Ride Report - Granite Anvil 2025 1,200km Route

Published: August 25, 2025

Granite Anvil's 2025 edition (GA2025) was easily the most challenging event I've ever been a part of. As I sit here writing this, both of my achilles tendons crunch when I walk and my ass feels like the surface of Mercury. For those unfamiliar with long-distance bike riding (and randonneuring more specifically), GA2025 was a "grand randonnée", a semi-supported ride offered in three distance options with different time limits: a 1,000km, 1,200km, and 1,300km route. I took part in the 1,200km route which had a 91-hour time limit. This was a big jump for me, having previously only completed a flat 600km ride last year which stood as my longest to date.

The clock started at 4:00am on Wednesday, August 20th, and ran non-stop until I finished. Riders are allowed to draft one another, but generally with a route this long, most people end up riding at their own pace primarily alone or too far from the slipstream of other riders for any real benefit. You can eat and sleep whenever and anywhere you want so long as it is on the route and uses resources available to all riders, but there was a hotel room booked for all of us at our "base camp" in Bancroft. All riders are given a brevet card, a long-standing randonneuring tradition, which indicates areas along the route called "controls" where you must stop and get a signature to prove you have been there (a feature that has become technically obsolete with the advent of bike computers and GPX files, but it's still fun nonetheless). The route consisted of four major sections: a ride from Barrie to Bancroft, then two loops around the Bancroft area, and one ride back to Barrie. I have been told that this route consists of the most uphill riding for a 1,200km event in North America, and it certainly delivered on that front. Overall, GA2025 was one of the most unique and interesting experiences I've ever had, despite the pain it inflicted.

Day 1: Barrie to Bancroft

I arrived at my crappy room in the Comfort Inn Barrie on Wednesday afternoon, where I stayed alone. I had been too late too book at the Hampton Inn, where the event was starting from, and where all the other riders had booked rooms (it was full). I spent most of the evening prepping my bike and gear, which I won't go into detail about here, and went to sleep. I had a headache and still felt a bit rough from a camping trip a few days prior, which in retrospect I probably would not have done so close to the start of an event like this as I didn't really eat or sleep that well beforehand.

A Time ADHX 45 gravel bike in a hotel room with cycling kit and food laid out in front of it — My bike setup and initial gear I carried to the start of Granite Anvil 2025. I used a gravel racing bike for this event, which I have been using for everything as of late.

I woke up at 2:30am on Wednesday, checked out of my hotel, and rode to the start of the event carrying my drop-bag for the hotel in Bancroft, which contained mostly clean clothes and food. There I was greeted by the 35 riders and the organizers of the ride who were all in great spirits. I recognized about half of them from previous events, but there were many wearing US-based club jerseys and some others I did not recognize. One rider was even using a recumbent bike, which I have never seen in person before. At 4:00am, we promptly set off adorned with lights and reflective gear and surely looked insane to anyone on the roads at that hour due to being such a large group.

A group of cyclists leaving a hotel lobby — The departure for all route distances at 4:00am. John C. pictured in the foreground getting ready to go.

Even though it was dark and raining as we left Barrie, the excitement and initial pace in the group was very fast. I stupidly tried to ride at the front for a while which I paid for later. Though it pays to ride in a group to keep yourself out of the wind initially, you will get burned on a long ride like this if you overdo it too early.

A group of 30 or more cyclists wearing reflective gear and with red tail lights riding on wet roads in Barrie, Ontario — Riding through Barrie shortly after our 4:00am departure as a large group. We were riding much too fast initially.

In the front of our group, I settled into riding with about 10 or so people who had split off from the front of the larger group. We ruthlessly left some behind who had to stop to pee and the group split even further. At the first water stop about 65km into the ride, I myself was left behind as the fastest riders continued without me. I was caught by the riders we abandoned during the pee stop, and we started riding together. At the time I did not know, but this was the group I ended up spending the majority of this event with: Greg C., Mike H., and Xinhua (Luke) L. I had ridden with Luke before in Toronto, and knew Mike was also an experienced rider from chatting with Fred C., but I had never met Greg who mentioned he had only done a 300km ride with the club previously. Initially, I thought that maybe he would struggle going from 300km to 1,200km ride.

A brevet card with many control stops listed at different distances. — The brevet card for Granite Anvil 2025. Riders must stop at each one of these control points and get a stamp or signature.

