Sussex-MTB

I’ve never known anyone get through cars like Hoops. It seems that every nine months or so, he needs a new one. And, it must be a VW and it must originate from Milton Keynes. Which is great as Chicksands just happens to be really close by. Therefore, the inevitable post went up on the site (the one that was straightforward to use…) that a new car was required and a ride was in order.

For a while it was looking like not only was there going to be quality, but also quantity as many and varied names appeared on the list, and plenty of jostling for car spaces took place, but, cometh the hour, the throng melted away, and we were left with Hoops (obviously), the mighty Tony and my good self to wend our way up the M1 in blazing sunshine.

The plan was for Tony and I to go direct to Chicksands, with Hoops joining us later. There was a slight chill in the air on arrival, but (at long last) the sky was blue, and despite hysterical ramblings on the forum about needing mud spikes, the ground was dry and lush. The steeds were readied – myself on my trusty Ellsworth Joker and Tony on his Mythic Rampant and we headed off for a few warm up runs on the 4X track.

Joker at Chicksands

Tony's Mythic

We spent a while on the track, but I find it difficult to master and prefer the dual course, so soon headed over there to start sending it properly. Off the start ramp and into the first double (containing the one area of dampness we encountered all day) then on into the first berm and drop we headed, side by side, succumbing to the competitive urge and adrenaline rush…

Tony dual

Daddy dual

We rode the course over and over, gaining confidence and speed, jumping bigger, further and faster, and after a while a familiar character in a SMTB shirt joined us at the top of the hill. Hoops was straight into it and wanting to try out his helmet cam, so we continued to fly down the track and push back up, enjoying the fantastic conditions…

Hoops railing berm

Tony on start ramp

After a top session on the dual track, playing with the helmet cam, racing each other and generally looning, we decided to move to the freeride area. At this point I was happy to play with my dad’s SLR camera as my hand is still not properly fixed from my road crash and riding drops was not a great idea!

Hoops went straight for the big run – a large cut away drop into steep descent, straight into a very large double jump, completing it with ease, adding more speed and height. Very impressive.

Hoops drop in

Hoops high time

Meanwhile, Tony was sessioning a different line and building up his confidence to get airbourne – both riders in their zone and egging eachother on to bigger and better things. Tony went for a drop in, riding sooo smooth…

Tony drop in

Then Tony and Hoops were both eyeing a double with a difficult bermed entry and trying to work out the speed needed to clear it. After a couple of aborted run ins, all of a sudden Hoops came in, railing that berm and set for take off – clearing it with some style…

Hoops double

We were doing really well, the standard of riding was top notch and things were going great. There was one thing though. Hoops had something on his mind. Something that he couldn’t let go of. He kept going to the bottom of the big run and looking at the monster double that has been on his mind for a very long time. Last time I was here with him it was the same. Looking. Thinking. Looking. A few mumbled words – speed. Trajectory. Speed. I can do it.

All of a sudden the covert visualisation technique seemed to win out. There was light in his eyes. He had belief. After all, what was the worst that could happen? Actually, best not contemplate that – don’t want blood in a new motor…

Before I knew it, he was at the top of the drop in with fire in his eyes and I was lying on my belly, camera set up thinking that I’d left my phone and first aid kit in the car… He set off, tonking into the drop, carrying massive speed down the bank into the first jump, which he cleared easily. He carried his speed down the second slope and into the final berm, pedalling hard. He set himself, full commitment now – no time for backing out – and hit the take off….

Hoops big double

Hoops big double 2

KIN HELL!!!! That was awesome! He hit it perfect and nailed the landing on the downslope as if he’d done it a hundred times. Much respect to that man for that jump…. There was plenty of whooping and yelling from Tony and myself, and then the muffled and understated words from inside the full face lid… , “what a rush…”. Even the steady Hooper hands had a little shake going on!

He repeated the jump a second time, capturing it on helmet cam, and a third – at which point came the “I think it’s time to stop’ words from inside the lid as he dropped the nose big time on landing, using the full 180mm of travel, and now needing a new pair of pants.

Hoops double 3

After some collective gathering of breath, we headed back to the dual track for some final looning about, filming with the headcam whilst all 3 of us raced down, fighting for the same landing space, and generally having a ball.

We packed it in around 4 and headed our separate ways, it seeming fitting that the first thing hoops does with a new car is fill it with stinking bike gear and bung a bike on the roof. Nice one.

Now, there was a deal that whatever happened on the trip stayed on the trip, so all I can say about the journey home for Tony and I is…

How’d we miss that????

Big Daddy

It was billed as a post Christmas Indulgence tonic, and was just what I needed after a few too many calories and just a splash or two of fine wine. I only decided to enter a few days before, so there was very little time for preparation, just a run on the Saturday and a brief 25 min blast on my gorgeous new road bike to stretch the legs on Sunday.

I’m well known for not getting on with Enduro events, having a reliable tendency to go too fast and blow up after a couple of hours, so I entered the 2 hour category – hardly really an enduro, but a good challenge for me with a really wide age cat of 16 – 40 that would test these creaky 35 year old legs.

