Underbiking the Peak Divide on the Brompton G-Line
Some of you may be aware that there is a kind of extended-universe connection between Outsiders Store and Brompton Bicycles. We made a small ad for the release of their off-road, beefed up, G-Line bicycle back when it was released. Brompton had selected us due to our somewhat wonky, a-typical take on outdoor leisure. One that seemed to align with their release of a small wheeled, folding, off-road bicycle.
Fast-forward two years and I (Charlie, Marketing at Outsiders) receive a call from Brompton with an unusual invitation: “How would you like to ride from Manchester to Sheffield, off-road, on the Brompton G-Line?”. Always up for an original challenge, I accepted.
It turned out that the ride was a part of Peak Divide (an organised, not-a-race social trail run put on by friends of ours), and Brompton were getting a handful of people involved to ride the Divide on their bikes for the very first time.
The route shuffles out of Track Brewery in Manchester, hitting checkpoints and food-stops all the way to Edale, where participants camp and have a bit of a party before pushing on to Sheffield the next day. If you’re into running, I’d highly recommend signing up for next year.
On the Brompton team was me and Chi (Buying Assistant) from Outsiders Store, Shona Oldfield from Keep Pedalling, endurance cyclist and writer Emily Chapell, and photographer, Luke Broster.
The event rolled around and the night before, we went to Track to load up on cask ale and pizza and to collect the one-of-one custom-colourway Peak Divide Brompton that I would be riding. After a quick last-minute trip to Aldi for pork pies, Wine Gums and cashew nuts I was straight to bed for an early night.
Bright and early the next morning and back at the brewery, spirits were high amongst the 350-strong crowd of runners gathering. Camping kit was stashed in the shuttle-van, peanut butter toast and coffee was consumed, toothbrushes were ceremonially chopped, and after a brief introduction from the organisers we were off, leading out the runners by flag-bearing bike to the Vimto Statue, the official starting point of Peak Divide.
We rolled out for a few miles up the canal, weaving in and out of the runners, until our paths finally split somewhere in North Manchester. Then we hit our first climb, a steep road ascent up to Werneth Low, one of the first proper hills east of the city. It was here that a realisation hit, 8 rear speeds and a 54t chainring might make this very hilly ride a bit of a grind…
After hitting the first checkpoint on Werneth Low, and a slice or two of pork pie – a perfect high-activity source of protein and fat IMO – we descended a hairy section of rutted rocky singletrack (fun on small wheels!!) and pressed on to Lantern Pike above Marple, the next checkpoint and more importantly, lunch.
It was a textbook spring day – kind of chilly with rain coming on and off like a turn of a tap, a big pain in the arse for packing and unpacking waterproofs! All of this meant that lunch was most welcome – huge pans of tomato pasta topped with capers and parmigiano – we stuffed our faces, drank some coffee, sheltered from the rain and continued, descending off Lantern Pike into Hayfield. We were getting used to the bikes now, and understanding their quirks, chucking them down gravelly bridleways was loads of fun – just watch out for potholes…
Out of Hayfield we picked our way up to Bowden Bridge – the historic starting point of the Kinder Mass Trespass. Out of the gloom there then appeared what I initially thought was a mirage, a colourful vehicle with the words KING WHIPPY writ large across its flank. We were all pretty shot and the cool, fatty sugary relief of a Mr Whippy with VIMTO sauce was a miracle tonic.
After this we’d find ourselves at the toughest part of our journey. A brutal climb quickly became a hike-a-bike which went on for miles. Imagine pushing a shopping trolley over a mountain and you’ll get the idea. Mountain bikers in full-face helmets passed us with quizzical inquiries and the kind of slightly snide comments that people always seem to make toward folk on bikes that aren’t plastic modern moto-style robo mingers.
Finally passing over Edale Cross we began our descent into the Hope Valley via the notorious Jacob’s Ladder – a popular local mountain bike descent. Rutted and rocky with large drops and pits, “riding” this was challenging, with a lot of hopping on and off. In time, we made it down, a golden late-afternoon sun lighting our route to camp along gravel path and country lane.
The atmosphere was alive at the campsite with runners arriving periodically to cheers from the crowds and a finishing sorbet at the line. Tents were pitched, beers were drunk and hot pork and apple baps were eaten. Eventually, knackered, we crawled into our tents to the weird gargles and squeals of turkeys and pigs in the farm next door – oddly peaceful…
Today would be an “easier” ride, surface-wise but would include a lot of climbing. A breakfast of oats, fruit and toast was necessary.
Out of Edale we hit a stunning neon-green Holloway full of spring energy before making our way over bridleways and joining up with the runners course. Here we had our first mechanical with Emily’s hub gear jamming in the hardest gear. It didn’t stop her getting up the hill though where a stroke of luck had us bumping into Rich, the other half of Keep Pedalling and life-long bike mechanic. Five minutes later we were back-on-track with all gears functioning. Thanks Rich.
Legs were feeling heavy as lead by the time we reached Ladybower Reservoir. At the checkpoint I was feeling really shot. I had not slept well two nights in a row now and every time I stopped, I felt seriously fatigued like I could just lie down on the tarmac and sleep. Strangely though, on the bike I felt fine and physically pretty strong – I needed to keep moving.
Out of Ladybower was a big road climb leading to Stanage Edge and the Long Causeway – a gravelly rocky climb that bested most of us. Descending off Stanage was a blast, weaving through the boulders and over hiker-worn slabs.
Another whopping road climb brought us to lunch. A perfect make-your-own sandwich buffet of Oven Bottom Muffins, sliced mozzarella, tomatoes, basil and crumbled Seabrook Crisps for salt and texture. We silently demolished our concoctions, Chi and I sheltering from the nippy wind behind a transit van.
The sandwich must’ve contained EPO because on the next section, Shona decided to go full Lance Armstong, leading us out at a ripping pace. We must’ve cut an amusing silhouette, all flying along on BMX wheels behind our smallest party member.
The final challenge now presented itself. A fully fledged actual mountain bike trail at Lady Cannings MTB Park. I hadn’t ridden a MTB trail since I was 20 years old and for some of our contingent it was a first time. I reminded myself how tired I was and to not get carried away before completely ignoring that and hammering the bike around berms and hopping over table-tops (only a bit slower than ten years ago…). The small wheeled, hydraulic braked bike felt great on the smooth gravel trail and by now I was starting to get attached to it. We all made it down safely bar Chi who miiight have torn a small hole in the shoulder of his Paramo smock…
Out of the woods and into the hills Sheffield showed its face in the distance, and we made our way down, through sun speckled woods and public parks, ringing our bells at runners on the final stretch before eventually rolling over the finish line on Kelham Island.
Most people would think that riding off-road from Manchester to Sheffield on a folding small-wheeled bike would be mental, and in many ways they’d be right. But the cool thing is that it’s possible. Underbiking (the practice of riding a bicycle on terrain more challenging than it was designed for) is a liberating act and gives you confidence and self-assurance that you can do it, whatever the bike, however small the wheels…
With thanks to:
Brompton Bicycles & Peak Divide
Photos by Charlie, Luke Broster, Rich (Keep Pedalling)