As we settled into a more comfortable pace together, at the 100km mark the reality of what we were doing began to set in for me. Day 1 alone was a 350km bike ride with more uphill riding than I had ever done in a single day. I just had to do this four times with minimal sleep, no big deal. I have read about people breaking down and crying from fatigue and exertion, and wondered if I would get to that point.

As we exited Barrie, we hit a number of beautiful areas in Ontario I'd never seen before. We arrived in Bala at 8:00am thanks to the fast initial pace. Luke had fallen behind us: he had a flat tire, and yelled for us to wait, but we didn't hear him and just shamelessly left him, though he would catch up with us again. Greg, Mike, and I grabbed a proper breakfast at a firefighter-themed diner. This was a good decision despite it taking a long time. Proper meals are essential for me on these long rides (although I find it too challenging to adhere to my normally vegetarian diet with the limited food options in many of these more rural areas). Many riders passed us and opted for quick grab-and-go stops instead. We would never see a handful of those riders again as they remained permanently ahead of us. Finishing times are greatly influenced by how long you faff around when you stop.

A man in a firefighter-themed diner holding two full water bottles — Mike fills his bottles at the diner in Bala.

Luke caught up with us, and the four of us began a particularly hard leg of the day's route, the portion from Bala to the small town of Dwight, where the next control was located. There was one brutal road with a number of very steep, short hills that seemed to go on forever (some above 18% gradient), then a patch of multiple kilometres of steep uphill gravel at the end. Luke and I rode hard through this section creating a small gap between ourselves and Greg and Mike. This was a bad decision, and I attribute some of the physical problems Luke and I both had later in this event to pushing too hard uphill over this long section. At this point our average speed had been over 28km/hr, which was fast for me given how much uphill riding we had done for the 200km we had already ridden. Luke had decided to ride his climbing bike, a Giant TCR, and I asked him if he thought it was the right decision as the gearing was pretty aggressive. He cheerily replied "yes" at the time. I myself was riding a gravel bike with slightly easier gearing which turned out to be almost perfect for this event (a 50/34 crank with an 11/36 cassette for the bike nerds, Luke had only an 11/32 cassette with the same 50/34 crank as me).

I tried to drink a Coffee Crisp flavoured milkshake while riding the gravel section that I had carried with me for 200km (also a stupid decision), and I spilled it all over myself and my bike, creating a world of stickiness that persisted on my handlebars and shifters until the end of the event. Once we finally hit Dwight, we caught number of the faster riders and had another large food stop grabbing sandwiches at a café. I ate with a rider from Michigan who had arrived at the cafe before us, and chatted with him as I inhaled two sandwiches and a ginger ale. At the time I did not know this, but this rider (Nick) currently held the world record for the fastest time at the 1,200km Paris-Brest-Paris event, the holy grail of randonneuring events that has been running every 4 years since 1891.

Bikes leaning against a wall at a café in Dwight, Ontario. — Erika's Café—our control in Dwight, Ontario, after a particularly hard section of rolling uphill roads on Day 1. The stupid milkshake I had carried all the way from Barrie only to spill all over myself 10 minutes before arriving at this café is still visible on the saddle bag on my bike. Photo credit Greg C.

After leaving Dwight, Luke went out with a group ahead of us and we didn't see him again until the end of the day. Mike, Greg, and I rode through a beautiful conservation area in Muskoka I had never heard of called Torrance Barrens, a dark-sky (no light) and land reserve filled with big, flat slabs of granite. I began to understand why this ride was called Granite Anvil. We then approached Algonquin park, which I had never actually been inside of. The view from the road was a bit underwhelming as it is just trees. Greg mentioned to me that there are still logging operations going on inside the park, which was a surprise to me. As we got out of the east gate of the park, the wind began to pick up unfavourably, and we spent a big chunk of the ride going into a strong headwind in cool, misty rain, which was mentally challenging. This is where I began to notice how strong a rider Greg was, as he sped off in front of me, out of sight. Mike was becoming frustrated with the weather and slowed down, so I rode alone for a while and listened to music for the first time, re-familiarizing myself with Luke Abbott's great 2010 album Holkham Drones. When I reached the Algonquin control, Greg was already there before me, and Mike arrived shortly after I arrived, a pattern which repeated itself at the following control at Whitney. While we ate some muffins and sweet snacks provided to us by the volunteers helping to manage the ride, a Washington DC-based rider named Dan H. also caught up with us. Dan, Greg, Mike, and I rode the remainder of the first day together.

