What’s the Jennride?

Jenn Hill was a legend amongst mountain bikers. She was a prolific rider, having completed some of the world’s toughest rides. Jenn wrote for Singletrack magazine and was an inspiration to many; she successfully encouraged women to get involved with cycling and was loved by everyone who met her. Tragically, lung cancer was to claim Jenn’s young life in 2015. Rich, the local postie and all-round decent fella from Staveley, began organising Jennrides. These rides keep Jenn’s memory alive whilst also raising money for several excellent charities.

My first Jennride was in summer 2024. I’d always wanted to take part in one of these events but never quite got around to it. As soon as I started to bounce back from chemotherapy, I knew what I needed to do!

Day Zero- Getting to the start line

I’d spent much of Thursday getting the bike prepared, my bags packed and converting the T6 into campervan mode. This allowed me most of Friday to call by Pete’s house to collect his post-ride kit, followed by a leisurely drive up to Staveley. I quickly found the field allocated for our parking, walked back to the Mill Yard, bought a book in Wheelbase, and scored an excellent coffee in More; the “artisan” bakery and coffee shop. I feel a bit bad about this, but I seem to have begun to favour More over Wilf’s. Locals, mountain bikers and walkers will know what I mean!

The weather was becoming colder as I returned to the van. Heater on full blast, the van had just warmed up nicely when Rich popped by for a quick catch-up. The only remaining tasks, were to consume loads of pasta and to get a good night’s sleep.

Day One- 101km, 2476m

I felt excited and nervous in equal amounts; this was going to be a long and hard day, even when compared to my recent rides. Coffee was chugged whilst I consumed a huge bowl of porridge; energy and determination were going to be needed for success today. My bike for this ride would be my Mason Raw; a steel hardtail, welded and painted in Scotland before being built up in my garage 🙂

Pete and I met just before the 9am start. It seemed that most people had set-off sometime before us. I guess that tackling long rides in winter is a balance of sleeping time vs daylight riding time. Good job we had decent lights with us.

The first 20km provided a nice warm-up for the big day ahead. An undulating route took us up past Dubb’s reservoir, down towards Troutbeck, then up over High Skelghyll before leading us down to Ambleside where the cheery Alpkit folk met us with coffee and sugary snacks.

The gradient soon eased off and we whooped like kids as we sped down into Martindale. Of course, this respite was short-lived, the trail once again rising as we crossed Barton Fell. Pete and I were both highly impressed by the father and son team that we met on the Fell. Dad was using a towing system to help his son get up the harder bits. I’m not sure who I was most impressed with: the dad or his 10 year-old son! Briefly following High Street (an old Roman road) we then enjoyed a fun and speedy descent into Pooley Bridge for our overdue food stop.

Waterbottles refilled, we returned to our journey. A long and steady climb took us around the back of Little Mell Fell and up towards the start of the Old Coach Road. I love the Old Coach Road. I’ve travelled along this rough, ancient byway many times; sometimes by motorcycle, usually by mountain or gravel bike. For me, this rough and knackered old road still gives a sense of travelling through amazing and remote terrain (my favourite thing). This evening’s views were very limited as night was beginning to fall, as were the temperatures. There were patches of ice, although they were thin and didn’t present too much of a hazard. The ever-present rocks had different plans for me… on a steep and particularly rough section, my remaining water bottle decide to launch itself in to orbit. It somehow landed a metre infront of me and immediately exploded, showering me in my vital drinking water. Ah well… what’s a bit more dehydration going to do?!

Darkness had surrounded us as we descended towards Thirlmere. The pull from the King’s Head Inn was too much and we succumbed to the welcoming lights and smell of good food. We enjoyed a cracking pint of pale ale whilst we warmed up and caught up on the day’s events. Our much needed food arrived and was demolished in moments. I always enjoy being in this pub; well, most pubs really, although we couldn’t stay too long as we had plenty more ground to cover.

It took us another couple of hours riding through Grasmere and Chapel Stile before we finally arrived at our destination that was to be our home for the night: the National Trust campsite near the Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel. It was at about this time when I had a major dilemma: My bike computer displayed the distance we had covered… 97km. I turned to Pete, “We can’t stop on 97km!”. Pete replied, “I can”. And so, whilst Pete set up his tent, I went back out into the night to cover a few more kms. I returned twenty minutes later… 101kms… that’s much better 🙂

Tents were set up, airbeds inflated, and kettles boiled. Although there was a free pint on offer at the ODG Hotel, I just couldn’t be bothered traipsing over there. I had a quick wash and a brief chat with the father and son team before crawling in to my tent. I tried to get some sleep… No chance! Too much chatter and snoring from the throng of other Jenn Riders nearby!

Day Two- 49km, 1182m

We woke to a cold and grey morning. I was tired after not sleeping too well; I’d been a bit cold during the night and had experienced some painful cramps… no fun in a tiny tent! But at least it was dry and we had another 50km of amazing Lakeland trails to cover. Pete is much quicker at packing his kit up than me; he looked ready-to-go whilst I was still bundling stuff away. Pete kindly agreed to grab me a coffee and pastry whilst I was faffing… thanks Pete, much appreciated 🙂

And so we began riding. The steep and winding pass towards Blea Tarn was a shock to our tired legs. We inched our way past Sunday morning dog-walkers and sheep as we slowly gained height. The steep and tight hairpins gave the opportunity to grab quick glances of the surrounding fells; the “Swashbuckling” Pike o’Blisco dominating the view to our right.

Hawkshead’s “Poppi Red” supplied us with excellent panninis and coffee. I also indulged in a chocolate brownie; probably the richest and biggest chocolate brownie ever… this would soon backfire on me as within ten minutes I experienced a bout of reactive-hypoglycaemia. The trails spinning and going slightly out of focus as I determinedly pedalled through the experience.

By the time we reached the excellent cycle trail to Clappersgate my blood-sugars felt about right again. (I’m sure this is something that’s been caused by the hormone therapy: that’s a question for my next appointment at The Christie). We passed through the ever-busy Ambleside then kept our heads down as we pedalled along the busy main road towards Bowness. Quickly passing through this tourist hotspot, we took a steep road through the local housing estates that led to an even steeper, but enjoyable, track over the lower fells. All that remained was a fun descent on quiet country lanes and a brief time-trial along the A591.

The aftermath

This had been another good challenge for me. I feel that day one had gone brilliantly; yes, my knees protested all day but my cancer-related pains did not bother me. Day two was shorter but more challenging in some ways: that horrible sensation of sitting on a squash ball had returned. This is hard to ignore and it gets me down. I can handle regular saddle discomfort, almost all long-distance cyclists experience this to some degree, but the sensation of sitting on a tumour is a jarring reminder that I have a problem. “Fuck cancer”… I’m not going to let this detract from a brilliant weekend.

By mid-week I feel like I’ve recovered ok. A bit tired maybe, but no more so than usual. The squash ball sensation is still floating around… I just have to stand up more often.

A massive thanks to Rich for organising this event. Also to Pete for teaming up with me, and to my wife for her ongoing support and encouragement. So what’s next? 🙂

A favour to ask…

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Thanks, Andy