As is now tradition, February was once again the month for many cyclists to venture south to the warmer climate of Majorca for some valuable training. This year was the first time I’d been to Majorca myself with a gang of cyclists and I wasn’t too sure of what to expect.

 

Fortunately of the 34 that went, I was travelling with some familiar faces from the club such as Amanda and Neil Dean, Matthew Johnson and his Mum and Dad, Malcolm and Diane, Richard Dean (my roommate for the week), Simon Pickering and his young son Finlay and Steve Coates. So I needn’t of worried about being short for company, and anyway all of the people that I didn’t know were all friendly and easy to talk to.

 

Take a look at the magnificence of Majorca via Flickr

 

Day 1

We arrived at our hotel, which was just outside of Palma, on the Saturday, so our first day of cycling was to be the Sunday. The route was devised by the trips organiser Tom McDonald the previous night and it was to include a 75 mile ride out of Palma, into the mountains and then hugging the coast before descending back into Palma.

 

After a superb buffet breakfast, we all gathered at the front of the hotel for a group photo under beautiful sunny skies. It was also very warm which made it easy to forget it was February. We all set off on mass for the first 20 miles at a steady pace before we split up. One group was to tackle the slightly tougher of the routes to Valldemossa with the other group heading up to Esporles for us to regroup once we hit the coast. My group was the one which headed up to Valldemossa up a climb of about 5km at a relatively easy gradient of about 5-6%. Once we hit the climb it was former We Love Mountains rider Alessandro Williams who attacked and was going up at a fair lick. I wasn’t too far behind but I was cautious of doing too much too early with what was to follow for the rest of the week. However, any kind of rational thinking kind of got thrown out of the window and I slowly started to up my pace and reel him in just before the summit. I wasn’t keen on letting a We Love Mountains Rider beat a Hull Thursday rider to the top and I was thinking of what Rich Guymer said to me a few weeks ago, ‘Thursday Riders aren’t born to follow’ although I think he meant in races and not in a non competitive training ride.

 

Anyway after that brief bit of ‘racing’ we regrouped and started to head to the coast. The weather had started to turn at this point and thick cloud was starting to engulf us. It meant that we had to be cautious on the descent where we encountered our first set of hairpin bends for the week. It takes me a while to get used to descending down switchbacks as there aren’t really any here in our part of Yorkshire, so there were a few corners which led to some rather unconventional lines from myself. Fortunately I stayed upright and not long after we passed a group of 6-8 riders who happened to be from the Garmin Team who where also out training for the week. Young Finlay, who’s only 11, also showed what he was capable of when he caught them up by escaping from our other group and managed to ride alongside David Millar, who was kind enough to give him his bottle. I’m sure in ten years Finlay will be the one handing out the bottles to the younger riders.

 

Once alongside the coast, the road became very up and down but unlike here, where the term rolling means a climb of a few hundred metres, in Majorca it meant we were climbing short cols of about 4-5 kilometres. All this made eating essential and I think this is where Matthew Johnson got caught out. Matt was starting to struggle and with not knowing how far away the café stop was it was becoming perhaps a struggle more mentally than physically. We coaxed him as far as we could, but on knowing there was our other group behind, we decided to press on and meet him back at the café. Once we got to the café at the town of Andratx (often referred to as Anthrax) we regrouped and Matt was only about ten minutes behind. Although a nice village the café perhaps wasn’t the best and using Rich Dean’s café rating, it was a steady 3/10, although I was that hungry I wouldn’t have been that bothered if I was dining at the local sewage plant.

 

After our refreshments and a short but tough climb out of Andratx, we descended back into Palma or rather Palmanova which runs into the main city. On the descent though we encountered a half tarmacked road which caused three of us to get punctures. On past form it was obvious that one of those three would include me, but unlike in previous weeks I wasn’t too bothered fixing a puncture under the warm sun.

 

After that debacle, we headed back onto the seafront, past the marina and the cathedral back to the hotel. It wasn’t the best of cycle lanes as it was very narrow and twisty and there was a lot of people who didn’t seem to know what a bike lane was, as we spent a lot of the time having to dodge past them. So this killed the speed a bit which meant we covered about 75 miles at an average of 16mph by the time we got back to the hotel.

Day 2

Day 2 was to be another tough route, in fact tougher and longer than the previous day with a venture into the proper mountains which included the Coll De Soller and the high point of the island, the Puig de Major. My legs weren’t too bad but they still felt like they had done a few miles the previous day, so I was a little apprehensive of the what the day had to offer. The group of 34 had become much smaller, with people doing their own thing. We had a few of the triathlete guys coming with us along for part of the day along with Neil and Mandy Dean, Matthew Johnson, Rich Dean and Steve Coates.

