THE FRED WHITTON CHALLENGE
Now how did I get myself into this…
I first became aware of the Fred Whitton Challenge last year when two ladies from our local triathlon club started posting about their weekend hill training rides. Each weekend they would set out in search of steep hills in preparation for the race that they affectionately called “the Fred.”
They were spoilt for choice since right on our doorstep we have what is known as the 7 Cols which includes the hills of Warmington, Sun Rising, Lady Elizabeth, Compton Wynyates, Tysoe, Edgehill and Shotteswell. This is a ride I have done many times, it is 44 miles long and of those climbs, Edgehill averages 8% gradient with a max incline of 13% and Sun Rising averages 10% with a max incline of 16%.
If you are prepared to travel a little further there is the 2.7km climb at Sudeley Hill near Winchcombe. Here you will climb 215m at an average gradient of 8.4% and at its nastiest you’ll be at 18%. Similarly, the 4km climb at Snowshill near Broadway has an elevation gain of 196m. It averages a mere 4.9% but at its steepest section it is a rather punchy 17.7%.
In a word, we live in a hilly area, which led me to believe that hills were my bread and butter. I might have got that wrong…
The Race, The Man, the Story
Renowned as one of the UK’s most demanding cycle races, the Fred is a 112-mile circuit around the Lake District that requires each rider to negotiate a gruelling 10,400ft (3200m) of climbing. It had initially been intended as a one-off memorial ride for Fred Whitton, a local legend who adored cycling in Cumbria and had been a founder member of the Lakes Road Club. However, it was attended by so many people that it became a much-loved annual event which incredibly is now entering its 25th year! Its popularity is such that it now holds a ballot in December. It is through this lottery that I gained one of just 2,500 places for the 2025 race.
The Day before…
Wind the clock forward 20 weeks and I’m heading up to the Lakes with Kate, the weather is great and I’m looking forward to the great unknown. My Father-in-law lives in the States and was keen to show his wife the Lakes so we meet them for lunch on the terrace of the Langdale Chase Hotel. Boasting a stunning view of Windemere I’m straight into thinking, mmm, maybe I’ll have to complete the trilogy of Chillswim end-to-end lake swims next year [I swam Coniston (5.25 miles) in 2024 and Ullswater (7.5 miles) in 2024]. Windemere’s 11-mile length is a beast but when the sun’s out anything is possible right? Anyhow, I snap out of this dream state to head into Grasmere to Register. Everyone’s super friendly. Set up looks fine. Start time on Sunday is between 6am and 8am and it’s entirely at your discretion, you just need to make sure you make the 2 cut-off times on route. I commit to a 7am start.
The Start
I arrived in Grasmere slightly ahead of schedule at 6:15am. As such, once the bike was set up I was on my way at 6:40am. It was a bit chilly at that time of day so I had my arm warmers on and a gilet. Just perfect for the first few miles, a smooth and flat stretch to Ambleside. No one was riding hard, that would be insane at this point. We pass through Waterhead at the head of Lake Windermere, which looks majestic at this time of day. No time to enjoy that though, a sharp left forces everyone to select the lowest gear to take on the very steep Holbeck Lane climb to Troutbeck. Let the games begin…
1. Kirkstone Pass
From Troutbeck (South) we then head towards Kirkstone Pass, the first big climb of the day. The scenery is beautiful but I’m getting hot on the 7km climb. It’s mostly steady at around 6.5% gradient but it spikes at 16% (same as the steepest section of Sun Rising) and we gain 268m. There’s less chat now and we’ve not yet covered 12 miles of the course. This takes us to the highest pass on the route. I have no recollection of the view here as it is straight onto the long and steep descent and I’m heavy on the brakes for much of it. The arm warmers and gilet are now doing their job as it gets cold whistling down these hills before the sun has warmed up the air. Phew, one done (of the 8 major summits) and I’m pleased to note the road flattens as we all speed towards Patterdale and Glenridding.
Glenridding is where I started the Ullswater swim the previous year. It looks serene in the morning light. A few miles along the shores sees us turning left up to Matterdale End. This is not one of the major climbs but it is nevertheless 143m of ascent over 2km with an average gradient of 6.7%, peaking at 10.3%. We are then rewarded with a fast section on the A66 to Keswick. Ok; we were travelling alongside a lot of cars, but the free speed was very welcome. Keswick was busy, as you’d expect on a sunny weekend, so I was glad to pass through on our way south towards Borrowdale. We’re a good 30 miles in now and finding rhythm despite slightly iffy road surfaces. I’ve not yet taken the cold gear off, but the temp is rising and I’ll need to make that call soon. Derwent Water is on my right. My goodness, it is so beautiful up here.
