It had been well over a decade since I last rode the Etape du Dales, and although the timeless majesty of the Yorkshire countryside is unchanged, a lot has altered at this once ‘must-ride’ event.
Back in 2011, I was on my ‘promotional tour’ around the UK’s top sportives to spread the word about my first book, 100 Greatest Cycling Climbs.
I’d enter an event with half an eye on the thousands of riders who I assumed would be my core audience, then as soon as I’d finished, I’d go round and stick a flyer for the book under every car windscreen wiper (Don’t you hate it when people do that, especially if it’s wet and it sticks?).
The event was already established as one of the ‘monuments’ of the blossoming British sportive scene, with a killer route packed with stone-cold classic climbs.
Starting from Grassington, it headed north into the Dales to cross Fleet Moss, Buttertubs, Turf Moor, Tan Hill and Garsdale Head, some of the highest and most famous passes in Britain.
This route stayed the same for many years before, in 2018, a change of direction was announced.
From then on, it was run clockwise, which in my opinion made it even harder because it took in the tougher sides of both Fleet Moss and Buttertubs.
New parcours, same spirit
For one reason or another, I never made it back, so when I saw a message flash up on social media that there was going to be a new route, I immediately pencilled it into my diary.
Most of the classic sportives stick to the same route year in, year out, and the events become synonymous with their courses.
You wouldn’t see the Marmotte, the Maratona or the Fred Whitton change its route, so why did the Etape du Dales?
I asked organiser Nigel Bishop, who said he knew it would be a gamble, but he wanted to give the event a shot in the arm, to get it back on the radar.
Entries had been falling off a cliff over the past few years and this was a way to breathe more life back into it.
He added that he wanted a new signature climb. Somewhat envious of the Fred Whitton having Hardknott Pass, he wanted to add an ascent that would draw the crowds, and it had to be something savage.
This, together with a move away from the tourists and expensive accommodation in Grassington to a more accessible headquarters, meant a whole new parcours could be plotted.
The climb of climbs
The new climb Bishop had up his sleeve wasn’t announced right away. In fact, he didn’t release the whole new route until two weeks before the event, opting instead to drip-feed new climbs to crank up the anticipation and create a buzz.
The first new ascent to drop would be Langcliffe Scar and its hideous hairpins, then came the big one, the climb that was set to become the new signature ascent of the ride, the brutal Park Rash.
Now, I have a special connection to Park Rash.
I can remember the day I first laid eyes on it. It was 27 October 1991, when it hosted the National Hill Climb Championships.
I’d enjoyed my best-ever season, setting PBs across the board, and was keen to improve on my club’s best-ever finish of 25th at the National – and knew I had the legs to do this.
What I hadn’t accounted for was the sheer size of the hill to be climbed. It was my first trip to the Dales and I’d never seen anything like it.
It was a mountain! I was set off number 117, three minutes before last man and overwhelming favourite Chris Boardman. Yes, the same Chris Boardman who would a year later take Olympic gold in the 4km Pursuit.
My goal now was to reach the top before he caught me. Partly driven on by the wall of noise that followed him, I made it with a whole 50 seconds to spare (my 8:57mins to his 6:47mins meant I ended up 39th overall).
However, five days before the start of the 2024 event, disaster struck. An email arrived from the organisers informing us that the dreaded Park Rash was no longer on the route.
Neither, for that matter, was the climb of Langcliffe Scar. Both had been removed due to unforeseen road works, and would be shut all summer.
Once the disappointment had settled in, however, excitement grew once again. Beyond the forgotten climbs, there was still more than enough to exhilarate and terrify in equal measure.
Damp start
That duality is clear when I arrive at the new event HQ in Horton-in-Ribblesdale, which fell runners and cyclocross riders will know is where the Three Peaks Challenge starts.
It’s from here that the new giant anticlockwise loop begins, covering 183km and gaining an eye-watering 3,897m of elevation.
What have I let myself in for? Even more than I expected, it seems.
I start out in what can best be described as heavy drizzle. It’s damp, chilly and visibility is poor.
Thankfully, there’s a ray of light as, when I cross-reference multiple weather apps, they all promise good weather later in the day.
For now, sighting is so poor over the top of the first climb of Goats Lane that I can barely see my front wheel, making for a decidedly character-building descent into Halton Gill.
Turning north towards Kettlewell and glancing right, I catch sight of the mighty Park Rash. I’m a little sad I won’t be visiting this monumental ascent today.
Up and over Kidstones Pass, then it’s on to possibly the only stretch that could be considered easy – the run to the first feed stop in Wensley.
With 64km ticked off in bang on two hours, I’m motoring. I’ll be home for lunch, then? No. From here on, it’s Armageddon for me, heading onto Grinton Moor.
My legs are good and, although keen to ride conservatively, I’m happy keeping the chain tight.
