This is the latest in my series of posts about the London Edinburgh London audax event in August 2025. Read part one here (my road to LEL), part 2 here (lessons from the 400k London Wales London audax), part 3 here (even harder lessons from the Bryan Chapman Memorial 600k audax), part 4 here (volunteers put together the LEL rider starter packs) and part 5 here (packing tips for LEL riders).

LEL is rebranded after the storm struck

Danial Webb cut a lonely figure standing at the summit of Yad Moss. Barely 24 hours into the event, the London Edinburgh London director’s lanyard was dancing crazily in the face of Storm Floris as he shared the bitter news that the storm had forced the curtailment of the event.

The next day, when I met him at Louth, Danial told me that he slept easily that night, confident that the decision guaranteed the safety of over 2,400 LEL riders from around the world. I was one of those cyclists, and I confess that I felt a sense of relief at the decision as I heard the news at the LEL control at Malton, North Yorkshire. Not because I was looking to get out of a challenge I cherished, but because I was genuinely worried about the storm, which forced the closure of Scottish bridges and ferries and left a trail of destruction across Scotland. (Not to mention the first cancellation of a performance at Edinburgh’s military tattoo in 75 years.) The organisers made the only possible decision. I can only guess at the size of the logistical challenge this caused them.

Earlier on that second day of LEL 2025, the organisers had paused the event, holding riders when they reached a control point. (These are places where riders get food and a rest, typically located in a school.) I was held when I got to Malton at 2pm. We heard about the decision to cancel the loop to Edinburgh late that afternoon. Incidentally, the storm was named Floris by the Dutch weather service KNMI, and means ‘flowering’ in English. Ironic given the thousands of flowers and branches uprooted in northern England and Scotland…

I had heard about the initial pause of the ride as I cycled between Hessle, on the north side of the Humber Bridge, and Malton, and recorded my thoughts in a short video:

This wasn’t how I expected my LEL adventure to unravel. I had trained for over six months, cycling over 4,000 miles before the start in London, including the ascent of Mont Ventoux.

I’ll post a much more detailed account of my London Edinburgh London ride over the coming week. Here, I’ll share my experience riding through the storm, and reflect on the unique event of the pause at Malton. For the record, one rider, New Zealander Ian McBride, made it to Edinburgh and back to London – he had left Moffat, the last control before the Scottish capital, just before the pause was announced. As a result, he was the only rider to complete LEL 2025, although a few chose to ride the northern and Scottish loop unofficially rather than head south.

I started that second day at Louth in Lincolnshire just before 6am. I’d had just three hours’ sleep, but felt revived: stopping there rather than pressing on to Hessle through the night was the right decision. Louth was an excellent control, and I’d have a similarly happy visit on the ride south.

Floris first introduced itself to me as I crossed the Humber Bridge. Until 1998 this was the longest single-span suspension bridge in the world, and it was wet and windy up there after I was guided onto the bridge by a cheery volunteer. After the crossing it was just a short distance to Hessle control, where I enjoyed a second breakfast and a couple of coffees served by another friendly volunteer from the kiosk outside the building. (My coffee consumption hit the roof during LEL…)

The cycling became harder as the morning went on, with regular climbs ganging up with a crosswind or headwind to slow me down. It wasn’t yet raining hard, though, and certainly wasn’t cold, and I suffered my usual indecision: rain jacket on or off? To distract me from the worsening weather I listened to the BBC podcast 13 Minutes Presents about the Space Shuttle. (Yesterday my passage across the windy Fens was enlivened by the intriguing The Rest is History series about the causes of the First World War…)

One of the joys of riding London Edinburgh London is that even if you’re riding solo you’re rarely on your own. I was passed by a succession of riders, but was heartened to catch up with cyclists who must have overtaken me earlier in the event, including at least one in my 10.45am Sunday departure group, AB. I couldn’t help thinking that some who had gone too fast yesterday were starting to pay the price. At 11.30am, I noted that it was getting very windy. I’d already been told that the event would be paused very soon, and riders held when they reached their next control.