 

After a steady ride up to the town of Bunyola, where a couple of lads turned off and opted to do a shorter route, we hit the first climb of the day. Myself and Neil where the leading riders up the climb from our group, however we were firmly fixed on the back of one of the many teams that where there training. They were roughly at our level which meant we could draft up to the top at a speed of around 11-12 mph. The climb was perfect for training on as it wasn’t too steep but long enough to get some intensity stuff covered. Once at the top we waited for a few minutes before the rest came up in their ones and twos. At this point we decided to have two separate routes with the longer route comprising a route over the Puig de Major with another route going other a slightly easier and shorter route through the village of Deia. I planned to do the harder of the routes with Neil and Rich, while Steve Coates went one further by adding in a 5 mile run up a mountain before coming back on the longer route once he’d done his run.

 

So after a swift descent down the many switchbacks into Soller, we started the climb up the Puig. At this point I was becoming impressed with how well Neil was climbing. Whilst the Coll de Soller wasn’t the toughest it was still a mountain and he was more than a match for me despite carrying almost 20 kilos more than myself. So I set off up the climb at a pretty brisk pace and before long I was on my own. I’d seen that the summit of the Puig was 1440 metres, although the actual road peaked much lower at 885. So unknown to me I’d aimed at the 1440 metres through my Garmin thinking I’d be there in an hour or so. However the metres didn’t count up on my Garmin as fast as I’d have liked and I was starting to feel the road get steeper and steeper. In reality though the gradient was pretty consistent as the road wasn’t getting much above 6%. What this meant was my legs were shutting down and I was now hopelessly crawling up in my lowest gear thinking I still had miles to go. The next thing I hear is a man puffing and panting behind me.

 

Lo and behold it was Neil catching me back up. ‘Surely not I thought, he’s 20 kilos heavier than me and is in his 50’s and is catching me on my terrain’ however no matter what spin I put on it I couldn’t go faster and Neil had shown that experience can count for much more than just physical ability by timing his effort so much better. ‘I’m cooked’ I said to Neil as he went passed. ‘Don’t worry you’re nearly at the top’ he added. ‘The top’ I thought, ‘I should be nowhere near. I’m nearly 600 metres below where I should be’ yet round the corner was the tunnel indicating we had reached the summit. It was only here where Neil explained that the peak for the road was 885 metres and that I had missed the sign at the bottom, as there are with most climbs in Majorca, indicating how far the climb was.

 

We waited at the top for Richard who wasn’t too far behind but in the interim period a team car following another team from the midlands pulled up and very kindly gave us some food and water which was most welcome. Neil also took a photo of me but I was so tired I could barely smile.

 

After regrouping, we carried on but we didn’t have much of a descent before we were climbing yet again. Neil was on great form and it was becoming a struggle to latch onto his back wheel up the inclines. Again, in a situation similar to what Matt had experienced the day before, not knowing whereabouts I was meant it was a case of mind over body by trying to reassure myself that we weren’t that far away from the café stop and I didn’t need to panic and bonk irreversibly. However when we came to the café it was shut. Fortunately the next 5 miles were all down hill and this gave me a chance to recover and reassess our planned stop. I think Neil was all for heading straight home but me and Rich were keen on finding somewhere to eat which we eventually did at the town of Binnissalem which was about 30 miles from home. The café was much nicer than the previous day and very good value for money, all of which led Rich to rate it as a 8/10.

 

For the rest of the ride it was a case of following Neil home. Not only is he very good at setting a constant pace for mile on mile but he’s also good at navigating his way around which meant we didn’t get lost. By the time we got back to the hotel we’d averaged 16.2mph for 85 miles and climbed 1787 metres. To say I was tired would be the understatement of the year and this was only day 2!

Day 3

Day 3 was said to be a rest day. From what Neil and Mandy had said, having a rest day on the 3rd day made all the difference to how they felt for the rest of the week when they came the previous year. So that was what we decided to do by having a steady 30 mile ride out and back to the monastery at Randa which included a 5 mile climb.

