It's new year's eve. The tradition on new years is to take stock of the year, decide what has gone well and where you need to improve, and carry that enthusiasm for change into the coming year. But the truth is, i'm too excited about the year ahead to spend long looking back on the past 12 months. As a cursory nod to this most incontravertible tradition, however, i can give a month-by-month review of the year.
January - snow, move, cold, tired, no riding.
February - work, learn, learn more, still cold, ride a bit. Race - mud.
March - sudden warm, ride more, Race- mud, mechanical, Race2 - dry, fast, flat, boring. April - ride with new friends, race with old friends, discover Kemback
May - birthday, more riding, great weather, tanlines
June - Transgermany, crap weather, more riding, great views
July - Rain rain go away, more mechanicals
August - Lost for what to do
September - December: 3 Peaks, blurrrrrr...
Next Year poses something of a change for me, and for the XC community as a whole. The regionalisation of the NPS is a fantastic opportunity for the improvement of racing in the UK, but i suspect its implementation will be less than perfect, and realistically it could represent an initial step backwards for XC. This conveniently coincides with a shift of focus for Team AW as a whole, and also a certain level of, not boredom exactly, but lack of enthusiasm for XC for me. The coming season then will be built around other things. In the main they are: Gorrick Spring Series (these races i'm hoping will form the cornerstone of my early-season speed development - the quality of the Elite/Expert fields almost automatically designates me as an also-ran!), Crystal Palace Crit Series (they're amazingly close to home, and i've always wanted to be able to race crits for training and a bit of bunch-racing practice), CRC Marathon series (well the middle three that don't clash with other grander aims), and then selected other races.
These come mostly from my wishlist of races i have wanted to do for a long time, and in no particular order are:
Roc Lassagais - Part of the UCI Marathon Series in the Cevennes National Park
Stategg Marathon - Another UCI race, but based in Switzerland
Grand Raid Cristalp - depending on how work commitments work out, i really want to give this one a go next year
Kielder 100 - Has to be done again, it really bothered me missing it last year.
But it all kicks off tomorrow, the first race of 2012 is also on the first day - and probably the closest of the whole year too, as Rachel and I head over to Herne Hill to race the new year's day madison. From there, it's a slow, gradual build to April where my rather modest aim is to not be last....
Saturday, 31 December 2011
Sunday, 18 December 2011
Reviews for 2011
TRP CX9 Brakes
Having first noticed the world-cup mtber and technology early-adopter Adam Craig racing 'cross with these brakes a couple of years ago, i have to admit i was intrigued. The old-fashioned logic for 'cross brakes is that the mud clearance afforded by cantis is so much better than even though a v-brake offers more braking power, this is outweighed by their tendency to clog. However, the british cross season is getting earlier each year, and with four races done in a lot of the local leagues by the end of september, there are an increasing number of "dirt crit" races on the calendar, where powerful, confidence-inspiring brakes are really important. For me, the kick i needed to invest in something a bit stronger than my classic froglegs was having my entry to the three peaks accepted. The race in Yorks really doesn't tend to get that muddy (although there were one or two choice exceptions in this year's course after a week of rain), but you definitely want brakes that can scrub off some speed quickly when decending 700m peaks.
First test rides on the Lomond Hills confirmed that they gave better, more stable braking than the froglegs, and even on the wettest, muddiest days, the closer approach of the pad to the rim didn't cause problems. You go faster when you know you can go slower...
Descente Winter Gloves
These were bought for me by my colleagues at TT Electronics before i left, well, they got me the wiggle vouchers i bought them with! They were an absolute godsend up in Scotland, and have made riding even on the coldest days comfortable in the hand department. I don't have the best circulation, and have always found that tight-fitting gloves, whilst excellent for control in the first 10 minutes of a ride, are utterly useless for control when your hands are freezing and feel like a bag of useless sausages anyway! It was with previous experiences of gloves like this in mind that i opted for the waterproof, windproof and rather well fleece-lined, but perhaps rather large and less digit-hugging descente winter gloves. They have performed admirably through two tough winters, and left me with nairy a chilly fingertip over that time - thank goodness it's time to put them away again now though!
High5 Iso Gels
Having been given several boxes of these by AWcycles to get us through our respective summers of racing, Rachel and I amazed ourselves by getting through more or less all of them (apart from a few caffeine-supplemented offerings) by October. The big idea behind the ISO gel is that they're designed to be used with minimal requirement for extra water - most gels recommend that you take on extra fluid with them, in some cases up to 250ml per gel! They're pretty easy to take as they are a lot more fluid than most gels (particularly good for cold days and cross races), although they're not ones to carry with you and not take, as the packaging is a bit fragile, and if you manage to puncture it and leave it in a warm place it tastes pretty rank! Easy on the stomach, i reckon they're a good bet as long as you're not out for a loooong time, as they're pretty heavy per calorie!
Sportful Base Layers
I have become a bit of a fan of sportful kit, they make nice, understated but stylishly Italian kit that doesn't cost the earth. Their undervests are particularly good, wicking sweat away from your skin fast to stop you from getting irritated skin, and runners/cyclists nipple. They're cut nicely so they don't bunch during long rides, and possibly the ultimate compliment i can give is that you just put them on and go. They'll be coming with me to Europe in the coming summer, that's for sure!
Having first noticed the world-cup mtber and technology early-adopter Adam Craig racing 'cross with these brakes a couple of years ago, i have to admit i was intrigued. The old-fashioned logic for 'cross brakes is that the mud clearance afforded by cantis is so much better than even though a v-brake offers more braking power, this is outweighed by their tendency to clog. However, the british cross season is getting earlier each year, and with four races done in a lot of the local leagues by the end of september, there are an increasing number of "dirt crit" races on the calendar, where powerful, confidence-inspiring brakes are really important. For me, the kick i needed to invest in something a bit stronger than my classic froglegs was having my entry to the three peaks accepted. The race in Yorks really doesn't tend to get that muddy (although there were one or two choice exceptions in this year's course after a week of rain), but you definitely want brakes that can scrub off some speed quickly when decending 700m peaks.