When we eventually turned southward to head into Bancroft, things improved. The rain stopped and the wind was no longer blowing directly in our faces. And for the first time, we had some extended periods of downhill riding. Until then, the roads had been predominantly uphill. Dan motored ahead of us, and we'd never see him again. With Mike a short distance behind us, Greg and I arrived at the hotel before dark. Vytas, another long-time randonneur helping to organize the event I had ridden with on the flat 600km ride last year, signed our brevet cards and asked each of us who we were rooming with at the hotel, something neither Greg nor I had given any thought to. We decided to room together given that we had been riding a similar pace (although at this point I was certain Greg is a stronger rider than I am, and he could have surely taken off on his own at any time). We quickly ate some dinner that was graciously provided to us at the hotel, then prepared our gear for the following day's ride, knowing days 2 and 3 would be the most challenging. I ended day 1 at an average speed of 27km/hr, which was the fastest I had ever ridden 350km, and an accomplishment for me given the 4,000 metres of uphill riding. To put that in perspective, I rode a 140km training ride a week prior from Guelph to Dundas and back, up and down the escarpment twice, and this logged only 1,100 metres of climbing.

A cyclist begins a large downhill section in the scenic Canadian shield near Bancroft, Ontario. — What goes up must come down. Mike H. begins a long descent after a big climb. These descents were unlike anything I'd ridden in the Guelph/Kitchener-Waterloo area and were much longer and faster. Yes, we went up and down those other hills in the distance as well.

Day/Night 1 Summary

Total Sleep: 5 hours
Distance Ridden: 347 kilometres
Total Climbing: 3,958 metres

Day 2 - Bancroft Loop 1

Greg and I got up at 4:30am which did not feel like enough rest given the efforts of the previous day, but this was to be expected. I looked in the mirror and I already looked haggard—my eyes were completely bloodshot from riding without glasses, a stupid mistake as road debris was kicked up in the rain into my face. My eyes remained this way for 2 days and I looked absurd. I looked at the elevation and route profile on my phone for the day and was filled with terror. My achilles tendons were slightly sore, so I put some Voltaren Greg kindly shared with me on them preventatively to reduce the chances of developing tendonitis due to inflammation. Day 2 consisted of another 350km with even more climbing (4,000+ metres). My energy was already low from the previous day's efforts. We opted not to wait for a proper breakfast at the hotel, instead just grabbing some muffins and a coffee and stuffing our pockets with other food to eat while riding.

Moon and stars on the horizon of an uphill section of road. — Shortly after my departure from the hotel after 4 hours of sleep. The moon and stars are still out. Greg C.'s lights are ahead of me as we climb our way back out of Bancroft for the route's most technically challenging day with tons of uphill riding.

As we exited Bancroft, we had to go back up the huge downhill section we ended the ride with on the first day. It was cold and wet—the air was filled with a thick fog that lined the numerous valleys around Bancroft. It was very beautiful, but made the morning riding even more challenging. Greg began to pull away from me as we rode uphill for hours, and I was on my own as eventually he was out of sight. I looked down at my bike computer which read 6-degrees celsius, which explained why I felt so cold. Water dripped from my helmet. It turned out that Greg and I were among the first to leave the hotel this day, so for a period we were near the front of the group. The faster riders who had more sleep began to pass me as I went uphill. Serg T., a strong rider from Kitchener who I had ridden with just a couple weeks before in London, caught me and we chatted briefly about how hard the riding of the previous day had been. He mentioned he was going to take it easy and that day 2 would be a recovery ride for him, which made me laugh given that it was even harder and 350km long. We went down some amazing descents one after another. It was here I noticed that one of my shoes started to unclip accidentally—I almost slipped off my bike on one of the descents which was a bit scary. After a long downhill section, I saw a monstrous uphill climb ahead. The hills in the Guelph area never last more than a few minutes, nor reach any significant gradients. Even though the Guelph area is "hilly", it was this first hill where I realized the Bancroft area is in a totally different league. As I watched Serg ahead of me and saw how slow he was going, I knew we were hitting a monster. It was a very steep and long hill with long pitches of 14%, which I am not used to. I powered up it in my easiest gear, which was the first time I had to use gearing so low. I had chosen the right gearing setup.

The sun rising amongst pine trees and Canadian shield at the end of a road with more uphill in the horizon. — The sun rising as I climb yet another hill. I lost count very quickly of how many hills we went up in the day 2 route. At this point, Greg C. was at least a kilometre ahead of me and I was riding alone.

Fog lays amongst the trees in a valley near Bancroft, Ontario, with an uphill road in the distance. — Fog blanketed all the valleys we rode through on the morning of day 2. It was very pretty, but cold and wet.