 

Once again the weather was nice, although a little cloudy up on the higher peaks. There was just the four of us on our ride with Rich deciding to go with another group and cover the same 85 miles we had done the previous day. This left myself, Neil and Mandy and Matt for our ride. The wind though was a factor with a stiff North Easterly wind. This meant the ride up to the start of the climb was very tough and was not ideal for a steady day of riding. Once we hit the climb the cloud had started to engulf us once again and Neil had decided to take it easy leaving just myself and Matt at the front once the climb began. Although it was a rest day, I felt it was chance for redemption from yesterday’s climbs and to prove to myself that my climbing legs hadn’t deserted me just yet. Eventually I was on my own, but I had no idea where I was going as the cloud was so dense. I nearly collided with a bus on a hairpin at one point as I only saw it once it was about 20 metres in front of me. Once I got to the top however, all I found was a car park and the bottom of a large aerial which couldn’t be identified in full due to the cloud. ‘Well this isn’t very fancy’ I thought. Yet once the others came they showed me that about 50 metres into the cloud was in fact the monastery, which on a clear day would have been a joy to see. As it was the cloud was so thick you could only see little bits of it even when we got inside the courtyard.

 

After a brief stop at the café we headed back down the hill. I was a little nervous as Mandy had said that some of the roads in Majorca contain bits of marble, which when wet are lethal. With the cloud and fog, there where in fact areas which were wet meaning extra care was needed. We got through unscathed and even had the chance to see how it was done when being passed by new pro Rick Zabel – son of Erik, in his BMC kit training solo.

 

We followed the same route back at a steady pace meaning we covered 30 miles at a gentle average of just 15mph but it was exactly what the legs needed at this point in the week.

Day 4

After a relatively easy day, it was back to the mountains for what was on paper set to be the hardest day thus far. The plan was to head to the lovely village of Sa Calobra on the north coast but to get there required us to overcome a series of mountains.

 

Once again it was lovely weather on our departure from the hotel and for our ride we had the usual suspects which included myself, Matthew Johnson, Rich Dean and Neil and Mandy Dean.

 

After a fairly flat route out, we started to ascend the Coll de sa Batalla which was around 5-6% which peaked around the 500 metres point. It was also a stepping stone to the Puig Major however we weren’t going to attempt the whole of that climb today. After a food stop at the bottom we were on our way with myself bringing up the rear. Slowly but surely I managed to catch Neil at the front and then push on alone. However not long after dropping Neil I looked back and noticed two riders flying up behind him. By the time they had come up to me I had realised that it was two Garmin riders out training, one of whom was Tom Danielson and I’m still unsure of who the other one was. Stunned and excited at the same time I managed to cling onto the back of their wheels. When they caught me the gradient was about 6% but the were still managing to power a large gear around 20mph uphill! The road flattened a bit but as soon as it steepened I decided to let them go realising I would probably go too deep into the red about a mile later. However there were more riders from Garmin behind as one by one the likes of David Millar and Tyler Farrar swooped past me. For those who think sprinters like Tyler Farrar can’t climb think again, he was powering along.

 

 

Not long after the stars went past I reached the summit with Neil, Matt, Rich and Mandy following not to behind. After a few ups and downs for the next few kilometres we ascended the next climb up to the Coll Dels Reis which peaked at 680 metres and was a bit steeper than the earlier climb. The descent to Sa Calobra was perhaps the most entertaining part of the climb as it included a 270 degree hairpin and some narrow stretches which led to a thrilling descent into the village. It also gave us chance to note which where the steepest parts as we would be ascending out of the village up the same climb. We also saw our Garmin friends climbing the opposite way to us.

 

 

Once at the village we took a moment to soak up the scenery and take a few photos before heading off. Rich was the first to attempt the climb before we eventually caught him up. The climb itself is perhaps the toughest on the island with stretches of 12% in places and an average of about 8%. With the fatigue of the ride and the fact that the toughest part was at the top, the final third was a total slog in getting up. Me and Neil were first up but behind Rich and Matthew were having a tussle to the top of the peak. If I’d known I’d have got a better video than the one I’d taken with Matt just edging out Rich for the top. The sight of the two of them hunched over their bars gasping for air was a joy to watch from my point of view, although I’m not sure Matt and Rich would agree entirely.

 

 

We regrouped and headed back the way we came which meant that we managed to get to the summit of the Coll de sa Battalla were the café stop was. Unlike day 2, the café was open which meant we had a chance to get some refreshments before heading back.