First test rides on the Lomond Hills confirmed that they gave better, more stable braking than the froglegs, and even on the wettest, muddiest days, the closer approach of the pad to the rim didn't cause problems. You go faster when you know you can go slower...
Descente Winter Gloves
These were bought for me by my colleagues at TT Electronics before i left, well, they got me the wiggle vouchers i bought them with! They were an absolute godsend up in Scotland, and have made riding even on the coldest days comfortable in the hand department. I don't have the best circulation, and have always found that tight-fitting gloves, whilst excellent for control in the first 10 minutes of a ride, are utterly useless for control when your hands are freezing and feel like a bag of useless sausages anyway! It was with previous experiences of gloves like this in mind that i opted for the waterproof, windproof and rather well fleece-lined, but perhaps rather large and less digit-hugging descente winter gloves. They have performed admirably through two tough winters, and left me with nairy a chilly fingertip over that time - thank goodness it's time to put them away again now though!
High5 Iso Gels
Having been given several boxes of these by AWcycles to get us through our respective summers of racing, Rachel and I amazed ourselves by getting through more or less all of them (apart from a few caffeine-supplemented offerings) by October. The big idea behind the ISO gel is that they're designed to be used with minimal requirement for extra water - most gels recommend that you take on extra fluid with them, in some cases up to 250ml per gel! They're pretty easy to take as they are a lot more fluid than most gels (particularly good for cold days and cross races), although they're not ones to carry with you and not take, as the packaging is a bit fragile, and if you manage to puncture it and leave it in a warm place it tastes pretty rank! Easy on the stomach, i reckon they're a good bet as long as you're not out for a loooong time, as they're pretty heavy per calorie!
Sportful Base Layers
I have become a bit of a fan of sportful kit, they make nice, understated but stylishly Italian kit that doesn't cost the earth. Their undervests are particularly good, wicking sweat away from your skin fast to stop you from getting irritated skin, and runners/cyclists nipple. They're cut nicely so they don't bunch during long rides, and possibly the ultimate compliment i can give is that you just put them on and go. They'll be coming with me to Europe in the coming summer, that's for sure!
Friday, 9 December 2011
The New New Life
So here i am in London. I freely admit that i'm not much of a soothsayer, but i never saw that coming! It seems simultaneously a very long time since i interviewed for a job in St Andrews, and also about five minutes ago. In the last year, i have gone from having a sensible, stable and perhaps most importantly a permanent job with a tech firm in the Cambridge area, to living "proper" village life in rural Fife on a 3-year postdoc contract, to living in suburban London and working on the UCL campus. It's been a whirlwind, i can tell you. Would i change anything. Honestly, probably no.
It's been five weeks since Rachel and I moved south, although she spent a month down here ahead of me "sofa-surfing" with friends, and trying to find us somewhere to live. Five weeks has passed so fast it's not even funny. I have made new friends where i work, caught up with old ones i haven't seen in years, and discovered that it is possible to exercise in London without getting run over, stabbed, or one and then the other. The hills of Kent will likely be my new playground, and although they lack some of the grandeur i have become accustomed to in Scotland, they can provide a stern test of less-than-race fit legs.
My last races up north were the wondefully named "Hairy Coo" xc race at Comrie Croft, run by the equally-wonderfully-named Drovers Tryst, which was run off on a tough little purpose-built course in very Scottish (muddy and with horizontal rain) conditions, followed by a longer looped ride around Glen Tarkie on the sunday. The latter managed to wash the mud out of my eyes from the former, but unfortunately i got a stomach bug from all the grit that had me laid up for a couple of days. I finished 10th in the Hairy Coo, which was won by north-of-the-border stalwart Gareth Montgomerie, and was in 3rd place in the Sunday marathon when i was mis-directed, and ended up doing an extra lap of Glen Tarkie. Ooops.
To blow away the moving cobwebs, Rachel and I decided to sign up for the first round of the Brass Monkeys enduro. It was a total change of scene compared to my previous experiences, there were hundreds of people on the start line, the course was dry, fast and twisty as opposed to being up hill and down dale, and it was nigh impossible to go the wrong way! The general standard of riding was noticeably different too, with southerners clearly favouring fitness over skill in their training, as bottle necks at every tricky section on the first lap proved! Perhaps it was the sheer number of people out on course, and the extra speed that you could get out of your bike on the less epic terrain, but people seemed less friendly and less inclined to let faster riders through too, apparently one guy even challenged someone to a fight for daring to pass! None of these things have ever bothered me much in the past about racing in England, so i must just be oversensitive having had an entirely different experience in Scotland! I tootled around not-really-racing with my lack of fitness on display for all the world to see, and came in a lap down on former teamie Tim Dunford who took a commanding lead in his new Cannondale colours. Rachel got to stand on the box in her race, coming in 3rd and obviously showing less ill effects from moving than me (i like to think....)!
So we're settled. Home is where your bikes rest. Life in London seems simultaneously alien and very familiar; there are unwritten codes to everything from sitting on the bus to cycle commuting that i am only beginning to learn. I keep making the mistake of smiling at people in the street, a hangover from a past life in Arncroach, only to have them avert their eyes from the obvious lunatic. In time, i'll get to grips with it. As Baz Luhrmann says "Live in London once, but leave before it makes you hard" -{Deleted take}.
It's been five weeks since Rachel and I moved south, although she spent a month down here ahead of me "sofa-surfing" with friends, and trying to find us somewhere to live. Five weeks has passed so fast it's not even funny. I have made new friends where i work, caught up with old ones i haven't seen in years, and discovered that it is possible to exercise in London without getting run over, stabbed, or one and then the other. The hills of Kent will likely be my new playground, and although they lack some of the grandeur i have become accustomed to in Scotland, they can provide a stern test of less-than-race fit legs.