A serene lake surrounded by pine trees viewed from the road, with no building or houses along its shorelines. — One of many lakes in the Bancroft area we passed. The lakes in this part of Ontario are totally serene and untouched by the real estate industry, making them very beautiful. Hopefully they remain this way. On my way back to Guelph after the event finished I drove past a sign that read "Don't wait to buy land, buy land and wait!" which made me die a little inside.

After climbing into a small town, I was greeted by some of the support volunteers alongside Greg. I was informed some of the faster riders had just been there previously, including Serg who never seems to stop for long, and Greg was kindly waiting for me as we were only a kilometre or so apart. We took our time at this break, and it was the first I learned of some riders abandoning the event on the morning of day 2. I began to worry about abandoning myself if some riders were already injured, as we still had a lot of hard riding to do.

Phil in cycling kit waving. — A photo Greg snapped of me at some point on day 2. I have no idea where or why I am in such a good mood (perhaps at the first stop after the big climb I followed Serg up). Note my bloodshot eyes and hair sticking out of my helmet. Photo credit Greg C.

I examined my shoes and noticed one of my cleats was totally broken, which is why I kept getting unclipped from my pedals. This problem got worse as the day went on and I had to ride awkwardly with one foot "sitting" in the pedal without being clipped in for the remainder of the day. I did not bring spare cleats and forgot to check this part of my setup before the event. I began to worry I would eventually develop weird pain from riding this way and have to abandon—the prospect of riding with a broken shoe for 700km was not a good one, but I pushed on.

The underside of a cycling shoe, with a very worn out and broken cleat. — My "good" cleat after the end of day 2. The other one had completely snapped near the toe area, making it impossible to clip into my pedals. This one was in no great shape either but somehow still working.

The next bit of riding was still hilly into the control at the town of Plevna, then we pushed on further to the next control at a small town called McDonald's Corners. It was during this section that Greg let slip that not only was he a seasoned mountain biker, but that he had completed the Tour Divide just two months ago at the age of 69, and even beat the cut-off time. For those unfamiliar with that event, it is a 4,000km+ self-supported mountain bike ride from Banff to the Mexico-US border over many mountain passes and through deserts. It's widely regarded as one of the most challenging (if not the most challenging) ultra-distance cycling event in the world. I was very impressed and was now certain that Greg could have left me at any point if he wanted to, and was humbled that he waited to ride with me as a team. We ordered sandwiches at a general store but it took forever and we lost some time; the store was much busier than usual with 30+ cyclists coming through ordering food amongst the locals. However, when the sandwiches did arrive, they were huge and provided a massive energy boost. I showed Jean, one of the support volunteers and a seasoned rider himself, my cleats, and he dutifully identified all the parts on my setup I should have replaced before a ride like this. The seemingly smallest mechanical issue can take you out in a route as rural as the one we were riding; there were no bike shops anywhere on this route.

The day had finally turned hot when we arrived at the next control in Calabogie. We'd been riding with Marc D. for a while but he was experiencing some achilles tendon pain and wanted to go at his own pace. Marc is from London, and I had ridden with him before—he is a very strong rider and I worried that if he was already experiencing achilles issues, that mine would also get worse. At the rest stop, we reconnected with Mike, who we had not seen all day and had been wondering if he was ahead or behind us. It turns out Mike had left the hotel at least an hour earlier than us which is why we didn't see him. I was glad he was still riding, and he joined up with us for the remainder of the day. The next half of this day was some of the most challenging riding I've done, with some serious hills. Somewhere after this control we also reconnected with Luke, and our small team was all back together.

Cyclist passing a farm on a ridge along the Canadian shield. — Greg C. and Mike H. pass alongside a nice farm nestled into a ridge. These types of properties were common along the day 2 route, some very beautiful. Luke L. and I follow closely behind.

We only had a single control point left in Combermere, then the final stop in Bancroft for the day 2 loop. I was completely unfamiliar with this part of Ontario and had no idea what was ahead, but Greg and Mike mentioned that Foymount was the highest point in south eastern Ontario, which lay just beyond the Combermere control. With that in mind, we pushed on. Luke informed us that he was having some knee pain and his knee looked swollen, but he was still riding at a strong pace. Once we arrived in the control at Combermere, a small park in a beautiful valley, one of the longest and steepest climbs of the entire event lay ahead of us. As we lay in the grass resting and drinking Cokes for energy, Jean, who was there again, read us a quote from Lance Armstrong to inspire us to push up the hill:

“Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever. That surrender, even the smallest act of giving up, stays with me. So when I feel like quitting, I ask myself, which would I rather live with?”