 

Immediately after our stop was a descent, the same that we had climbed earlier where the Garmin guys had passed us. The first part of the descent was twisty and we ended up catching a couple of cars. We managed to overtake them but not without one of them blowing his horn, clearly unhappy that our bikes where faster than his car. Unfortunately the road flattened out and was much straighter. This gave the angry chap behind the opportunity to come racing past me and overtake Neil right before a hairpin. It was a stupid and dangerous move made by the driver who was clearly annoyed at us. He even blew a load of fumes in Neil’s face as he planted the accelerator out of the corner. He managed to get away for a bit before we caught him up again once the road became twistier. This time we decided to stay back perhaps conscious that if we was to make him angrier he could drive us off the road or something.

 

Once back off the descent we headed back home on a relatively flat route to the hotel with Neil on the front powering his way forward in a way that only Neil can. I tried to do a few turns but my legs were aching extensively. However when we got to Santa Maria, a village about 15 miles from home, I felt that my nose was running quite a bit. When I checked I had blood on my hands from a nose bleed. Not the nicest thing to experience but when you are riding along at 20mph the wind in your face can cause a mess. I ended up with blood splattering on my face, on my bike and even on my shoes. We didn’t have any tissues either so I tried to use a biscuit wrapper which was useless. Rich saved the day though as he managed to find a local pharmacy and grabbed some tissues for me to use.

 

After that dilemma, we managed to get home without any more problems which meant we had covered 95 miles climbed 2093 metres all at an average of 16.1 mph.

Day 5

The fifth day of riding was to be a slightly easier day of cycling and the mood was somewhat more relaxed between us as a result. Once again it was the usual five that headed out under sunny skies and even warmer temperatures. Rich was on camera duty on the earlier flat sections by taken a few videos of us on the go.

 

The plan for the day was to climb to the Orient, which was a lovely village hidden in the mountains just north of Bunyola.

 

The legs were a understandably tired for all of us after yesterdays mammoth ride. The major climbing of the day started at a relatively easy gradient on smooth tarmac just after we had gone through the village of Alaro. I was trying to use the day as something of a rest day but once on the climb I was inspired by the lovely views and the challenging gradient, so I decided to press on solo. Once at the top and after going through the village of Orient, we started to descend. Unfortunately the smooth tarmac had gone and we were left with much rougher asphalt and more pot holes. We’d also been caught by another one of those teams so we tried to follow their lines down the climb. The rough tarmac meant some of the corners were hard to brake on and Matt nearly lost it when his back wheel slid out behind him. Fortunately we came together at the village of Bunyola for a café stop rated 9/10 by Rich with only the slow service letting it down.

 

After our stop we headed back under the beautiful sun. Although a quiet day in terms of action and distance, it was something that the legs needed. All in all we had covered 51 miles with 841 metres of climbing at an average of 16.1 mph again.

Day 6

Day 6 had me worried. Neil had planned on us to go to the Cap de Formenter right at the top part of the island the furthest point away from our hotel. I’d been told that it was 120 miles which was concerning. I’d only ever done a 100 before and that wasn’t with 340 miles in the legs from 5 days of tough cycling. I was even more concerned when Mandy let it slip that it was 140 miles. ‘What have I let myself in for’ I thought. Mandy could tell I wasn’t 100% by the fact I was so quiet beforehand due to nerves. However the one thing I’d learnt to do with the advice of others like Mandy, was to eat properly. Once you eat properly you can go for miles and miles.

 

Once we had started, at the much earlier time of 8.50 am to ensure we had enough light on the way back, I felt a lot better knowing that with every mile that huge total was getting smaller and smaller.

 

However it wasn’t long before Rich was encountering problems. His electronic gears had let him down leaving him stuck in one massive gear. He inspected the bike at the top of one of the climbs but there was little he could do. He was going to turn round there and then but Mandy persuaded him to carry on for a few more miles before leaving myself and Neil near the town of Inca. So that’s what happened with Mandy and Rich waving us off at the 25 mile point like we were about to embark on a solo round the world journey in a boat or at least that’s what it felt like.

 

After Inca, the next biggest place was Pollenca, where Neil told me that it was 35 miles to the Cap and back from that point. My mileage was well into the 50s at this point so I knew we were on for something big but not perhaps the 140 miles as previously mentioned. After going through the town of Port de Pollenca we were onto the Cap, and is the norm in Majorca we were soon climbing uphill. The road was steep but unsurprisingly being so close to the sea, the wind was also a factor. We almost came to a halt in places but we eventually got to the top. That was just the first 3 miles or so, we still had another 8 more lumpy miles to come. When we did reach the Cap the views were truly awesome with the sea a lovely turquoise green in places and a historic lighthouse overseeing the Mediterranean. It was below the lighthouse where we stopped for a bit of lunch. Other than fighting off a goat and a cat for our food the rest was most relaxing. It was also reassuring to know that we had hit the half way mark and I wasn’t feeling too bad.