My last races up north were the wondefully named "Hairy Coo" xc race at Comrie Croft, run by the equally-wonderfully-named Drovers Tryst, which was run off on a tough little purpose-built course in very Scottish (muddy and with horizontal rain) conditions, followed by a longer looped ride around Glen Tarkie on the sunday. The latter managed to wash the mud out of my eyes from the former, but unfortunately i got a stomach bug from all the grit that had me laid up for a couple of days. I finished 10th in the Hairy Coo, which was won by north-of-the-border stalwart Gareth Montgomerie, and was in 3rd place in the Sunday marathon when i was mis-directed, and ended up doing an extra lap of Glen Tarkie. Ooops.
To blow away the moving cobwebs, Rachel and I decided to sign up for the first round of the Brass Monkeys enduro. It was a total change of scene compared to my previous experiences, there were hundreds of people on the start line, the course was dry, fast and twisty as opposed to being up hill and down dale, and it was nigh impossible to go the wrong way! The general standard of riding was noticeably different too, with southerners clearly favouring fitness over skill in their training, as bottle necks at every tricky section on the first lap proved! Perhaps it was the sheer number of people out on course, and the extra speed that you could get out of your bike on the less epic terrain, but people seemed less friendly and less inclined to let faster riders through too, apparently one guy even challenged someone to a fight for daring to pass! None of these things have ever bothered me much in the past about racing in England, so i must just be oversensitive having had an entirely different experience in Scotland! I tootled around not-really-racing with my lack of fitness on display for all the world to see, and came in a lap down on former teamie Tim Dunford who took a commanding lead in his new Cannondale colours. Rachel got to stand on the box in her race, coming in 3rd and obviously showing less ill effects from moving than me (i like to think....)!
So we're settled. Home is where your bikes rest. Life in London seems simultaneously alien and very familiar; there are unwritten codes to everything from sitting on the bus to cycle commuting that i am only beginning to learn. I keep making the mistake of smiling at people in the street, a hangover from a past life in Arncroach, only to have them avert their eyes from the obvious lunatic. In time, i'll get to grips with it. As Baz Luhrmann says "Live in London once, but leave before it makes you hard" -{Deleted take}.
Tuesday, 4 October 2011
Playing Catch-up
The title of my post summarises how life has felt since i last wrote here nearly two months ago! Since then, i have done the Scottish champs off the back of my first conference as a condensed matter theorist, followed by eight days in the Hebrides, and then my most & least favourite race of the year, the 3 Peaks Cyclocross. Since then, it's been all-go, i've been trying to fix all the bikes i have incapacitated over the course of the season, glue tubs on cyclocross wheelsets, and clean, tidy and pack the house in anticipation of my second move in a year at the end of the month. Just the thought of all this is leaving me a little tired, and perhaps no wonder! So, let's begin at the beginning.
Up first, the Scottish Champs. I spent the week before the race in my old home town of Cambridge at a conference which involved days spent in seminar rooms, and several lates nights discussing physics (and maybe a few beers). I had initially hoped that i might be able to do the Kielder 100 for the third year on the trot, but the logistics just didn't work out - there was physically no way i could get to the event in time for the start! So my consolation prize was to be the scottish xc champs the day after at Drumlanrig Castle. And what a consolation - i love the venue at Drumlanrig, it's a beautiful setting for a race, and the trails are absolutely superb (even if the last time Rachel and I came here, we had some car-related issues!). The course was pretty familiar from the NPS there in 2008, with many of the same sections (the best bits) laced together in a different order. My only slight complaint would be that the chicken line for one of the tech sections was actually faster than the drop - surely the wrong way around!
Having watched as Rachel raced to a bronze medal in the elite women's race, being beaten by two Commonwealth Games athletes (albeit roadies, pah pah), i started my race with pretty low expectations. The lap was a long one, so it was just my hope to just finish the full race distance before a flying GT rider lapped me (although i didn't know which one...). I felt pitifully slow on the climbs, but was enjoying letting go with the anthem on the rough stuff, and aside from a particularly rude masters rider who spent a while shouting abuse behind me before shoulder-barging me into a tree, my race passed without much company and without much incident. The faster sport riders came storming past, politely i hasten to add, and i just avoided Dave H catching me for a lap to complete the full race distance, albeit in a maratho 2.5hrs! On the plus side, i did break my duck at a scottish race, i finished without mechanical incident, and without getting lapped. A result of sorts!
A fantastic holiday of walking, cycling and generally enjoying the great outdoors in the Outer Hebrides was next on the menu, and is probably the reason i'm not totally insane now. We were unfortunately spared the beautiful views from the top of the only Corbett in the Hebrides by the diabolical weather, but climbing An Clisham sounded like a good plan to prepare for the 3 peaks. Some fantastic sunny days followed, including one spent cycling around the isle of Harris (and buying Harris Tweed...), and getting caught up in a sheep-based traffic jam ensued, and whilst it might not have been perfect preparation, i felt like i was at least able to stomp uphills a little better for what waited next.
The 3 Peaks has been my traditional season-closer - by august, i'm usually sick of XC racing and yearn for something a bit different, which makes it relatively easy to choose between a long trip to Newnham (as great as the course is) and a shorter one to do what is almost certainly the most wacky bike race in the UK! This year was no exception, and as soon as the last round of the scottish xc series was out of the way in July, i told myself that i would concentrate on preparing solely for this race. Rachel and I had a go at hiking up hills with bikes on our shoulders in the Lomonds, and perhaps more importantly tried out our new mini-v brakes coming back down the steep sheep tracks, and through August things seemed to be going pretty well. I intended to start running again, but never really found the time with trying to get some serious work done in my research life, and Rachel's job with Fife council it never really came together. Somewhere in the midst of this i also discovered i was going to move again, this time to London. I'm not sure quite where my enthusiasm for riding my bike went, but certainly the fun in intervals and training hard seemed to have more or less totally evaporated by the beginning of September, and maybe i should have left it there!
