokes-worth before stopping. With momentum this was bearable, but at slow speeds became really noticeable and I could really feel it in my quads. I was tempted to remove the pads and ride with a back brake only, but the thought of that and unknown descents scared me. I pushed on, but getting slower, and with more and more uphills now being walked, forcing the front wheel to turn.

At half-past midnight I passed a pub in Dinas Mawddwy and luck would have it that there were still people at the bar having a cheeky lock-in. The door was open and I ducked inside asking for a pint of water to refill my bottle. They took pity on me and gave a can of coke too. I said I’ll write them a glowing trip adviser review. Helped by the sugar rush I pushed on again, one forced pedal turn after another, stopping every so often to check where I was on the route. I rarely do this on a ride, but was still considering finding a ‘safe’ road route back so I could do away with the brake. I’d slowed to a crawl, felt myself weaving on the road, and had to rest: I leaned up against a roadside wheelie bin and set a timer for 20 minutes and napped. This did wonders and I wished I’d done it sooner. Relatively speaking, I now powered on, climbing back up to forest tracks and eventually joining the track I’d inadvertently already descended some 18 hours previously. I stopped for a final check that this really was the correct route and dropped down onto the road for the final run in.

I checked back in at 06:12, 22 hours and 56 minutes after leaving. I climbed into the van and fell asleep right away, waking some 4 hours later to take advantage of Stu and Dee’s hospitality with coffee, cereal, coffee, bacon butties, and more coffee. As rehab goes, I’m not sure I’d recommend it and my back is feeling it as I type now, I think mainly from the hike-a-bike, but I’m beyond chuffed that I got round and had a proper good time doing so.

I wish I were better at remembering names as it’s great to meet people out riding stuff like this, and I feel bad at not being able to name check you: Thank you to everyone I spoke to for adding to the event, and to Stu and Dee for putting the event on.