 

 

Despite the pain in the legs on the immediate climb away from the lighthouse, we came to the end of the Cap feeling relatively fresh. However on the descent into Port de Pollenca we were ambushed almost by a group of mountain bikers trying to race each other down the hill. The risks they were taking was ridiculous and how none of them collided I don’t know. Neil overtook them where he could as the gears on his road bike were much bigger than any of those on the mountain bikers. I decided to leave a gap in order to guarantee my safety. We both got down ok and headed back towards to Pollenca.

 

Not long after Pollenca, we caught a group of 10 cyclists who also happened to be from the UK. We chatted to them for a bit whilst also gaining a bit of a draft which was most welcome at that point.

 

After leaving them we headed back into the valley towards Inca but not before we managed to stop for refreshments at the lovely village of Campanet.

 

The rest of the ride was pretty straightforward as we hugged the road that ran parallel with the main Majorcan motorway to Palma with myself and Neil swapping turns at the front. Once we got to Santa Maria I knew we’d be ok and it was also at this point that I’d ticked over the 100 mile mark indicating a new personal best for me in terms of distance. By the time I got home we had covered 117 miles at an average of 17.8 mph which I didn’t think was too bad and we needn’t of worried about lights as we had more than enough time before daytime turned into night.

Day 7

Day 7 was to be the last day for me and boy was my body pleased. Although I’d miss the great weather, the climbs and the scenery my legs couldn’t really take much more. However I was just 45 miles short of the 500 mark and I probably wouldn’t have forgiving myself if I didn’t quite get over the 500 mark.

 

I was keen on having one last day in the mountains but with my stuff now in Mandy and Neil’s room due to me having to be checked out at 11 am, I thought it best to stick with them. So the plan for the day was to head to the monastery of San Salvador not far from the town of Felanitx down in the bottom corner of the island. It was just the 3 of us today with Rich having had to return his hire bike back to the shop.

 

The road out was very peaceful and even when we hit the main road there was barely a car in sight. Neil was his usual strong self by setting the majority of the pace to Felanitx and he pointed out whereabouts we had to climb to get to the monastery. With this part of Majorca being flat, any hills can be seen from miles away, perhaps similar to the effect that Mont Ventoux has on Provence. The hill pointed out by Neil didn’t look like a hill, it was more reminiscent of a mountain and with yesterday in my legs I was once again apprehensive of what was to come.

 

The ascent started pretty much at the town of Felanitx but the proper start of the climb was marked by two stone crosses adjacent to the main road which we had just left. The sign indicated we had 4km of climbing at an average of around 6%. Not too bad then.

 

The legs responded quite well considering and it wasn’t too long until I was at the top. The views once up there were tremendous and you could see pretty much the entire island. If you get the chance to go it’s well worth the visit.

 

After a bite to eat and a few photos we headed back down the climb knowing that these were to be the last hairpins of the holiday. I went as fast as I could trying to hit every apex spot on. Once on the flat we realised that the wind was now coming straight into our faces, nothing too excessive but any added form of resistance was always going to be painful at this point. The roads were also less than adventurous as they were long straight and slightly uphill somewhat similar to those you see in the Vuelta in August. I tried a few turns on the front but I was beginning to ache. Not so much in my legs but in my neck and my rear end – which was in less than perfect condition! After going through the village of Campos, we had yet more long straight roads. Well my body, or rather my mind, just gave up. I couldn’t go on much further and I just stopped pedalling right in front of Mandy. Once again not knowing where I was or how far there was to go was becoming too much for my fragile state to cope with. We eventually got going again but I had to stop not long after. Fortunately by this point we could see the sea and I’d also gone past the 45 mile mark meaning I had now covered 500 for the week.

 

By this point we were going downhill towards the coast and it wasn’t long before we were back at the hotel. We’d covered 60 miles for the day at an average of 17mph which was surprising considering the state I was in.

 

However that was it, a fantastic week of cycling was over and I wasn’t sure whether I was more relieved that I didn’t have to do any more miles or sad due to the fact that I was having to leave the weather and scenery behind. One things for sure, I’ll be back for more next year

 

Mark Walker
HTRC RR Secretary

 

Mandy Dean also wrote a report of the trip available to read via the link below:

 

Majorca Training Camp February 2014