Instead, i decided that i had taken an entry for the race, the least i could do (since the organisers returned 150 entries this year!) was to race as best i could so i didn't take the spot of someone more deserving! After a night spent in the field next to the Helwith Bridge pub, race morning dawned grey and overcast. I wasn't worried, both the 3 peaks races i have done previously have been grey and overcast mornings, and have turned into beautiful days out on dry, fast ground. A bit of rain saw us away from the start, and made the sketchy 6 miles on the road a little more nervy with a pack of 600 riders. In spite of much tinkering with my cross bike, i'd had to make a last minute switch of wheels to a spare set with less than appropriate 32mm challenge tubs on (my rear tufo t34 having inexplicably sprung a leak when i was cleaning the bike on saturday morning!). On top of that, the longer chain i had fitted to cope with the 50T front ring, and a 32T rear sprocket decided that the wet was reason enough to fall off. Repeatedly. Before the off road had even begun. Cue a few maternally disapproving comments from Isla Rowntree about the quality of my bike maintenance.
Once we hit the first offroad section at Gill Garth, it was clear that this year was not going to be like the previous times i had done the race. The ground was sodden, and the going very tough. It set the tone for the whole race really, and as fun as it was riding a hugely inappropriate bike through the tough terrain of the yorkshire dales, i just didn't have the drive i had two years ago. My lack of running fitness really hit home as i came across fellow twitterer Dave Haygarth on the descent off Pen-y-Gent; the final one of the three peaks and more of a "riders" climb. He had had an off on the slippery top section, and broken his collarbone, and in spite of spending a lot of time grimacing by the side of the track (you would hope, or he just wouldn't be human!) and then making his way gingerly down the rest of the offroad, he still came in at the same time as me - 4h10m.
Nick Craig made the most of the absence of Rob Jebb to take a runaway victory from Neal Crampton who bettered his previous best with second place. Within a couple of days, the soreness had subsided, and i found myself thinking ahead to next year, when i'll be a bit more settled, and it'll mark the beginning of my first ever "proper" cross season (as opposed to the odd race here and there...).
So time is ticking by, it's less than a month until i move south to start all over again, and it seems like there's an awful lot to do. Better get packing...
Up first, the Scottish Champs. I spent the week before the race in my old home town of Cambridge at a conference which involved days spent in seminar rooms, and several lates nights discussing physics (and maybe a few beers). I had initially hoped that i might be able to do the Kielder 100 for the third year on the trot, but the logistics just didn't work out - there was physically no way i could get to the event in time for the start! So my consolation prize was to be the scottish xc champs the day after at Drumlanrig Castle. And what a consolation - i love the venue at Drumlanrig, it's a beautiful setting for a race, and the trails are absolutely superb (even if the last time Rachel and I came here, we had some car-related issues!). The course was pretty familiar from the NPS there in 2008, with many of the same sections (the best bits) laced together in a different order. My only slight complaint would be that the chicken line for one of the tech sections was actually faster than the drop - surely the wrong way around!
Having watched as Rachel raced to a bronze medal in the elite women's race, being beaten by two Commonwealth Games athletes (albeit roadies, pah pah), i started my race with pretty low expectations. The lap was a long one, so it was just my hope to just finish the full race distance before a flying GT rider lapped me (although i didn't know which one...). I felt pitifully slow on the climbs, but was enjoying letting go with the anthem on the rough stuff, and aside from a particularly rude masters rider who spent a while shouting abuse behind me before shoulder-barging me into a tree, my race passed without much company and without much incident. The faster sport riders came storming past, politely i hasten to add, and i just avoided Dave H catching me for a lap to complete the full race distance, albeit in a maratho 2.5hrs! On the plus side, i did break my duck at a scottish race, i finished without mechanical incident, and without getting lapped. A result of sorts!
A fantastic holiday of walking, cycling and generally enjoying the great outdoors in the Outer Hebrides was next on the menu, and is probably the reason i'm not totally insane now. We were unfortunately spared the beautiful views from the top of the only Corbett in the Hebrides by the diabolical weather, but climbing An Clisham sounded like a good plan to prepare for the 3 peaks. Some fantastic sunny days followed, including one spent cycling around the isle of Harris (and buying Harris Tweed...), and getting caught up in a sheep-based traffic jam ensued, and whilst it might not have been perfect preparation, i felt like i was at least able to stomp uphills a little better for what waited next.
The 3 Peaks has been my traditional season-closer - by august, i'm usually sick of XC racing and yearn for something a bit different, which makes it relatively easy to choose between a long trip to Newnham (as great as the course is) and a shorter one to do what is almost certainly the most wacky bike race in the UK! This year was no exception, and as soon as the last round of the scottish xc series was out of the way in July, i told myself that i would concentrate on preparing solely for this race. Rachel and I had a go at hiking up hills with bikes on our shoulders in the Lomonds, and perhaps more importantly tried out our new mini-v brakes coming back down the steep sheep tracks, and through August things seemed to be going pretty well. I intended to start running again, but never really found the time with trying to get some serious work done in my research life, and Rachel's job with Fife council it never really came together. Somewhere in the midst of this i also discovered i was going to move again, this time to London. I'm not sure quite where my enthusiasm for riding my bike went, but certainly the fun in intervals and training hard seemed to have more or less totally evaporated by the beginning of September, and maybe i should have left it there!
Instead, i decided that i had taken an entry for the race, the least i could do (since the organisers returned 150 entries this year!) was to race as best i could so i didn't take the spot of someone more deserving! After a night spent in the field next to the Helwith Bridge pub, race morning dawned grey and overcast. I wasn't worried, both the 3 peaks races i have done previously have been grey and overcast mornings, and have turned into beautiful days out on dry, fast ground. A bit of rain saw us away from the start, and made the sketchy 6 miles on the road a little more nervy with a pack of 600 riders. In spite of much tinkering with my cross bike, i'd had to make a last minute switch of wheels to a spare set with less than appropriate 32mm challenge tubs on (my rear tufo t34 having inexplicably sprung a leak when i was cleaning the bike on saturday morning!). On top of that, the longer chain i had fitted to cope with the 50T front ring, and a 32T rear sprocket decided that the wet was reason enough to fall off. Repeatedly. Before the off road had even begun. Cue a few maternally disapproving comments from Isla Rowntree about the quality of my bike maintenance.