Up ahead are three riders from Settle CC. I close in on them. By Grinton, I’m on their wheels. Then things go pear-shaped.
Chain calamity
On the first of the vicious ramps that compromise the lower slopes of Fleak Moss, my chain snaps.
This is the second time in two years that it has blown on a brutal slope, and I’m concerned I’ll develop a phobia of 25 per cent gradients. That’s not ideal in my line of work.
I manage to unclip and, after much swearing, I remove the link, fix it and get going with the very real fear that it could happen again shadowing every pedal stroke.
I’ve also lost my rhythm, but what can you do but get stuck back in? I gradually reel the Settle trio back in and things are looking good again.
Then, click, the link opens once more: “Aaaaarghhh!” I fix it again, swear even more and press on, gingerly.
Once over the beautiful and relentlessly tough Fleak Moss, you hit the precipitous descent, then climb up the back side of Oxnop Scar.
Paranoid my chain will go once more, I try to ease link pressure by weaving from side to side to lessen the impact of the gradient.
Somehow it survives, and for a third time I catch the Settle guys. This time I pass them on the drop into Swaledale. Apart from this brief crossing of paths, interaction with other riders is brief.
Unlike in some events, when you ride into big groups and are sucked along, this effort is predominantly a lonely slog against the worst the Dales can throw at me. And I fear there’s worse to come.
Although not a savage peak like the standout climbs, the drag out of Swaledale, into a strengthening wind, on a coarse surface, is a killer.
But resuscitation soon arrives on reaching the plateau at the top of Lamps Moss, because it’s paradise.
This is the best of the Yorkshire Dales.
It’s so wild, so remote, and no matter how much you’re suffering, you have to tell yourself to soak it in and just look where you’re riding a bike.
Avoid the tension
Over the top, I plummet into Nateby, then it’s into the next gradual upwards pull to feed stop two.
It’s here that I hook up with a rider from Huddersfield Star Wheelers, a big guy. He must be dying on the steep climbs, but he’s strong and we share the pace for the next 10 miles.
It’s great to finally have a companion, even though it’s all too brief because as soon as the gradient tips up, he goes pop.
After the second feed, it’s only 50km to go, albeit with two massive climbs remaining – Garsdale Head (also known as the Coal Road) and White Shaw Moss out of Dentdale.
As it transpires, not surprisingly, they hurt. Petrified that my chain will snap as soon as the tension cranks up, I briefly dismount and walk to avoid disaster.
These two climbs, although not quite the double whammy of Hardknott and Wrynose at the end of the Fred Whitton, are a savage way to end the ride. That’s why, come the top, I light the fuse and let it all out.
Well, that’s the plan. Unfortunately, there are numerous gates on the descent that break the flow.
Wow, this route does not let up, nor back off for a second. Upon reaching Ingleton, I immediately hit more 20 per cent gradient through the town… and it just keeps going.
What, in comparison to its predecessors, is a mere blip on the profile is in the closing stages of this ride a seemingly endless ascent.
If I didn’t laugh I’d cry, but I push hard, emptying the tanks completely all the way back to Hutton.
What a ride!
Stopping the clock at 7hrs 23mins, I reflected on how the ride was so much harder than I’d expected.
Over the same distance with the same elevation, I’d expect to be an hour faster at the Fred Whitton. Maybe it was the lack of alliances and wheels to follow or maybe it’s just tougher roads.
And this was without Park Rash. If we’d had to cross that too, could that have been too much?
The Dales are so spectacular, so wild, pristine, and yes, so remorseless to ride through – you can’t get better. What an event. What (painful and chain-detached) memories.
I really believe this event deserves thousands of entries. Some say the sportive scene is on its knees, but the Dragon Ride attracts 4,000 and the Fred Whitton could get more.
They’re so popular that they have to cap entries and only give places in a ballot. Ten to 15 years ago, the Etape du Dales stood shoulder to shoulder with the Fred as a must-ride monument of the British cycle sportive scene.
Now it finds itself forgotten, unloved and in need of a resurgence. It won’t ever be the Fred (that now, rightly so, has mythical status).
But the Dales’ scenery is second to none, the roads are much quieter than the Fred’s and it climbs the same altitude over the same distance but is harder, so what are you waiting for?
The Dave Rayner Foundation
Sign up for this Yorkshire brute and you’ll be supporting our future Olympians and WorldTour riders…
The Etape du Dales was first run in 2005 to raise money for the Dave Rayner Foundation, which provides young riders who want to race in Europe with the means to travel abroad, set up home and function on a day-to-day basis.
This assistance is financial but also takes the form of advice, mentoring and mental support.
It started in 1996 by backing four riders to compete on the Continent, among them David Millar and Charly Wegelius, who would both go on to have long careers in the pro ranks.
Through its annual dinner and, together with the Etape du Dales and other activities, the fund has raised more than £1,000,000.