Although I did not have Lance's drugs or fresh blood to help keep me from quitting, Jean's delivery was comedically inspiring. So, we all pushed on together. As we reached the Foymount climb, it became clear how hard it was. Cars that went by us were even struggling to get up the hill and going less than 40km/hr. Strava tells me this is the second biggest single hill I've ever ridden up. The official Strava segment for this hill is 10.8km long and I averaged 12km/hr up it, to provide some context of its difficulty. However we were rewarded at the top with some beautiful historic farm properties—this area has not been ruined by the McMansion real estate develpers that are all over the Muskokas and around the GTA. In discussing that architectural style with Mike, he called it "Minecraft homes" which I think is a good name too.

We rode on, hitting more smaller climbs as the weather began to cool. We were all in good spirits and making good progress. We then hit a road called Letterkenny (which I was informed by Greg has problems with its signage being stolen regularly due to the famed TV show), and there were some massive steep climbs that we would actually repeat on day 3. I mentioned my cleat problem to Greg and he said he had a spare set of cleats in Bancroft. We determined they were the correct SPD-SL cleats I needed for my shoes, which was very fortunate. Greg's partner very kindly dropped them off at the hotel while we were riding and this alleviated some of my worries about shoe problems.

Mike H. and Luke L. descending into a valley as the sun is setting on day 2's route. We still had some very hard riding ahead of us at this point despite already covering over 250km of hilly terrain. As we approached 70km/hr speeds I had to put my phone away to grab the handlebars myself, not realizing how long the descent was.

The daylight began to fade, and we stopped to put on some layers and turn on our lights. Eventually we made a turn on to a road called Musclow-Greenview Road with a hill that sticks out to me as the most cruel of the event, possibly because we were already so tired, a 1.5km hill riddled with potholes with seriously steep gradients. On this climb alone I consumed two rice crispy squares, a granola bar, a muffin, and a bunch of gatorade. Luke stopped halfway up the climb to eat as well. We were all in serious caloric deficit at this point; it was about 9:00pm and we'd been riding since 5:00am or earlier. Mike yelled to us to ride on and he was going to climb at his own pace. Greg motored up the climb and we all became separated. We continued on this road that had some fast descents with lots of patched over pot holes, so we had to be careful not to flat.

Eventually we reached Bancroft in the dark at about 11:00pm, arriving in a staggered formation. All the other riders who were ahead of us had already eaten and were in bed, getting much needed sleep banked for the upcoming day. We all ate quickly and deliberated about when to leave the next morning, which was another 300km+ day with a lot of climbing. I also learned from the organizers that more riders had abandoned, a number that was slowly rising. Even though I wanted to go directly to sleep, I had to set up the new cleats on my shoes and test them to make sure I wouldn't be in severe foot pain the next day. Luckily, they worked as expected and I went to bed after taking a shower and plugging in all my electronics just like the previous day.

Day/Night 2 Summary

Total Sleep: 4 hours
Distance Ridden: 342 kilometres
Total Climbing: 4,090 metres

Day 3 - Bancroft Loop 2

Repeating our same routine again, we arose quickly and packed some breakfast type food with us after a quick coffee and some basic snacks. Mike, Greg, and I set off together, and a number of other riders were already well ahead of us.

I was beginning to feel real fatigue from the lack of sleep. I put my shorts on backwards without realizing it. As we took off I noted to Mike that my rear end felt particularly sore today as I sat on my saddle, not realizing it was because there was no padding underneath me from the shorts being the wrong way. It was not until 30km into the day that I realized my error. As we rode, Mike informed me he was doing the 1,000km version of the route, which I was not aware of. I was bummed we would not have his company on the final day. Greg and I were feeling good and rode hard initially on this day, as the first half of the route was much flatter relatively speaking (though still hilly by any regular Guelph standards I had). 30km in, I shamefully had to stop and get completely changed in the woods to rectify my shorts error. Greg politely waited for me and we rode on, with Mike somewhere behind us.

A cyclist riding uphill into the sun on a chipseal road surrounded by pine forests. — Me riding uphill (again) on the morning of day 3. Most of the roads on this route were very smooth and well maintained, but this one was rough chipseal. I had began riding stiff-armed as you can see here to try to avoid neck and shoulder pain that comes with riding in a lower position, even though it's slower going. Photo credit Greg C.