Once we hit the first offroad section at Gill Garth, it was clear that this year was not going to be like the previous times i had done the race. The ground was sodden, and the going very tough. It set the tone for the whole race really, and as fun as it was riding a hugely inappropriate bike through the tough terrain of the yorkshire dales, i just didn't have the drive i had two years ago. My lack of running fitness really hit home as i came across fellow twitterer Dave Haygarth on the descent off Pen-y-Gent; the final one of the three peaks and more of a "riders" climb. He had had an off on the slippery top section, and broken his collarbone, and in spite of spending a lot of time grimacing by the side of the track (you would hope, or he just wouldn't be human!) and then making his way gingerly down the rest of the offroad, he still came in at the same time as me - 4h10m.
Nick Craig made the most of the absence of Rob Jebb to take a runaway victory from Neal Crampton who bettered his previous best with second place. Within a couple of days, the soreness had subsided, and i found myself thinking ahead to next year, when i'll be a bit more settled, and it'll mark the beginning of my first ever "proper" cross season (as opposed to the odd race here and there...).
So time is ticking by, it's less than a month until i move south to start all over again, and it seems like there's an awful lot to do. Better get packing...
Thursday, 4 August 2011
Highs and Lows
Mountain bike racing, it is often said, usually pun-intended, is a sport of highs and lows. It makes the high all the sweeter that the lows can be gutting. Racing is always hard, but it so much harder when you feel like you are fighting the course, other riders or even just your own body. From the last few years of racing the BMBS, I know how all of these things feel, but in the last 12 months i've learned a lot more about the humble mechanical than i ever wanted to know. Mechanicals are perhaps the most upsetting experience, if you're less fit or technically able than other riders, and suffer as a result, then at least you can go away, regroup and improve. With equipment failure, it doesn't matter how well prepared you are and how good you feel, it can be snatched away, and there is little you can do beyond careful, regular maintenance to ameliorate things. Shit happens.
My first experience of the Scottish XC series at Kirroughtree told me that i would have an exciting year to look forward to, the course was ace, the competition was pretty fierce with Expert and Elite riders mixed together, and the atmosphere was so friendly. Unfortunately, my race ended after two and a half laps when i picked up a second puncture on a rocky section of trail - my own fault entirely for running too little pressure to try to find some traction in the mud. Fast forward to the end of July, and the last round at Perth and i was feeling pretty confident. Four months more riding and racing in my legs, some record power numbers in the weeks running up to the race, and the fact that the course was not dissimilar to one of my favourite Fife riding venues, Pitmedden, made me think i was on for a good result here.
In the morning, i did my duty and fed Rachel as she cruised to another podium spot (2nd) behind Ciara McManus and in the process won the series. A national series elite win, not bad eh? For my race start, it became clear that there wasn't going to be a great strength in depth; there were three of us on the start line. I have to admit to feeling a bit conflicted about this, on the one hand, i would be guaranteed a podium finish, on the down side it felt like abit of an empty achievement. The predicament was probably even worse for friend Doug Shearer, who has been racing the scottish series the last 7years, and had never yet been on the Elite podium!
Rachel on her way to the series title. Note the warning about "Dangerous Cliffs" behind - this was a seriously picturesque course!
We got off to a gentle start, with Rab Wardell leading our intrepid trio through the downhill fireroad section at the beginning of the course, and then turning on the turbos when we hit the first climb. Showing my characteristic diesel nature, i didn't have the change of pace to follow, and tried not to get in Dougal's way as i grunted my way upwards. From the top of the first climb, it was pretty clear that Rab wasn't going to suffer too much from high grass track highland games exploits the day before, and he rode away to take a fine win. Things were a little closer between Douglas and I, in no small part because of his knee issues that have hampered his training over the last weeks. For a lap and a half, he sat ~15s ahead, the gap closing and opening a little as we reached sections of course that suited on or other of us. As the gap was closing again, disaster. Riding along a flat section of i heard a ping, and looked down to see my chain in my spokes - d'oh. I managed to coax the chain back out, and was about to pedal away when i noticed that the chain had escaped the mech. Unfortunately, the carbon cage plate had snapped - game over.
Feeling utterly dejected i had one last go at getting the whole drivetrain to work for me, in the hope that i could just ride around and finish to claim my spot on the podium having foregone any hopes of catching Douglas for second. It lasted 300 yards of gentle pedalling before falling apart again, and i gave up and ran to the start finish, with thoughts of whether or not it was feasible to run the whole course another 3 times going through my brain.
Rachel reiterated what the sensible side of my brain was saying, that running around with a bike there was no chance of staying on the lap, and that i might as well accept my poor luck and cheer my friends who were still riding. She was right, and it was good to see the front runners and riders in the masters and vets races blasting through for their final laps. A nice chat with friends, and we headed home for me to take my frustration out on the turbo trainer, where another PB 20m power suggested that my form is there - and i broke the "Magic 300" that Steve James and i have spoken about at previous races!
Looking dangerously as though i know what i'm doing. Normal service will no doubt be resumed soon...
In a way the whole experience epitomises what i love and hate about mountain bike racing. It's a different sport to time trialling, or even some road races, where you could measure people's physiological condition before the race and have a good idea of who will win. With MTB racing and 'cross, there is an element of equipment selection and maintaining it on and off the course, and of course the small matter of riding technically well and efficiently that pose less of a problem to our skinny-tyred bretheren. But with more variables come more ingenious and annoying ways for the bike Gods to end your race, and therein lies the rub. It is precisely this capriciousness in mtb racing that caused Cadel Evans to switch to the road. He's weak! I intend to continue with not knowing what the next 2hrs will hold when i start a race...