2. Honister Pass
At Seatoller (42 miles in) we start our ascent of Honister Pass. There’s no messing, we’re straight onto the biggest cog as it starts at a spicey 25%. I had nothing to compare it to but it turns out this is not far off the more famous Hardknott. The road is narrow and busy, so you can’t even zig-zag your way up. It’s a sweaty one for sure and for the first time you wonder what you’ve let yourself in for. This is just the 2nd major climb of the day, average gradient 10%, 2km long. And to make matters worse, when you summit there’s no respite whatsoever since the descent starts very steeply, the road surface in places is shocking and the camber is uncomfortable. You pass through a tight section known as “The Gates of Mordor” and then there’s a narrow chicane over a stone bridge that comes up on you very quickly. The “Death” Warning signs up that top made me laugh but you could easily write yourself off coming down here. They say it catches a lot of people out and true to word I saw a few fallers. For the first time in my life I could actually smell my brake pads burning. Brutal. But I was down and things were looking up.
The Buttermere valley is delightful after so much trauma and the rolling road was fun. I decided to stop briefly at the first feed station since we were approaching the halfway point, I could use a stretch (and a toilet stop) and it was a good chance to top up the water bottles. It was pandemonium, lots of excited cyclists in a pretty tight spot, so I didn’t hang around long and was rather glad to be back on the road. It was a good decision since shortly after leaving I was back on the steep stuff…
3. Newlands Pass
For the most part the 2.5km climb (for a 333m gain) is steady. Newlands offers an average gradient of 7% but there’s a very steep final stretch where the gradient hits 25%. Ouch. You can see the road stretching out ahead and it again reminds me of Lord of the Rings. A controlled effort sees me over the summit and onto the long descent of the Newlands Valley. This is cycling at its best, fast, exhilarating, good to be alive stuff. You can’t afford to take your eye off the road for a second. 2 unexpected switchbacks test your mettle. You’ve got to stay sharp to stay alive
After the excitement of the Newlands descent we edge back up to Braithwaite, at which point we have covered 55 miles. This is one of the two cut-offs on the route. If you don’t make it through here by 11:30am they send you back to Grasmere via the shorter Lion and Lamb route. It was 10:10am so I was nicely up on the schedule. I could see from the route sticker fixed to my top tube that I would soon be staring down the barrel of climb number 4, the pine covered uplands of Whinlatter Pass.
4. Whinlatter Pass
The organisers recommend this part of the course for spectators as the road is decent and there is a café for them to wait in. True to form, it was busy, with animated supporters on both sides of the road ringing cow bells and having a lot of fun. I’d told my crew to meet me at the end but the crowd was generous towards everyone coming up the 5km climb. At just 5%, the average gradient wasn’t too bad, but a few false summits and a short section of 15% meant there was still work to do. By now it was getting warmer and I had ditched the gilet, opting to keep the arm warmers on because the speedy descents were still creating quite a chill factor. The descent from Whinlatter was fairly straight and could be taken at speed, although as a first timer you constantly cover the breaks not knowing quite what the course will throw at you next.
From here there is a relatively long section taking in High Lorton, Loweswater and Lamplugh. I can now see that we passed through a place named Fangs Brow but sadly I have no recollection of it! At mile 70 we hit a water station and with temperatures rising the timing was perfect. My two bottles were filled from water straight out of a large watering can. Who would have thought? The team here was brilliant, loud music, people in fancy dress, a much needed boost to morale.
As a rookie I had no idea what was coming next, I just knew that at mile 80 there was a second feed station. Between me and that oasis was a long exposed section that seemed interminable; welcome to Cold Fell
5. Cold Fell
So far the journey has been nothing short of spectacular. Bold mountains, panoramic views, sweeping valleys, vast expanses of water, quaint villages, a total sensory overload. Not so on the steady and dare I say it monotonous climb up to Cold Fell. 5km at 5% gradient is ok, although the short 21% section was not so ok. It is perhaps not surprising that at this moment the morale nosedived and for the first time I felt some fatigue creeping in. The summit was a welcome relief and the descent down to Calder Bridge was uplifting. Pretty certain it was on this stretch that I spotted the sea, which always lifts the spirits!