We began catching riders who had left earlier than us, many of them had already abandoned the full ride either from injury or from the difficultly of day 2, but had rested enough and wanted to continue riding anyways, admirably. I checked the tracker to see where Luke was as I hadn't seen him that morning. He was well behind us but still moving, I thought he would catch up to us at one of our rest stops eventually, but his lingering knee pain would cause him to abandon the full route shortly into the day 3 ride. At the end of the event, Luke mentioned he thought the TCR was the wrong bike, despite his earlier confidence. Sometimes the faster bike is not the best choice for distance riding, despite all the bike marketing out there. Our original team of four was just down to Greg and I and we had 400km to go.

We rode towards Barry's Bay, and were provided much needed Subway sandwiches at the first control of the day by Brenda, Tim, and Darcy, for which I was grateful. Sandwiches were proving to be a great fuel for the ride and I'd had zero stomach issues despite having 6 coffees or more per day and an inhuman amount of food. We chatted for a while at that control, taking or time to rest, and Tim and Darcy both mentioned they had abandoned due to back and knee pain, respectively, although both had ridden well into day 2's difficult route completing hundreds of kilometres. Tim and Greg are both retired doctors; I felt good to be in the company of medical professionals on such a taxing ride and tried not to ask them stupid questions like "why do I have a headache?" or "what is knee pain, really?". Tim told us a story about having to pay steel tariffs on two small pins that were sent to him from American riders as a thank you from a previous event. What time to be alive.

Two cyclists sitting in camping chairs in the shade of a building eating subway sandwiches in their cycling kit. — Greg C. and I eating subs at the Madawaska control before Barry's Bay on day 3 about 125km into our 307km route this day. We were in good spirits as the first half of the day 3 route seemed much flatter and easier than the previous two days. However we knew the second half would be much more challenging. Photo credit Tim O.

As Greg and I rode on, eventually we were caught by a rider name Sean K., whose name I recognized from finishing times on Toronto brevets. At one point we rode by a Pentecostal Cemetery and Greg yelled "Don't go burying your Catholics in there!" which made me laugh, as I had mentioned to him earlier in the day that some of my family was raised Catholic. Sean was a strong rider—he had started his day later but caught up to us. We began riding together, and Sean and Greg took off at a fierce pace, leaving me behind. I wondered for a moment if this might be the beginning of riding alone, still with over 350km remaining, but they waited for me at the next control where we drank more Cokes and noted that we had the hardest part of the day to go still—100km of climbs through the same hilly area as the very challenging Foymount climb from the previous day. In retrospect, I am not sure looking at the elevation profile mid-ride is good for your motivation and would probably just avoid it next time...counting the climbs to go in the Bancroft area is like counting the number of bozos driving F-150s and lifted RAMs that pass you too closely.

On that note, we encountered some of the worst drivers of the ride descending from a big climb towards Foymount between the last two controls. Sean was coasting speedily ahead of us, and we watched two cars try to pass him blindly without slowing down. Another car was coming up the hill, and one of the passing drivers got spooked and swung sideways nearly hitting Sean into the shoulder. It's amazing how many drivers blind pass without caring about oncoming traffic, and unfortunately cyclists are the ones most at risk from this terrible driving behaviour. I could rant about cars, but I will leave it at that. For the most part, Bancroft has more pleasant drivers than Barrie or the GTA.

We arrived at the second last control, a sandy shoulder patch near the road, and Sean noted we should ride as a team to get back to the hotel before 10:00pm. A psychotic man in a passing car yelled "no parking!" at all of us even though we were literally in the middle of nowhere well away from the road. Once we rolled out, Sean promptly sped off ahead of us and we didn't see him again for the rest of the day. As soon as I stepped on my bike after this control, I noticed my right achilles tendon was very sore and started exhibiting a crunching feeling. I asked Greg what caused that, and he mentioned it was from fluid in the sheath surrounding the tendon leaking out due to inflammation. I've had achilles tendonitis before and it took over a month to heal, so I wasn't particularly happy as we still had a day and a third of hard riding left. I had to soft-pedal for the rest of day 3, including up more brutal climbs, but Greg kindly went my pace and did not leave me behind despite my insistence that he should go on ahead of me so he could get more sleep.

Cyclist at a support stop on the side of the road being provided with snacks. — Support volunteer Peter hands out snacks to myself and Sean K at the Foymount control on day 3. This was the end of me being able to ride at a normal pace. From here on out I had achilles tendon pain that never subsided and had to ride a lot more slowly. Photo credit Greg C.