My first experience of the Scottish XC series at Kirroughtree told me that i would have an exciting year to look forward to, the course was ace, the competition was pretty fierce with Expert and Elite riders mixed together, and the atmosphere was so friendly. Unfortunately, my race ended after two and a half laps when i picked up a second puncture on a rocky section of trail - my own fault entirely for running too little pressure to try to find some traction in the mud. Fast forward to the end of July, and the last round at Perth and i was feeling pretty confident. Four months more riding and racing in my legs, some record power numbers in the weeks running up to the race, and the fact that the course was not dissimilar to one of my favourite Fife riding venues, Pitmedden, made me think i was on for a good result here.
In the morning, i did my duty and fed Rachel as she cruised to another podium spot (2nd) behind Ciara McManus and in the process won the series. A national series elite win, not bad eh? For my race start, it became clear that there wasn't going to be a great strength in depth; there were three of us on the start line. I have to admit to feeling a bit conflicted about this, on the one hand, i would be guaranteed a podium finish, on the down side it felt like abit of an empty achievement. The predicament was probably even worse for friend Doug Shearer, who has been racing the scottish series the last 7years, and had never yet been on the Elite podium!
Rachel on her way to the series title. Note the warning about "Dangerous Cliffs" behind - this was a seriously picturesque course!
We got off to a gentle start, with Rab Wardell leading our intrepid trio through the downhill fireroad section at the beginning of the course, and then turning on the turbos when we hit the first climb. Showing my characteristic diesel nature, i didn't have the change of pace to follow, and tried not to get in Dougal's way as i grunted my way upwards. From the top of the first climb, it was pretty clear that Rab wasn't going to suffer too much from high grass track highland games exploits the day before, and he rode away to take a fine win. Things were a little closer between Douglas and I, in no small part because of his knee issues that have hampered his training over the last weeks. For a lap and a half, he sat ~15s ahead, the gap closing and opening a little as we reached sections of course that suited on or other of us. As the gap was closing again, disaster. Riding along a flat section of i heard a ping, and looked down to see my chain in my spokes - d'oh. I managed to coax the chain back out, and was about to pedal away when i noticed that the chain had escaped the mech. Unfortunately, the carbon cage plate had snapped - game over.
Feeling utterly dejected i had one last go at getting the whole drivetrain to work for me, in the hope that i could just ride around and finish to claim my spot on the podium having foregone any hopes of catching Douglas for second. It lasted 300 yards of gentle pedalling before falling apart again, and i gave up and ran to the start finish, with thoughts of whether or not it was feasible to run the whole course another 3 times going through my brain.
Rachel reiterated what the sensible side of my brain was saying, that running around with a bike there was no chance of staying on the lap, and that i might as well accept my poor luck and cheer my friends who were still riding. She was right, and it was good to see the front runners and riders in the masters and vets races blasting through for their final laps. A nice chat with friends, and we headed home for me to take my frustration out on the turbo trainer, where another PB 20m power suggested that my form is there - and i broke the "Magic 300" that Steve James and i have spoken about at previous races!
Looking dangerously as though i know what i'm doing. Normal service will no doubt be resumed soon...
In a way the whole experience epitomises what i love and hate about mountain bike racing. It's a different sport to time trialling, or even some road races, where you could measure people's physiological condition before the race and have a good idea of who will win. With MTB racing and 'cross, there is an element of equipment selection and maintaining it on and off the course, and of course the small matter of riding technically well and efficiently that pose less of a problem to our skinny-tyred bretheren. But with more variables come more ingenious and annoying ways for the bike Gods to end your race, and therein lies the rub. It is precisely this capriciousness in mtb racing that caused Cadel Evans to switch to the road. He's weak! I intend to continue with not knowing what the next 2hrs will hold when i start a race...
Friday, 22 July 2011
National Champs
So, already around to the national champs weekend. Traditionally (in the last couple of years at least), this has marked the beginning of the end of the season - generally four of the five rounds of the BMBS have already been raced, the podium spots are all worked out, and everyone's pretty much ready for a rest. It has also traditionally marked the switch from XC races to more endurance-based events for me, landing just before the August/September flood of Bontrager 24/12, Torq in your sleep, Kielder and the 3 Peaks CX. Pleasingly, things up north are a little different (a change is as good as a rest), and the Scottish XC races continue through July with the Scottish Champs in early september. Anyway, these are all things to come, instead let's talk about what has already happened!
So, the championships themselves. The venue had been set for some months at the Aske Estate near the pretty North Yorkshire town of Richmond, which had already hosted a round of the Nutcracker series last year. From what i had heard, last year's course was a little lacking in interest, and the organisers had been put under pressure to do something with the venue after their regional round in May was met with similar disapproval by seasoned XC racers (the Scottish contingent were particularly scathing, incidentally, perhaps because we're so spoiled with tricky, technical courses up here!). So, with the understanding that we were probably not going to be treated to a tech-fest, Rachel and I started our leisurely trip down to Richmond on Saturday morning, in what can only be described as biblical rain in Fife.
As we headed south down the A1, the rain briefly abated, and then returned with renewed vigour as we got into my old childhood stomping grounds on the north east coast of Northumbria. We stopped for lunch at a pub in Bamburgh, and went for an extremely soggy walk on the beach in the imposing shadow of Bamburgh castle, where i instantly regressed 20 years and started running up and down the dunes. Rachel wisely pointed out that all this activity and dampness wasn't great preparation for an XC race, so we headed back to the car and put the heaters on full for the rest of the trip to Richmond. We arrived to find our prayers had been answered, it had been raining heavily at the estate, which would make for a more interesting race, but it was dry enough to put the tent up without too much trouble!
Portable home put up across the thoroughfare from the Salsa/Hope enclave, it was time to go and have a look at the course. A possible slightly optimistic choice of a ron/ralph tyre combo made for a rather sketchy pair of laps around the course, punctuated by standing in long queues to look at the "technical sections" early in the lap, which consisted of a steepish mud-over-rock descent through some trees, and then an open, muddy drop through some bracken that required a combination of nerve and relaxation to negotiate in one piece. The remainder of the lap was reasonably flat, with interest provided by an up-and-down-and-up-again traverse along a ridge through the trees, which reminded me a lot of the loamy southern courses like Crow Hill, and had held up amazingly well in spite of the deluge. Throughout the second half of the lap, the key would be to stay smooth rather than trying to ride fast, the latter tactic inevitably seemed to end with a squeak of brakes, a giggle and a loamy landing! Suitably prepared for what lay ahead, and happy to sacrifice a bit of grip to the Gods of rolling resistance, we gave our bikes a quick wash and settled down for our first night in a tent in rather a long time.
