Nobody sensible sets their alarm for 3.55 a.m. on their day off do they? But then who said anything about gravel riders being sensible! The weather forecast was perfect. There hadn’t been any rain for weeks so the trails would be dry and dusty. Perhaps most importantly, it fitted perfectly with his schedule. So Olly set his alarm for stupid o’clock and headed out with the gravel riding larks for an early morning coffee ride.

There’s something simultaneously utterly hideous and also quite exciting about getting up so early. The majority of the world are still in bed, blissfully unaware of the magic that they’re missing. Attempting to move around the pitch dark house in full-Ninja mode so that you don’t wake your still-sleeping (hopefully) partner is nigh on impossible. Every squeaky floorboard sounds like an explosion of noise. The slightly disgruntled cat miaowing her displeasure at the lights being turned on sounds like a lioness roaring in the savanna. Trying to force yourself to eat some pre-ride breakfast is not easy. But then as you snick the door shut and clip in to your pedals, the magic begins.

I’d carefully plotted my route to the meet-up point so that it was as much away-from-the-road as was possible. I figured that the roads would be pretty quiet, but equally that any drivers would still be half-asleep, stressed about their work day ahead or on their way home from a club, none of which made them my ideal choice of bedfellows. Fortunately I was worrying about nothing. There was absolutely zero traffic. It reminded me of Covid times, which although hideous on so many levels, generated a sense of peace and tranquillity even close to a major city centre that was quite mind blowing. Riding before 5am felt exactly the same. Like I had found the magic door that led to gravelly Narnia. Just me and a few early morning avian friends, busy warming up their vocal cords for a full assault on the aural senses a short while later.

What was most odd (in a kind of face-palming-that-was-obvious manner) was that the lack of people meant my journey was so much quicker that I had expected. Every traffic light was on green. Where my bike path crossed main roads, I didn’t have to press the beg button and then stand there quietly fuming while the traffic roared past. Apart from a few insomniac dog walkers, it felt like riding through a ghost town. While everyone else is still in the land of nod, riding through the centre of a city is bliss.

The ride was scheduled to start at 5.30am next to the entrance of one of the north-east’s institutions – the Tyne Pedestrian & Cyclists Tunnel. First opened in 1951, at their peak 20,000 people used the tunnels each day to access the vast array of industries that were previously located on either side of the mighty River Tyne. When I rolled up, a few minutes early, there was already one rider waiting there. Despite having been a member of their Facebook group for quite a few years, it was the first time I had actually been on a Gravel Crushers North East ride and riding up to a complete stranger to ask if they were a Gravel Crusher might have raised some eyebrows in other walks of life, but gravel riders are generally a pretty relaxed bunch. 

Considering that it was 5.30 on a Friday morning I was expecting three or four riders to turn up at most. As the eighth rolled up to greet everyone waiting there I was absolutely amazed. The Friday morning coffee ride was obviously a significantly bigger attraction than I had given it credit for! Both north and south of the River Tyne is a huge network of former railways which were once used to bring coal from a vast collection of collieries down to the river to be loaded onto ships. These wagonways have in many places been converted into shared use traffic-free trails and they make the perfect way to get out of the city on a bike. 

When you ride with a new group for the first time, there’s always that initial block of time where you’re trying to figure out how you fit into the unofficial pecking order. You need to make speedy assessments of which wheel you can safely follow, how the communication works between the different riders, what speed is appropriate, how often they regroup and a million other small things. Fortunately, I knew the trails pretty well and could remember where most of the potential hazards were, so I could spend the time trying to get to know the different riders rather than always worrying about what was coming up next. What was slightly unusual about this ride (compared to ones that I normally do) is that their Friday early morning coffee ride always takes the same route. This is partly driven by finding a suitable coffee stop (many of the cafes locally don’t open early enough) but also based on the trails – not too technical, plenty of fun, a great spot to watch the sunrise, suitable for big groups etc.

What surprised me the most (in a good way) was how rapid the pace was. It’s really hard to tell from a bunch of Facebook posts what a group is going to be like in real life, but I guess anyone who is crazy enough to meet up at 5.30am to go for a ride is going to be pretty keen (and probably a decent rider). Just looking around the group at the bikes, kit and clothing it was obvious that they knew what they were doing and the pace straight from the gun was definitely ‘spirited’. There was obviously a strong bond between the riders too though and there were frequent regroups and if someone had a mechanical issue, others in the group would stop to help.

Whether by total luck or perfectly judged group management, we arrived at the easternmost part of our route precisely as the sun came up. The perfectly calm water and the stunning colours made it look like the opening scene from a Hollywood film and when, unbidden, everyone rode to the seafront, stopped and spread themselves out perfectly, the photographer in me did a little dance of joy! 

It was surprising just how many other people were up and about and audibly enjoying the sunrise too. Although I only live 20 km inland from the coast, it was only the third time in the last decade that I’ve made the effort to be there for sunrise, whereas for ‘real’ locals (and the Friday gravel crushers), it was obviously a much more common occurrence. There was a tangible sense of shared-joy at witnessing something so simple as a sunrise and everyone, cyclists, runners, dog walkers, sun worshippers, seemed to really appreciate the experience.

After a few minutes watching the fiery sunrise, the need for caffeine made itself apparent and we set off down the coast, heading for the group’s regular café stop at Cullercoats Coffee. Our route was a mix of shared-use path, some amazing coastal trails (fortunately still free of dog walkers) and some urban riding for the final stretch. The fact that the group do this ride every week was obvious as we walked in to the café to a very warm welcome. The café was already buzzing with an early morning crowd. Based solely on their outfits, quite a few had come straight from a sunrise swim, which considering how cold it was outside would have been pretty low down my list of fun ways to start the day. Everyone knows that the best way to start the day is a gravel ride don’t they….

With coffee and pastries inhaled, we set off south, the first part of our route along the newly completed Sunrise Cycleway, an incredible piece of hard-segregated cycling infrastructure which follows the coast for a total of 8km and finishes in the centre of Tynemouth. While it’s nowhere near as fun as riding a gravel wagonway, having some purpose-built cycling infrastructure (still not that common in the UK outside of London) is something to be celebrated, so we made the most of it. As we got closer to the start/finish point of the ride, a few of the riders peeled off. I was one of the fortunate ones in that it was my day off, but it seemed like the majority of the other riders were heading off to work. 

As ways to start your day go, an early morning gravel ride is unbeatable. While unfortunately I won’t be able to join the GCNE for many Friday coffee rides, this one was an absolutely perfect way to finish the week. Arriving back home after the ride, just as most people were setting out to work, was an odd feeling – I felt like I’d been dropped back into normality after a few blissful hours spent in a different world with the early morning gravel crushers.

Thanks to GCNE for the invite and hope to join you on a ride again soon.