A Tactical Error
I made a mistake by not stopping at the second feed station located in Calder Bridge Village Hall. I was comfortable on the bike and didn’t need a loo stop so I decided to press on. However, the fatigue I had felt on the Cold Fell climb was without doubt the onset of muscle fatigue as a result of not taking on board enough energy. I was drinking water only by this stage and fully dependent on gels and chews for my supply of carbs. After 5.5 hours of non-stop cycling my rate of consuming these sugary products had slowed to a point where I would have massively benefitted from eating something solid, like a flapjack, some cake, a sandwich or just a plain old banana.
One mile down the road from the Feed station was Checkpoint 2 and since I was passing through it 2 hours before the cut off I was now definitely heading for home. Not only that but I was also closing in on the beast of all climbs, Hardknott Pass.
The road to Gosforth was busy and the pace picked up a bit, probably because many riders had replenished energy stores and stretched muscles at Calder Bridge. The going feels easy. A few short but steep inclines are followed by the usual twisting descents. The road flattens and narrows, stone walls on either side, it’s rural and peaceful but we know Hardknott is coming as we head down the valley, everyone steeling for the assault of mind and body…
6. Hardknott Pass
It kicks off without warning. Over a cattle grid and the first section is ultra steep, at least 30%. The majority of riders are off at this point, including myself. The effort required was just too much knowing it is 2.2km of climbing, with an average gradient of 14% and a whopping 1 in 3 (33%) maximum gradient further up the hill. I hop back on after 200m but even here it is 14% and the sun is now beating down hard. A second 30% + section and I’m off again. Back-to-back hairpins are impossibly steep and walking with cleats on the shoes is also super challenging. It relents a little after a hundred metres or so and I determine that enough is enough and vow to stay in the saddle until the top. Anyone who has stayed on until this point is a seriously strong rider. While the worst is now over, I’m having to dig very deep indeed to keep the wheels moving forward. It’s hot, there’s no wind on this side of the pass and we’re nearly 95 miles into the ride. Riders were hitting the deck, many were stood catching their breath at the side of the road. It’s a hell hole if I’m being honest.
I sang a hallelujah chorus on reaching the summit. Immediately a breeze picks up and cools you down. Such bliss. But the relief is short lived. What now comes is a fiercely steep descent with savage switchbacks and rotten road surfaces. If you lose control of your speed here they’ll be calling you an ambulance. Some riders were literally walking their bikes down; it really is that steep.
Hardknott Pass: caught walking at one of the super steep sections!
Hardknott Pass: back in the saddle but still work to do:
7. Wrynose Pass
By the time I reached the bottom I think I was just grateful to be in one piece. I was also pretty dehydrated with very little left in the bottles. In hindsight my entire ride was now saved by a kind lady handing out bottles of water at the bottom of Hardknotts. It instantly perked me up as I sped along the valley towards Wrynose pass, the penultimate challenge of the day. There would be no more walking for me and the 2km climb at an average gradient of 10% was a walk in the park compared to the previous climb. There was a short but very steep final kick to the top (which I’m told is 25%) but the end was now firmly in sight and the tail was wagging.
Another long, steep and winding descent follows and once again you cannot afford to lose concentration. Tight turns and poor road surfaces require skill and confidence, but by now you are tired mentally and physically. It’s tough out there!
8. Blea Tarn
And so the final trilogy of climbs comes to an end with Blea Tarn. Once down from Wrynose the road flattens out and at 99 miles you make a sharp left to start the final ascent of the day. Just 1 mile long and averaging 6%, it feels very manageable, even at this late stage of the day. I have subsequently read it packs a 25% section but by this time my sensitivity to “steepness” was well and truly shot. The cattle grid on a slight right turn at the bottom was a bit nasty. The presence of so many marshals suggests it is dangerous, but I squared up the wheels and got across without issue.
Blea Tarn: last of the big hills and the smile says it all…
To the Finish
At this point I was struggling to believe there was no more climbing, but that was in fact the case. We literally swept along the Langdale valley and all sense of tiredness dissipated with less than 10 miles to go. Now all I could think about was finishing in under 8 hours. I was pushing hard into Ambleside and firmly believed I could do it as the legs now felt great. However, when I made the turn onto the Ambleside-Grasmere road I still had 2 miles to run and the Garmin was showing 7h 58 mins. A sub 8 was not quite on the cards
Mission Accomplished!
This event is about way more than finish times. It’s a totally unique and wonderful experience in an area of natural outstanding beauty. My 8:04:58 placed me 541/2105 and I of course said “never again,” but it only took me 24 hours to make a full U-turn and I have already popped a reminder in the calendar for December 2025 to get my name into the ballot for next year.
What an epic experience. “A good effort” as Fred Whitton was known to say.
I strongly urge you to give it a go. Life will never be the same again!