The dawn chorus that i usually rely on to wake me when camping never happened. It seems that birds don't like to sing when it's pouring with rain, perhaps they're worried that if they open their beaks, they'll drown when there's as much water coming from the sky as there was on Sunday morning. Rachel and I had a leisurely breakfast of bread, jam and crunchy nut cornflakes, truely the diet of champions. We were in a bit of a pickle as to who would bottle for us - we're usually quite a good little self-sufficient unit, but both racing at the same time had put paid to this. Thankfully, Joanna (Steve's wife) very kindly stepped into the breach and between her and Mel we were sorted! A bit of last-minute tyre swapping to fill the time, and we were ready to race. Well, almost. Thankfully, Mel and Si came to our rescue with lunch, as we'd forgotten to pack any. Start time rolled around surprisingly slowly, giving the weather plenty of time to threaten us, only to improve and ultimately dry the course quite a bit.
Being a lowly expert, with no UCI points to my name, and little chance of earning any this year with the change in UCI regs, i was gridded on the 6th row, so got a somewhat back-seat view of the runners and riders hitting the start of the first climb. My aim, much as last year, was to try to get around the course and not get lapped by Liam to finish the race, so i was keen to set a brisk, but not unsustainable pace - fast starts seem to hurt me a lot more than everyone else! I settled into a group with two guys from the RAF, being ably soigneured by Lou Robbins, Andy Howett and Christian Aucote. Not bad company, i though, perhaps i was having that rarest of things, a good day. The first half of the course consisted of two short, but brutally steep climbs, and two slippy descents that required a certain amount of committment to ride well, before leading across a section of open moorland and into a twisty section not dissimilar in style to Crow Hill. Definitely a course of two halves. I had Andy for company for the first half of the lap, but managed to escape him after he had a painful-looking altercation with a tree. Unlike many, he was good enough to cede the line whilst still upside down so i could keep riding and not join him in the undergrowth! I picked up Christian into the second lap, he was struggling more (if that is possible!) than me on the climbs, but was taking back time on the descents so that we stayed pretty well together. We worked well together for most of the race, and were annoyingly caught by Liam at the beginning of the fourth lap, with Annie on his wheel adding further insult! Unlike last year, when the commissaires allowed lapped riders to continue, Christian obviously believed that we would be pulled, and attacked into the last section of singletrack. Simultaneously, to add a bit of natural gravitas to our battle for the minor minor minor placings, the heavens opened. He got stuck behind a backmarker, and then nearly flattened all of us by trying to go on the other side, keeping a small margin all the way to the finish.
At the end of the race, i stood in the actually rather refreshing rain chatting to friends, and waiting for the AW boys to come in. First to cross the line was Steve James, who managed an amazing 11th place, shortly followed by Tim and Si in 14th and 15th - what a day! A few minutes later, and Rachel came in just behing Natasha Barry to claim 10th place, shortly followed by Ruth Owen-Evans; all to play for mid-field in the women's race!
So, still yet to finish a national champs without being lapped - it still has to be an aim for next year. I was 7th expert, but unlike last year when i got expert ranking points, i seem to have made a rather paltry haul from my trip to Richmond - oh well! Thanks to the Nutcracker guys for putting on a great event, with disappointingly little support from British Cycling, and as always to AW cycles for supporting me and providing my wonderful Giant Anthem.
So, the championships themselves. The venue had been set for some months at the Aske Estate near the pretty North Yorkshire town of Richmond, which had already hosted a round of the Nutcracker series last year. From what i had heard, last year's course was a little lacking in interest, and the organisers had been put under pressure to do something with the venue after their regional round in May was met with similar disapproval by seasoned XC racers (the Scottish contingent were particularly scathing, incidentally, perhaps because we're so spoiled with tricky, technical courses up here!). So, with the understanding that we were probably not going to be treated to a tech-fest, Rachel and I started our leisurely trip down to Richmond on Saturday morning, in what can only be described as biblical rain in Fife.
As we headed south down the A1, the rain briefly abated, and then returned with renewed vigour as we got into my old childhood stomping grounds on the north east coast of Northumbria. We stopped for lunch at a pub in Bamburgh, and went for an extremely soggy walk on the beach in the imposing shadow of Bamburgh castle, where i instantly regressed 20 years and started running up and down the dunes. Rachel wisely pointed out that all this activity and dampness wasn't great preparation for an XC race, so we headed back to the car and put the heaters on full for the rest of the trip to Richmond. We arrived to find our prayers had been answered, it had been raining heavily at the estate, which would make for a more interesting race, but it was dry enough to put the tent up without too much trouble!
Portable home put up across the thoroughfare from the Salsa/Hope enclave, it was time to go and have a look at the course. A possible slightly optimistic choice of a ron/ralph tyre combo made for a rather sketchy pair of laps around the course, punctuated by standing in long queues to look at the "technical sections" early in the lap, which consisted of a steepish mud-over-rock descent through some trees, and then an open, muddy drop through some bracken that required a combination of nerve and relaxation to negotiate in one piece. The remainder of the lap was reasonably flat, with interest provided by an up-and-down-and-up-again traverse along a ridge through the trees, which reminded me a lot of the loamy southern courses like Crow Hill, and had held up amazingly well in spite of the deluge. Throughout the second half of the lap, the key would be to stay smooth rather than trying to ride fast, the latter tactic inevitably seemed to end with a squeak of brakes, a giggle and a loamy landing! Suitably prepared for what lay ahead, and happy to sacrifice a bit of grip to the Gods of rolling resistance, we gave our bikes a quick wash and settled down for our first night in a tent in rather a long time.
