Written by: Mark Landon | Published on: May 13, 2025 | Edited on: May 14, 2025
There are sportives… and then there’s “The Fred”.
It’s 182km or 112 miles through the heart of the Lake District, packing in a leg-shredding 3,900 metres of climbing. Every rider knows the stats before they start, but stats can’t prepare you for the reality. The Fred Whitton is as much a mental test as it is physical. And for many, it's a rite of passage. This was my third time, I should have known better…
The Night Before: Campervan Nerves and No Sleep
My cycling buddy, Matt, and I arrived in Grasmere the night before, the little village already buzzing with nervous energy. A 5km afternoon stroll, in beautiful sunshine, around the lake that gives the village its name, was the peace and calm before the metaphorical storm that was to follow the next day. Back at the campsite, bikes were being fettled, pasta was being eaten with varying degrees of optimism, and campervans like ours filled the view.
I tried to sleep. Honestly, I did. But every time I closed my eyes, Hardknott Pass reared up in my imagination. I lay there in my sleeping bag, listening to the whir of the aircon and then the birds starting to wake up. For me, it’s usually the sign of a hard, long day, when you are awake with the birds.
Bleary-eyed, I forced down porridge and coffee and squeezed into my kit, layering up against the early morning chill. The event HQ was full of nervous chatter. No one wanted to say it, but everyone was thinking it: “Why are we doing this?”. For Matt and I this was “Why are we doing this again?” This was going to be our hattrick, and little did we know, it would be the toughest of the three. It seems that 10 years and 5kg takes a toll and “The Fred” is more than willing to collect it.
At 6:30, we rolled out in our wave. We were just 2 out of 2,500 intrepid cyclists. No ceremony. Just the quiet click of cleats and a shared sense of dread. The first 5 miles to Ambleside are net downhill and there ‘s friendly chat and some enthusiastic trains forming. We jumped on one to enjoy the draft before the climbs started.
Kirkstone Pass(8.9km long @ 4.8% avg. gradient with 427m of ascent). The first test, just a few miles in. A long drag out of Ambleside that wakes the legs up fast. Cold air bit through my windproof as the gradient pitched up near the top. The descent into Patterdale? Freezing, fast, and thrilling. The smooth tarmac and sweeping corners were a dream. I may struggle up the hills but I make up for it on the downs. Gravity may be against me on the way up, but it’s my friend on the way down. Kirkstone was the fastest flowing descent, and even though I got held up on a few corners by cars and other riders I still hit 75kph and was in the top 5% times for the day. If only the same were true uphill!!
Matterdale End(1.6km long @ 8.3% avg. gradient with 133m of ascent) This comes after a beautiful lake side road along Ullswater has lulled you into a false sense of security, aided and abetted by the glorious sunny day and getting the windproof and arm warmers off. Not the steepest, but it grinds. The sort of climb that chips away at your enthusiasm and energy. Yet again the descent makes up for it – fast and furious, all the way down to the A66 where you jump on a fast train on a slight decline with a tail wind to Keswick. No matter how fast you go there are always faster trains coming past.
Honister Pass(2.4km long @ 10.0% avg. gradient / max 20%, with 248m of ascent) After Keswick and the gorgeous road along Derwent water comes the first really brutal incline. Straight from the fairytale lakeside road along Derwent Water you ride into a wall of slate and pain. Steep and relentless. The first 1km is between 18-25% and then it levels out to 10-15%. The descent down the other side? Hair-raising. One wrong move and you're part of the scenery. For me that all adds to the fun and a switch to riding on the drops to avoid the risk of hands bouncing of the hoods on the entries to hairpins where the tarmac has rippled under the force of cars braking over the years.
Newlands Pass(1.9km long @ 10.3% avg. gradient, max 18% with 198m of ascent) Coming straight after a feed station and only a few miles after Honister, it’s a tough one after refuelling. Steep, narrow, and beautifully cruel. Legs start to complain here, but it’s far too early for that. Still riding the hills. Half way point done.
Whinlatter Pass(3.7km long @ 6.6% avg. gradient, max 14% with 242m of ascent) From the Keswick side, is fairly civilised, shaded in the woods with loads of cheering supporters and cowbells to egg you on. Legs starting to hurt now, already had 4 bottles, bag of Apricots, 3 bars, flapjack and millionaire shortbread but starting to think that’s not been enough.