I’d long been looking forward to cycling through the Yorkshire Wolds beyond Huggate, having enjoyed this corner of ‘God’s own county’ on the Way of the Roses in 2021. But conditions there now were a far cry from the calm weather of four years earlier. My apparently defeated expression above (a still from a video) says it all. But I enjoyed the descent of Huggate Hill.

I’d have loved to have stopped for a coffee at the pop up cafe at Thixendale village hall, but decided to press on as Malton was just 16km further, where I knew I’d be held for some time. This was a dispiriting section with a climb through a dry valley that forced some to walk the hill. (I was glad of my very low bottom gear on my Specialized Diverge gravel bike.) Despite the weather I still marvelled at this unusual landscape; the valleys were formed by glacial action during the last ice age, and the chalk soil drains any water away. Even Floris couldn’t change this…

This was the moment the weather hit us hardest. We were about to turn towards Birdsall and Malton when the rainclouds took aim at us with a burst of torrential rain. We quickly donned jackets and decided whether to shelter under the trees, before deciding we could be there for a long time. Onwards… Soon after I declared: ‘Six miles to Malton, and it can’t come a moment too soon…’ At last I glimpsed Malton down below, and pronounced it a beautiful sight.

Welcome to Malton! Malton control

It was a huge relief to reach the control at Malton School at 1.52pm on Monday afternoon. I took great care parking my bike, as so many had been blown over by the storm. I noted which way the wind was coming from, and chose a parking spot where the bike couldn’t be blown over.

I had a delicious meal – noodles and chicken curry with chilli sauce. After catching up on the LEL Facebook chatter and with home, I was lucky to get a bed in a smaller dormitory that contained no more than 25 beds compared with the main sleeping hall. This proved an oasis of calm, but looking through the window at the trees dancing drunkenly I realised that we’d be here for a long time – in my case, 18 hours. I learned so much about the spirit of London Edinburgh London during that time.

Before we heard that LEL had been curtailed, with all riders heading south from tomorrow, I had a sense of forboding. Much as I’d enjoyed the Floris-enforced rest, I was rather dreading the challenging ride over the North Pennines and Yad Moss. Did I have any chance of completing LEL within even an increased time limit? I pondered where I might be able to find transport south. Edinburgh was the obvious place, as I could say I’d reached the second city in the title. But what were the chances of getting a bike on a train south during the Festival Fringe? What about Carlisle? Or Penrith? Fortunately, none of these desperate measures were needed. I would complete the curtailed LEL – or London Floris London as it was soon wittily renamed.

Malton, 8pm

At 7.30pm Danial Webb announced that LEL was being cut short. The way this was communicated was excellent, with the Malton controller also taking to the stage and answering questions afterwards. Riders gave him a round of applause, underlining their understanding that this was the right decision in the interests of rider safety. I suspect I wasn’t the only one feeling relieved. A further announcement would be made about timings for the ride south in the morning.

Malton did an excellent job arranging a further meal at 10pm, while a few keen riders had foraged locally for beer!

After a restful night, we were fed breakfast from 6am, briefed on arrangements, and then allowed to continue our LEL journey south. My Malton adventure was over. It proved a good place to pause – Richmond, the next point north, was even busier by all accounts.

We are updated as breakfast is served Fuel for the road south

Thank you!

I will never forget the kindness of the volunteers at Malton during those 18 hours in August 2025. They were simply magnificent. They’d received a deluge of riders who stayed overnight, requiring extra food and bedding. Their spirit was unquenchable. If I were running a company serving the public, I’d snap them all up in an instant. Thank you!

I’ll blog further about my 2025 LEL experience later. In the meantime, here’s my video showcasing LEL 2025. Do like and subscribe and you will get notified when I post further videos about my cycling adventures!

Would you like to feature in a book about London Edinburgh London 2025?

I’m planning to write a book offering a more comprehensive account of this unique edition of LEL. I’d love to include stories from other riders, especially those who travelled from overseas to take part. I also want to feature stories from the volunteers who worked tirelessly to support us. Please contact me via the contact form below if you’re interested in featuring, including brief details of your experience in the message field. Thank you!