Here you go…
You start with the roll out from the showground at Grasmere and down to Ambleside. This is gently undulating but trends downhill, and is a very easy start. However, the road will be very busy with riders, so do pay attention. The ‘real’ Fred starts somewhere around the 10km mark, with a very tight left turn onto Holbeck Lane, which is a short, moderately steep little climb. More to the point, it’s very narrow and will be very congested at this point in the event. Just navigate it safely, don’t expend too much energy, and after about 1km, the gradient eases as you go through Troutbeck, before the road leads on to Kirkstone Pass (5.0km, average 5.5%, max 16%).
Kirkstone is the longest of the major climbs you’ll encounter on the route, but it’s definitely the easiest. In terms of approach, it’s a (fairly) steady ~6% most of the way, with just a few sharper ramps to disrupt you, so you should be able to find the right gear and spin at tempo. Moreover, the slightly grindy feel of the climb will be offset by adrenaline and (weather permitting) the first spectacular view of the day. Take it easy up here; you don’t want to overreach this early, whatever you do.
The pub marks the summit, and at this point it’s advisable to re-don a layer as it’s a long and fast downhill and likely still chilly. The way down from Kirkstone features a few chicanes, there will still be lots of riders around, and do remember it’s not a closed road. There’s then quite a long, m gently rolling, pretty section of road. It’s worth getting in a group here, as long as you can do so without overstretching. After just over 30 km, you turn sharp left off the main road, and you hit the second big climb, Matterdale End (1.9km, av 7.7%, max 11%)
This something of a reality check after ~15km of easy and fast riding. However, if you ride most of the whole thing in the saddle, at steady pace, it shouldn’t present any real problems. Remind yourself there is a long way to go.
After this, it’s the A66 (including some dual carriageway) section of the course (from 41km). This can go one of two ways; if you’re off early, in a decent group and you get a tailwind, it can be very fast, mostly quiet, and will allow you to tick off a sizeable chunk of distance for little physical investment. On the other hand, if you’re on your own, riding later, into a headwind, with traffic, it can be a draining and stressful experience. This is the single section of the course where riding a little (a little!) harder than you’re really comfortable with to be in a group is probably worth the trade-off.
The A66 deposits you at Keswick (at c.55km), after which the roads get narrower, more undulating, the groups tend to splinter, and before you know it, you’re facing the first real test of the day: Honister Pass (2.4km, av 9.9%, max 25%).
To be very clear, Honister is a horrible climb. Additionally, for some reason, even though I’ve ridden it quite a few times now, it always surprises me with just how hard it is. Part of that, I suspect, is the start: the road rears up to 25% almost immediately as you go around the corner, and stays very steep for the best part of a km. There aren’t many options here - you’re going to be almost flat out whatever you do. The middle part of the climb (after the cattle grid) eases off significantly, and you will need to use this to recover as much as possible, because the last section ramps back up to about 20% over the top. While it’s not as frankly ridiculous as Hardknott, it’s still a very, very challenging section of road, and you’ll be grateful for the descent into Buttermere to recover. It is, though, a tricky downhill and caution is needed.
As a side note, the section between the bottom of Honister and the start of Newlands is stunningly beautiful and my favourite part of the route. I’d advise you to slow down just a little here, spin some fatigue out of your legs, and prioritise taking in the surroundings for a few minutes.
Buttermere also sees the first feed station (75km). Avoid it: it’s typically very busy, there are usually only 2-3 loos and, unless you’re one of the very first riders to arrive, stopping here will likely slow you down significantly. The much better option, if you can, is to take enough food and liquid to get you until the halfway point, and then meet a helper (see comments about Whinlatter Pass, below). Only a few hundred metres after the feed stop, you turn onto the next major climb: Newlands Pass (1.9km, av 10.7%, max 25%).
Newlands (after 77km) is certainly a taxing climb, but it’s also a bit of an odd one. On paper, it’s maybe even harder than Honister, especially given the route doesn’t allow for much rest between them (assuming you haven’t stopped). Nonetheless, most people agree that it just doesn’t feel as difficult, though it’s hard to say precisely why. It’s an unforgiving start, that is for sure, with the gradient hitting close to 20% soon after turning off. It subsequently gives way to an almost completely flat middle section, but be aware that the last km just gets steeper, and steeper, and steeper, touching 25% around the very last corner.
After the descent from Newlands (which is fairly straightforward) you’ll hit the first checkpoint/cut-off at Braithwaite, at about the 81-82km point. This should be academic for most earlier starters, but those beginning later and targeting finish times over 9 hours can fall foul of it, as can those who’ve been visited by mechanical gremlins or who have lingered/been held up at the first feed stop (see comments above on this).
You may have noticed from the elevation profile that the second quarter of the course packs in the big climbs more-or-less one after the other, and sure enough, you’re soon faced with Whinlatter Pass (3.3km, av 6.4%, max 15%). While Whinlatter is quite long, and there are some steep-ish kickers, it’s actually quite a fun part of the event. The gradient is generally steady, your energy levels should still be good at this stage, and the forest gives it a very Alpine feel. Most crucially, there are always large numbers of spectators at this point in the course, which is (genuinely) inspiring. The top of the pass marks, at 91km, almost exactly the halfway point of the course, and the visitor centre car park is the perfect place to meet a helper for more supplies and a bit of moral support. You MUST plan to get to and leave this point with energy in the tank.