Cold Fell (3.4km long @ 5.1% avg. gradient, max 12% with 170m of ascent) It’s not the steepest, but it comes after a long drag and the wind always seems to hit you head-on. This is mental toughness territory. Exposed, bleak, and wild. Still riding but very slow up the hills, grinding out my 34x34 granny gear and still hitting the upshift repeatedly not wanting to believe I didn’t have another gear spare. Don’t you just dread that Di2 beep reminding you that you are in the biggest cog already !! Sellafield looming on the coast encourages a fast descent to the next feed station at 76 miles. People are flagging now, I’m still feeling strong on the flats but have nothing on the hills, or even any slight incline for that matter. Legs starting to cramp. If the hills that we’d already done were the aperitif and the starter to some sadistic meal, then the main course was about to be served. I already knew I’d be walking up the steep bits of the hell to come. I wasn’t wrong !!
Hardknott Pass(2.2km long @ 13.5% avg. gradient, max 33% with sustained sections @25%, with 298m of ascent) 96 miles in now. Legs shot. Brain foggy. And then… this. You can see a narrow strip of grey tarmac winding up a steep and craggy hillside, dotted with cyclists making various amount of progress, until your eyes linger on the infamous 33% incline between two hairpins near to the top. When you get there, I was walking at this stage, the tarmac rears up like a wall. Most walk. Some fall, unable to unclip as the relentless gradient grinds them to a halt. A few, somehow, ride. Those that do ride it, and I’m lucky enough to be one of them on my previous 2 Fred’s, but not this one, get a huge amount of encouragement and egging on from those walking and the spectators lining the hardest section. It's not just steep, it’s sadistic. And the descent? Frankly, sketchy!! Hairpins, potholes, and a thousand ways to end your day. There were several accidents here which tempered my enthusiasm for going for it, even so, you could still have cooked an egg on my discs at the bottom.
Wrynose Pass(3.3km long @ 5.4% avg. gradient, max 20% with 178m of ascent) Just when you think it’s over. It isn’t. Wrynose is longer than Hardknott with a shorter, and only slightly gentler steep section. A final sting in the tail with gradients that laugh in your face. At this point, you’re climbing, walking in my case, with your soul, not your legs. It’s after this descent, also very sketchy, that there is one last sting in the tail. Blea tarn climb.
Blea Tarn (2.5km long @ 4.6% avg. gradient, max 25%, with 115m of ascent) On any other day this would be a good climb, but at 100+ miles and after 3500m of ascent it’s a killer. It’s only when you get to the top of this and see the valley road stretching out through the Langdales, past the awesome peaks of Harrison Stickle, Great and Grean Gable, Pavey Arc and the Langdale pikes that you start to believe you might make it to the finish.
The Highs: Cowbells, Cake and Cheering Crowds
What makes The Fred bearable, even beautiful, is embracing everything around the suffering.
Supporters line the route with cowbells, banners and cheers that cut through the pain. At food stations, tired volunteers hand you flapjacks like sacred offerings. I’ve never loved a tuna sandwich more in my life.
And then there are the riders around you. The nods of encouragement. The shared grimaces. The knowing looks that say: “This is hell - but we’re in it together.”
The Finish & Some Stats: A Quiet Sense of Glory
Crossing the finish line back in Grasmere didn’t feel like triumph. It felt like survival. I didn’t punch the air or collapse dramatically. I just smiled. Quietly. The kind of smile that says: “I’ll never do this again”. And that my friends is why I’m writing this - to remind my idiot future self of the brutality and stop me entering a 4th one when the pain is replaced by the memories of something that was “type 2 fun” – not fun at the time, but fun in retrospect when the painful memories have faded to leave only the glory.
The Fred isn’t just a ride. It’s a journey into the heart of what you're made of. And it hurts. Gloriously. I’d recommend any one try it once just to say you did it 😊
Elapsed Time: 10:09:25.
Moving Time: 9:12:26.
Avg speed (sorry Tanya): 19.7km/hr
Overall Position 1671/2107 Age Cat Position 415/539
The “winner” (we were all winners) was a certain Ed Clany ex-GB Track Pursuit Olympian with a time of 5:44:31. Other notable finishers Johnny Brownlee (6:37:35) and Simon Richardson (GCN) (6:15:41). For reference, the course record is 5:26!!
Entries for the 2026 edition open at the end of November 2025 and are usually filled within 10 days. Be sensible and ignore or forget this date 😊
Enthusiastic cyclist, carrying a few extra kg's, I'm never going to be fastest up the hills - what goes up must come down though - I live for the descents.
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Mark Landon | Published on: May 13, 2025 | Edited on: May 14, 2025
