Great Dun Fell – Simon Warren #186
- SW Rating: 11/10
- Wheelygood Rating: Hard
- Length: 4.56 miles
- Avg. gradient: 8%
- Category: 2
- Strava Segment: https://www.strava.com/segments/16406525
- Route: https://www.plotaroute.com/route/1098322
- Parking: Plenty of space on the side of the road towards the bottom and even the odd spot part way up.
The climb of Great Dun Fell has been described as a number of things over the years, including the UK’s Ventoux and Pyrenean in nature. Personally, I’d just stick with ‘long and hard'1.
Assuming you can find the start of it, nestled as it is close to the small village of Knock on a no through road, you might wonder what all the fuss is about. It’s very reasonable to begin with as you trundle gently past a couple of farms and over some decent sized rollers, but, all in all, it doesn’t even register on the climbing scale and you begin to get just that bit blasé about it all.
And, then, just as you think it’s doing to be a gentle trundle in the sun2 you’ll catch a glimpse of the first real ramp of the day. It looks horrific and, yes, it’s one of the steeper sections (if not actually the steep_est_), but it only lasts until the small cops of trees which you can see. So, don’t let this put you off and keep on rolling and, in the grand scheme of things, it’s over and done with pretty quickly.
Once at the crest of this section, you get a chance to recover on the next straight section of road which is probably best described as ‘rolling with an uphill bias’. I’m not sure whether the fact you can see it straight away dead ahead is a good, or bad, thing. Know this, however, it’s the last recovery before one of the longer pulls of the climb. Mind you, it is a ‘recovery’ which has sections over 10%, so, unless you’re going for a time, then I’d continue to keep your powder dry – you’ll need it later on. Yes, really.
Once you reach the cattle grid it’s time to knuckle down and settle in to an extended climb as you pass from farm fields to moorland. On its own, this is longer, and steeper, than a number of other Simon Warren climbs, but, here, it’s just one part of several. It took me about 10 minutes to get past this section on the video and it’s mostly in the low teens for gradient. It never gets stupid steep, but, then again, it doesn’t relent a lot, either. There are some bends to take your mind off the miles, miles and miles of heather. If it’s windy, please be careful as it’s pretty exposed from here on in – if the weather isn’t great at this point, please start considering whether you need to make a sensible decision now rather than further up. If you watch the video to the end you’ll see why…3 You’ll know when you’re getting to the top of this bank when you start to pass the Armco barriers on the left hand side of the road. From a purely cycling perspective, I found their installation marginally ironic – at least it was whilst I was travelling uphill.
Now that you’re about at the half-way point, having worked hard to gain the height you now … have a fun chance to lose some of it again. This really is pretty much the last section of real road recovery before the top. Yes, there are some small plateaus as well as one other spot to rest, but, in terms of extended flatness/descent, this would be it. Make the most of it.
The nest stage of the climb can be best described as rampy. This helps to take some of the edge off it – you go from mid-teens to an easy 7% and back again a number of times on the way up. There’s almost a rhythm to it, until the last one, which, at just under 20% is the steepest all the ramps; it’s also the longest. My advice? Push a bit on the steep sections and recover as best you can on the ‘flatter’ bits and absolutely, under no circumstances, attempt to attack at this point. That time is coming, but not here.
Once up that steeper ramp you’ll reach a bit of a plateau – there’s even a small spot in which you can park a car, or two, if you’ve decided that riding all the way from the bottom is a Bad Idea. Can’t say I’d blame you!
As you approach the next section, I should probably tell you that this, in some ways, is the main event. It’s another ramp, this time directly up the gully, which is good, but it’s the longest and steepest at around 22%, which is bad. Unless you’re feeling strong in which case this is one place to attack – it’s one of the toughest of the climb. There is a slight flaw in the plan, but I’ll save that for a little later. If, however, you’re content to break everyone’s hearts (and legs) with how strong you are, then kick on…
Once past this you can bask in the knowledge (if not the sunshine) of knowing that you have now conquered the steepest part of the climb. Not for too long, though, because there’s still a ways to go.
After a little lump, just to finish you off, the gradient really slackens off to just about flat. You’ll not put on much speed, though, because you’re about to come to a gate. And this, kids, is the flaw in the attack plan earlier – and it is the, genuine, last place at which you can rest. Technically this is a private road and cars aren’t allowed up, apart from the official ones to go to the weather station at the summit. Walkers and cyclists are welcome, but, from the two wheeled perspective the slight difficulty is that the gate is locked so you’ll either need to engage those mad cyclo-cross skillz or do as I did, which is get off and walk around trying not to fall over. Road cleats make this even more entertaining for spectators.
From here the road just keeps on climbing. It’s a cross between the steady moorland climb earlier and the rampiness of the gully so you go from 3-5% up into the mid teens and back again all the while wishing you were now at the top. At least I did, but that might have been due to the ferocious 60+mph gusts at the top. It’s very much a case of head down, bottom up, and keep pedalling.
Eventually, assuming you’ve kept your head down, you’ll see another cattle grid just in before your front wheel. That’s about time to stop as this is the weather station and you can’t get a lot further, which, assuming your legs haven’t already fallen off, is probably just as well!
Happily, though, you can now bask in the moment as you’ve climbed to the top of the highest road in Britain – chapeau! And, now, enjoy the downhill – you really have earned it!
If there are any other road climbs you’d like me to take on, the more ridiculous the better, then please send me a message on my FaceBook page https://www.facebook.com/wheelygoodcycling/ or email me on wheelygoodmail@gmail.com and let me know…
Titter ye not… ↩
Or, much more likely, pouring rain and howling gale… ↩
And, yes, descending was terrifying – I had to walk down some sections otherwise it would have been a choice of being blown off by the wind, or not being able to stop with the rain. Don’t do this, everyone. I’ve experienced it so you don’t have to! ↩
