The North Race à la Brompton

What's harder than racing your bike for 24 hours? Doing that on a Brompton. Dean Dent decided to take on the first ever The North Race Mass Start and do just that. Over to him as he reflects back on the experience. 

Ever since Josh Reid's first ride and the YouTube video, I've always quite fancied the idea of doing the North Race. Showing up whenever you like, scanning the QR code and heading north on your own time was appealing. It's different to other events because it's you against you. It's not only a physical challenge, but a mental challenge too.

Having said that, despite good intentions, I never got around to it. So when I got the email from Restrap saying that it was now going to be a mass start event, I thought it was the time to put my money where my mouth was and get involved. This was the push I needed.

I cycle regularly, but despite the odd jaunt bikepacking, most of my miles this year have come from my regular Tuesday night sub-25 milers with friends - a more relaxed affair, usually ending in the pub (don't all the best rides?) So this year I was hardly in the shape of my life. But with a month and a half to go and the plan to get some saddle time in, I pulled the trigger and registered to ride.

I knew this event was likely to attract some incredible athletes and the idea of being able to go toe-to-toe with the big boys and girls didn't seem very feasible. Josh's starter ride was an amazing distance in itself, but to then see the distance increase over and over again really put into perspective the calibre of rider likely to show up and throw down. Add into the mix the excitement of the day and the will to compete and the day could really get some amazing performances.

So what to do? Well if you can't beat them, cheat! Furthest male? Not a chance. Fastest female? Highly unlikely. But one thing I could do was cheekily invent my own category!

I've had an idea brewing in the back of my mind for a long time. And this was to do some kind of ride for a charity close to my heart. Now this event would possibly gain some attention with the cycling community, but to get a further reach I decided to do something a little more eye-catching and unorthodox. I had an old Brompton knocking about and I wasn't afraid to wield it. So the idea was born. 24 hours sitting on a folding city bike traversing the country. Why not? And who knows, if nobody else had the same thought, I could be the furthest North on a Brompton.

Being the type of bike it is, it did have some physical constraints with regards to packing. But with a Restrap top tube bag for food and power pack, a 4.5 litre saddle pack for warm layers and a stem bag for snacks etc it was just about possible.

Race day came and on the start line the nerves were strong. Restrap had assembled a fantastic group of 50ish riders. I could see people were serious. Noon came and off we went. Instantly routes differed and we scattered left and right. Quick passes were met with 'good luck', 'be safe' and 'enjoy': a testament to the friendliness of the bike-packing / endurance riding community.

A few hours in and feeling good

Riding through the day was a joyful experience. The sun was out and the wind was low. It was the perfect day. Once the hills of Leeds had been conquered, my particular route flattened out and it was just a case of living by my mantra of 'slow down and persevere.' I'd managed to strip out all but one of the multitude of busy A-roads heading North so my route was country B-roads and small market towns - a plan more with the wee small hours in mind.

A serendipitous opportunity not to be missed 

Mandatory mid ride selfie

I reached my goal much faster than anticipated, which was a much lower geographical target than others given my unique circumstances. So I took a break and decided what my next move was. My plan was to ride until 10pm and give myself a comfy buffer for getting home to allow for a tired body, mechanicals etc. So I pushed on further north. Ending on the coast would have been nice (another 25 wiggly km) but I decided to call it at 90km geographical North - halfway between Middlesbrough and Hartlepool.

Stockton Town Hall - My original target destination

Turning around was both satisfying and slightly panic-inducing. I felt a great sense of achievement but everything I'd just done, all my effort, now had to be replicated in the dead of night. (Can you tell I'm not an ultra rider!)

So off I went, back through the parallel night lives of the Stockton and Yarm clubbers (cue my first bit of abuse of the day).

The night time brought, rats, rabbits and barn owls

My bed for 45 minutes

Now my route of quiet country back roads paid off in terms of lack of traffic but also supplied lower than planned for temperatures and a multitude of animals to avoid. At 2am I found a luxury bus shelter and had a 45 minute kip before plodding on once more into the darkness. My next target was 6am. I was cold but I knew if I could make it, the sun would rise and the last phase would begin. The daylight brought great relief and I knew that although I was physically starting to slow down, I could do it.

The first glimmers of light

For the final few hours I could tell my body had had enough. Mentally I was slowing; physically from 20 miles out I knew I was getting that old familiar feeling of 'the bonk'. Despite being able to tell that my stomach was sick of all the sweet stuff, I had a gel and pushed on. I knew that the final approach to HQ was a flowing downhill, but what goes down must first go up. The inclines on any other day wouldn't even be an issue, but these gentle inclines were mountains at hour 21.

As I entered my last 5 miles, a bike drew alongside me - a fellow rider. A stranger but someone I knew I shared a unique experience with. A quick chat, a fist bump and off he went. That was all I needed. I was nearly there. I cruised down the final hill, rounded the corner on to Kirkstall Road and I could see distant friendly faces and the black flags of Restrap HQ. I'd done it. In my own way, but I'd done it.

The final approach

I feel privileged that I was able to ride an event with such amazing people. Serious athletes, record holders but overall a bunch of friendly people. I'm also thankful to Restrap that I was able to add a bit of silliness to what was a serious and really well organised event.

I managed my longest ride ever (263km) and on a folding city bike. I had fun and most importantly to me, at time of writing I have raised over £800 for the Brain Tumour Charity (thanks to the generosity of my colleagues, friends and family).

I really hope this is an event that stays in the cycling calendar. It's truly unique. Having said that, I'm not sure I'll be signing up again. I'm broken. But then again . . . Maybe I could try it on a real bike . . .

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Thanks for taking part, Dean and the great post-race story telling. All photos other than the final one, credit Dean Dent. 

If you are feeling inspired, The North Race will take place 11-12th September 2027, you can sign up here.