The dawn chorus that i usually rely on to wake me when camping never happened. It seems that birds don't like to sing when it's pouring with rain, perhaps they're worried that if they open their beaks, they'll drown when there's as much water coming from the sky as there was on Sunday morning. Rachel and I had a leisurely breakfast of bread, jam and crunchy nut cornflakes, truely the diet of champions. We were in a bit of a pickle as to who would bottle for us - we're usually quite a good little self-sufficient unit, but both racing at the same time had put paid to this. Thankfully, Joanna (Steve's wife) very kindly stepped into the breach and between her and Mel we were sorted! A bit of last-minute tyre swapping to fill the time, and we were ready to race. Well, almost. Thankfully, Mel and Si came to our rescue with lunch, as we'd forgotten to pack any. Start time rolled around surprisingly slowly, giving the weather plenty of time to threaten us, only to improve and ultimately dry the course quite a bit.
Being a lowly expert, with no UCI points to my name, and little chance of earning any this year with the change in UCI regs, i was gridded on the 6th row, so got a somewhat back-seat view of the runners and riders hitting the start of the first climb. My aim, much as last year, was to try to get around the course and not get lapped by Liam to finish the race, so i was keen to set a brisk, but not unsustainable pace - fast starts seem to hurt me a lot more than everyone else! I settled into a group with two guys from the RAF, being ably soigneured by Lou Robbins, Andy Howett and Christian Aucote. Not bad company, i though, perhaps i was having that rarest of things, a good day. The first half of the course consisted of two short, but brutally steep climbs, and two slippy descents that required a certain amount of committment to ride well, before leading across a section of open moorland and into a twisty section not dissimilar in style to Crow Hill. Definitely a course of two halves. I had Andy for company for the first half of the lap, but managed to escape him after he had a painful-looking altercation with a tree. Unlike many, he was good enough to cede the line whilst still upside down so i could keep riding and not join him in the undergrowth! I picked up Christian into the second lap, he was struggling more (if that is possible!) than me on the climbs, but was taking back time on the descents so that we stayed pretty well together. We worked well together for most of the race, and were annoyingly caught by Liam at the beginning of the fourth lap, with Annie on his wheel adding further insult! Unlike last year, when the commissaires allowed lapped riders to continue, Christian obviously believed that we would be pulled, and attacked into the last section of singletrack. Simultaneously, to add a bit of natural gravitas to our battle for the minor minor minor placings, the heavens opened. He got stuck behind a backmarker, and then nearly flattened all of us by trying to go on the other side, keeping a small margin all the way to the finish.
At the end of the race, i stood in the actually rather refreshing rain chatting to friends, and waiting for the AW boys to come in. First to cross the line was Steve James, who managed an amazing 11th place, shortly followed by Tim and Si in 14th and 15th - what a day! A few minutes later, and Rachel came in just behing Natasha Barry to claim 10th place, shortly followed by Ruth Owen-Evans; all to play for mid-field in the women's race!
So, still yet to finish a national champs without being lapped - it still has to be an aim for next year. I was 7th expert, but unlike last year when i got expert ranking points, i seem to have made a rather paltry haul from my trip to Richmond - oh well! Thanks to the Nutcracker guys for putting on a great event, with disappointingly little support from British Cycling, and as always to AW cycles for supporting me and providing my wonderful Giant Anthem.
Friday, 8 July 2011
The list
Rachel has pointed out that i frequently refer to races and events as "that's going on the list", when in reality there is no list, just my half-remembered attempt at keeping a mental record of what i want to do "one day". So, here is the list, with a rough attempt at prioritisation (given by the fact that i'm more likely to remember the ones i really want to do first!):
TransAlp Challenge (done it once, but it felt like a waymarked holiday, would love to do it again and feel like i actually did a race)
BC Bike Race - it's on at the moment, it looks like amazing singletrack riding of the sort that is so often lacking from big marathon events and stage races, and it's in BC!
Grand Raid Cristalp - just an amazing, classic race. Don't understand why there's a nasty hike-a-bike right at the end, apart from because the organisers are sadists, but apparently the final downhill makes up for it.
Gunn Rita Marathon, Montello - any excuse to go to Italy, purely for the food. Course sounds a bit different from the usual big-ups, big downs...
Scuol Swiss National Park Marathon - falls the week before the Cristalp, and goes through some of my favourite bits of transalp territory from years gone by. Starts in a town that even loan out their nuclear shelter to house sweaty grimy participants...
Alpentour trophy - purely because i enjoyed reading Mike Blewitt and Ben Thomas' reports, and seeing headcam from Josh Ibbett that shows i'm not the only brit that gets euro singletrack rage!
I'm sure there are more, but this seems like enough to bankrupt me for at least the next five years. So next time i say "it's on the list", at least i'll have somewhere to put it!
TransAlp Challenge (done it once, but it felt like a waymarked holiday, would love to do it again and feel like i actually did a race)
BC Bike Race - it's on at the moment, it looks like amazing singletrack riding of the sort that is so often lacking from big marathon events and stage races, and it's in BC!
Grand Raid Cristalp - just an amazing, classic race. Don't understand why there's a nasty hike-a-bike right at the end, apart from because the organisers are sadists, but apparently the final downhill makes up for it.
Gunn Rita Marathon, Montello - any excuse to go to Italy, purely for the food. Course sounds a bit different from the usual big-ups, big downs...
Scuol Swiss National Park Marathon - falls the week before the Cristalp, and goes through some of my favourite bits of transalp territory from years gone by. Starts in a town that even loan out their nuclear shelter to house sweaty grimy participants...
Alpentour trophy - purely because i enjoyed reading Mike Blewitt and Ben Thomas' reports, and seeing headcam from Josh Ibbett that shows i'm not the only brit that gets euro singletrack rage!
I'm sure there are more, but this seems like enough to bankrupt me for at least the next five years. So next time i say "it's on the list", at least i'll have somewhere to put it!
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