I think this next section – specifically, from the far side of Whinlatter to the far side of Cold Fell - has a rather different character to the rest of the Fred; it is more remote both geographically and in feel, has fewer spectators, and is usually the point where most people are really starting to feel the effort. For motivation alone, it can be worth getting in a group around here, even if the constant twists and turns and lumps and bumps tend to work against especially effective drafting. A word of warning: while there are no famous climbs in this area, and the going is generally easier, there are some hills that would be real features in other parts of the country (e.g. Scale Hill, Fangs Brow) and some of the descents are quite sketchy. Work on maintaining your focus, keep eating, and just let the miles tick by.
You’ll reach Cold Fell (3.7km, av 4.8%, max 21%) after 115km, just beyond Ennerdale, and the summit is roughly the 2/3 point on the route. I’m just going to put it out there: I hate Cold Fell. As noted, it’s at the most far-flung and bleak part of the course, is seemingly always cold, damp and windy, and comes just at the point where your legs are probably starting to protest in real earnest. The climb itself is an odd mix of seemingly interminable false flats and short, steep ramps; it’s hard to get into a rhythm, and unless you know the road very well, it’s tricky to tell how far you’ve got left, too. You’re also probably carrying quite a lot of fatigue by now, and you know you need to save a bit with Hardknott and Wrynose to come… Like I said, I hate it.
The descent from Cold Fell is as stop-and-start as the climb, but the sight lines tend to be poor, and there is a steep and dicey section just before you come into Calder Bridge. Calder Bridge is also the location of the second and final feed station (128km) and, literally a few hundred metres up the road, the second checkpoint. If you are running a bit short, a stop here tends to be less problematic than at Buttermere, as it’s usually less crowded (and there are more toilets). Remember the clock is still ticking, however.
Shortly after leaving/passing the feed station, everyone’s mind turns to Hardknott. There’s 30km of undulating riding beforehand, mind you, and the roads tend to be very narrow; a few tired and distracted riders come down around here every year, so keep concentrating. After a short section of busy main road, you pass through the villages of Gosforth (which is the three-quarter point of the ride), Santon Bridge, and Eskdale Green, before you turn right, the road narrows, and the ‘extreme gradient ahead’ signs begin to appear, as does your sense of impending doom. The ribbon of tarmac winding up the mountain is visible from about 1km away, and when you pass the famous red phone box, Hardknott Pass (2.2km, av 13.3%, max 33%) begins.
There’s no way around it: Hardknott is incredibly difficult on fresh legs. Coming after almost 160 km, it’s beyond hard. Possibly only 5% of the field will ride this from top to bottom without putting a foot down; far more that that will walk almost all of it, and pushing riders can be a serious obstruction for those trying to keep pedalling. It is savagely steep (20-25%) from the very start, and stays well over 15% for much of the first km. The first series of hairpins eventually gives way to around 600m of 5-6% straight road; recover as much as you can here, because what follows is just about the toughest section of tarmac anywhere in the UK. Now, you’re faced with a succession of impossibly steep hairpins, the last of which touches 33% (slightly steeper than a standard staircase, for reference), before the climb finally shows some mercy and eases off to a mere 10% over the top. Finally, practise the descent if at all possible; jokes aside, it is absolutely terrifying and there is very little like it you’ll have seen before. Take a minute at the top (but get off the road and out of the way!) to catch your breath and compose yourself, get in the drops from the start (that’s a good idea on all the big descents, really) and be very, very conservative. There are serious accidents here every year.
Most people’s lungs have largely recovered by the bottom of Hardknott, but their nerves will be frayed, and perhaps more to the point, already sore backs, necks and hands may be reaching their limit. It’s one of the few occasions when stopping after a descent can be a good plan: stretch, shake your hands out, take on the last bit of food, and compose yourself again for Wrynose Pass (1.8km, av 8%, max 25%), which starts in just a couple of km.
On its own, Wrynose isn’t that hard. Yes, the last few hundred metres are very, very steep (around 25%), but much of it is (or should be) really quite manageable. What makes it a grim prospect now is thar you have the small matter of over 165km of riding and 3000m of climbing (including Hardknott) in your legs. Ride it steady until the final stretch, and take comfort from knowing that this last effort over the top is (almost) your last push of the day. The descent isn’t as quite as steep or as twisting as Hardknott, but it is just as dangerous: it starts out very straight, which makes it very, very fast, and it’s also extremely bumpy, with a terrifying drop to the right, and there are some evil hairpins towards the base.
You’re now in the final stretch. However, there’s still one last climb to drag yourself up. Any respite after Wrynose is minimal, as the course turns sharp left just a few hundred metres after the descent, and you take on Blea Tarn (1.7km, av 7.2%, max 18%). Now, I like Blea Tarn; it is a beautiful climb – on a sunny day, one of the prettiest in the Lakes. Nevertheless, I’m confident in suggesting that very few riders will appreciate it at this moment. At this stage, it’s not about strategy so much as what you have left in the tank, both physically and mentally. One pointer, though; the descent as you ride it in the Fred is actually the steeper route to/from the peak and has possibly the worst road surface of anywhere on the course, so take real care with line choice and don’t take any risks; you don’t want to get within 10km of the finish, and over all the hills, only to spoil it now.
Now it’s the run in. There are no hills left, and you can either power home (if you have anything remaining in your legs) or relax a little and start reflecting on your accomplishment. Stay vigilant, though; the road through Loughrigg is narrow, can be a rat-run for traffic, and the bridge on the far side deposits you straight onto the main road! Ok, this is usually well-marshalled, but tired bodies and minds make poor decisions, so caution is the watchword. Only a few km of flat road remain; just remember this is the busiest bit of road on the whole course, some drivers will be very frustrated by the (probably awful) traffic problems, and you’re not going to make up much time at this juncture. Spin it in back to the showground.