It got dark, and our 10:00pm hotel return goal seemed to be drifting out of reach due to how slow I had to pedal to avoid aggravating my tendon pain. Eventually we turned onto a highway going back towards Bancroft, and Greg mentioned there were now just a couple "rollers" left on the route. Greg's definition of "rollers" is much different than mine—we had to ride up multiple 6%-ish grades that seemed to go on forever in the dark. I swear we even did the same one twice in a row because I was so tired and everything looked the same in the dark on an 80km/hr speed limited highway.

Eventually we were in striking distance of the hotel. It's amazing how 15km from a destination you get a mental boost and all the previous pain you're feeling becomes irrelevant and you can push through it. During the last downhill back into Bancroft, Greg let out a loud "woo!" out of nowhere to celebrate the completion of such a challenging day, and it was so unexpected I jumped and nearly veered into a pothole.

Day 3, despite being 40km shorter than days 1 and 2, was exceptionally difficult and the day I began feeling true pain. True pain is the type of pain you know will get worse, not better. Having only done back-to-back ultra distance rides once before, this was what I expected, but it still hurt. When we arrived at the hotel, I was happy to learn it was only 10:40pm which was only 40 minutes later than the goal we made when riding with Sean. We quickly ate dinner and went to bed, in good spirits knowing the hardest part of the route was now behind us.

Day/Night 3 Summary

Total Sleep: 5 hours
Distance Ridden: 307 kilometres
Total Climbing: 3,747 metres

A large downhill view towards a lake at the bottom of a valley in the Canadian shield. — Another long downhill section typical of this ride. Of course, we had ridden up this first. This one had a nice lake right at the bottom of the valley.

A cyclist rides along the ridge of a farm road at sunset, with a farm in view below. — Greg C. riding along near the top of day 3's longest climb as the sun begins to set, another road out of Combermere with some beautiful farm properties. It's hard to tell at this angle, but the farm in the background is actually on the same road we are on with a long driveway many metres below.

A cyclist riding in the country at sunset approaching a curvy uphill section. — As we rode up this Combermere climb, Greg mentioned to me that there had been a road race years ago with this road included coming the opposite direction. Some riders were going way too fast around the corner Greg is approaching from the other side and crashed over the shoulder into the field below. While this climb was very long, the descent we were greeted with on the other side was one of the longest and most fun of the entire route.

A road lit by a bike light at night going uphill. — Another uphill section as the day turns to dark. We did a fair bit of riding lit only by bike lights. Good, reliable lights are essential on long rides like this.

Day 4 - Bancroft to Barrie

We finally had a proper breakfast before day 4's route; a hot meal at the hotel that was kindly provided to all riders. Greg and I left again together but later than planned, which left us at the back of the pack. A number of riders who had abandoned the whole route were riding back today as well, so there were more of us on the road which was a nice morale boost. Even though this was the "easiest" day, I was still a bit concerned about my tendons as riding over 200km with tendon pain is no easy task. However, I was able to manage it for the most part.

As we took off, Greg and I rode about 500 metres apart. He was familiar with all the roads of the day having ridden them before, but I was going at a slower pace and taking in the scenery from Bancroft to Kinmount, where the first control was located. The Bancroft area has many serene lakes that are untouched by human development for the most part; the first half of the route was beautiful.

A road along a lake with a pine-covered hill in the background — A lake characteristic of the first half of the day 4 route on the way to the Kinmount control.

Unfortunately, we had a moderate headwind for the entire 213km of this day's ride as we were going west the entire day, which made it hard, so again we were faced with a challenge. I had been hoping this day would be easier. We passed some riders who had left before us, including a number of riders who were completing the 1300km version of the route. I did not envy the extra 100km they had to ride when we got back to Barrie, despite the more generous time limit.

A road approaching the town sign for a town called Uphill, Ontario. — The sign for Uphill, Ontario, en route to Orillia. I think every rider took a photo of this sign as it exemplified the entire ride. Earlier we passed two towns directly beside one another whose slogans both claimed to be the geocaching capital of Canada. We also rode by a really unfortunately named town called "Dongola". Overall this was a weird area.

I was fortunate enough to leapfrog John C. and Michael T. throughout the ride this day. They had both abandoned the full ride and decided to ride back to Barrie anyways. John C. I had met earlier in the year—he stayed up until 2:00am at his house and let us pop by on our route during a 24-hour non-stop event called the Flèche, which I had ridden on a team with Fred C. in the spring. When we arrived, John was sitting in the dark with the barbecue going and a bowl of bananas; I thought it was a very nice gesture. Michael T. had come up from Colorado to do this event, which I was impressed with.

We reached the first control in Kinmount at a slower pace than the previous days, but our morale was improving as Greg and I only had just over 100km to go to complete the entire route. There was a great gang of riders in Kinmount taking their time at the control; I had a coffee and sat in the grass and Luke and Mike, who were now traveling by car and helping to support the event, were both there. We had a small team reunion and caught up with them. Mike had finished his 1,000km total the night before and did not need to ride today; in doing so completed his R10000 award, which is impressive.

Jean & Bob were at the control again; Jean yelled to us that if we wanted to see what "true sportsmen" looked like, that we should look across the street. I did so, and there was a fleet of 20-ish large tattooed white men riding ATVs getting ready to set off on some trails. I laughed. Some of us had earlier discussed whether or not motorsports are truly a sport; my personal opinion is no, they are more like a circus game. That said, I had actually watched a documentary about the 24-hour LeMans race in France earlier this year, and it confirmed my opinion that Michelin and Continental make the best tires because the million-dollar race cars use them.

A group of cyclists in front of a shop and a support vehicle. — The control in Kinmount. On the right, Marc D. and Mike H. in support mode, while Greg, Sean K., and myself are in the background relaxing. I am even getting a neck massage courtesy of Luke. Here I also met the Buchanan sisters (left) who were very friendly and rode with us most of the way to Barrie. Photo Credit John C.

We set off again to complete the final 113km—mentally I was excited to be nearing the finish, but you can't just snap your fingers and complete 113km on a bike; at the pace we were going it would still be well over 4 or 5 hours of riding. My achilles tendons were really bothering me—at this point, both of them were now swollen and sore. I took a bunch of Ibuprofen and Tums; for the tendon pain and thigh muscle cramps I knew were now on their way.

The last stretch of this ride was mentally the hardest for me of any day. It was totally flat, and on a terribly busy highway with brutal drivers, into the wind. When I look down at my bike computer after making a turn and it says there is no other turn for at least 30km, I start swearing. I had to stop for the first time due to pain to take a break in between controls; I slathered more Voltaren on my achilles' and took more pills. The pain was always there but not so extreme that I was thinking of abandoning—we were way to close to the end to give up now.

We finally hit a hill that brought us into the small town of Sebright. I have to say that the Haliburton/Kawartha area from Kinmount to Orillia, at least on the road we were on, is definitely not on the top of my list for Ontario cottage country destinations. It's mostly flat, not very scenic, and filled with terrible drivers.

At Sebright, we stopped in at a family-run general store that had a food truck next to it. John C. and Michael T. were already there and said they were going to take a leisurely food stop; which I welcomed, so Greg and I decided to do the same. The food truck offered a weird mix of "Canadian" food like burgers and Chinese food. Michael ordered a poutine and fried rice; a fairly puzzling order, and when it arrived, it was an unholy amount of food he couldn't finish. The vibe at the food truck was pretty weird; it was staffed by what I am assuming were two brothers; the younger one took orders and the older cooked. The older one was in a terrible mood and yelling at his brother extremely meanly; I felt bad for him, and also wondered if food being cooked by someone filled with so much rage would taste good. My bar for food quality on a ride like this is pretty low though; I was used to eating Tim Horton's multiple times per day on previous brevets, so anything other than that was a luxury to me. As we ate a small woman in a pickup truck with the word "Rebel" painted all over it began chatting with us. The Buchanan sisters donated their uneaten food to her for her small dog to eat, who was waiting in the pickup truck. Just a regular day in Sebright.

A group of cyclists sitting on the edge of a deck eating takeout food. — John C., Michael T. and Tony (who had joined today's ride after providing support volunteering on the previous days) in the foreground eat their food truck fare. In the background I drink a Pepsi to change it up. Tony joked that the Buchanan sisters had paid him $50 to pull them into Orillia. I couldn't tell if he was serious or not. Photo credit John C.

A screenshot of the route of the 2025 edition of the Granite Anvil from Strava — John C., Michael T. and Tony (who had joined today's ride after providing support volunteering on the previous days) in the foreground eat their food truck fare. In the background I drink a Pepsi to change it up. Tony joked that the Buchanan sisters had paid him $50 to pull them into Orillia. I couldn't tell if he was serious or not. Photo credit John C.