Chilly start

The morning dawned really chilly, a heavy frost on the ground and a beautiful clear blue sky above, perfect race conditions. The original Ash Ranges course was billed as 8 miles, but was shortened to around 6 due to foresting. This meant that I reckoned I should get onto a 5th lap before the 2 hr cut off.

I lined up about 4 rows back from the front of a massive field (109), ready to have fun, and without great expectations of a top result – top 20 would be great considering the field size and age!

Start line

After shivering on the line for a few minutes, the hooter went and we set off up the start hill, jostling for position. The course quickly headed up a really steep section which had most off the bike, although I just about managed to find a clear line and made it up. The course proved to be pretty good, nice singletrack sections, with plenty of open tracks giving passing room. There were also quite a few short sharp climbs and descents to test the skill (and cause a few slow processions!). My first lap went well; I was enjoying myself, warmed up nicely and found a good flow. I completed it in a tad under 27 mins, getting great support from my usual support crew as I crossed the line and set off on lap 2. I’d made a pact with myself to keep on top of my energy levels so downed a gel and cracked on.

Race time

There’s a slightly crazy element in me that has to clean climbs, the steeper the better, and that was the challenge for lap 2 – complete them all with no dabs, which I managed to achieve. There were two large water splash puddles per lap and by the time I’d done them on the second lap my feet were numb cold, although most of the rest of the lap was mud free – frozen! The last section of the lap wound around a couple of the rifle ranges, and care was needed as several times the course popped out of the trees onto the frosty grassed edges, each time into a tight bend – I saw 4 people go down on the slippery grass, and heeded the warning to go careful!

The course was pretty congested through the first 4 laps – the 4 hour guys had started 15 mins ahead, so very quickly there were around 250 riders on the 6 mile course, although it was encouraging to be passing people all the time, and I was able to use the fact that I had to follow some guys to keep a check on my speed and stay in control of my heart rate.

Race time

All this meant that I found myself crossing the line to start my 5th lap with 10mins to go before the cut off, so knowing that lap 5 would be my finale, I was keen to buck my usual trend and finish fast. I was feeling good and strong, and really up for a good last lap, having absolutely no idea how I was doing in relation to anyone else. I managed to clean all the climbs again, which I was chuffed with, got through the watersplash, with a huge wobble – only sheer will power kept me out of the freezing muddy water – and on, up over the heathland on top of the ranges, passing other riders frequently.

I managed to complete the race with a flourish as I raced a rider down the last singletrack descent, passing him at the bottom and heading on to the finish line, completing the race in 5th place, which was a real bonus surprise. Might well be up for the final round after this…

Big Daddy

As I sit here, sore as hell, bloodied, bruised and scraped and cut, I reflect on my chalky adventure down south on SMTB’s home patch. It was Hoop’s idea.

He posted a very appealing looking ride at Whiteways early Sunday morning. I haven’t in this area since doing old school xc racing back in the day, 15 years ago, and was really tempted by the idea of revisiting the place and taking on the ‘masters of chalk’ in their own back yard. (Not that I’m competitive you understand… I spend most of my time riding the Surrey Hills and North Downs which are an entirely different surface to chalk, but, come on, how difficult can it be?

I knew from the last time I’d checked the post that Hoops, ASBO and Brian at least were in, so the standard of riding was going to be high, but hey, I can mix it with them, even on their terrain…

It was an usually late night for me Saturday night, and a 6am start, so I left home, in the dark, tired and a little concerned about the stormy weather, but the further south I got, the better the weather, and the anticipation of a proper epic of a ride grew as I drove.

On arrival I was greeted by more cheery Sussex boys than I expected – 8 in all, and after the minimal faffing and fettling we were under way, a natural order forming quickly with Hoops leading the way, me following closely with Brian and ASBO close behind and goading all the way, with the others following closely. The swoopy singletrack began instantly, and quickly turned up hill, wending its slippery way I’ve no idea where.

The ground was wet and slippery, but the sky was dry and the spirits were high, I was enjoying this! The banter was flowing freely and so were the laughs. We wound our way up and as the singletrack ended, we joined a double track and continued the climb away from the forest, surrounded by beautiful scenery, with Hoops and ASBO ahead of me…

…and Martin, Brian and the others not far behind.

After a while, and a warning about a really fast (in the dry anyway) singletrack descent, we turned left and cranked it up. Hoops led, and took off at a properly fast lick, I followed with ASBO behind. It was slippery, but staying loose and relaxed and flowing with the trail did the trick, although I did have an almighty sideways ‘brown pants’ moment that caused ASBO a great deal of amusement. I rode it out though and the confidence soared through this North Downs boy. ‘North’ could take on ‘South’, no worries… Uncle Phil continued to show us all his amazing style, fitness and finesse, Kim and Martin added fuel to the ‘hard tails rule here’ theory and Matt even managed to keep a big wheeler on the trail and make it go round corners…

All the while I had no idea where we were, but it didn’t matter – great company, great trails, banter and taking on the slippery chalk was what this ride was about.

We turned up hill again, a short but steep track to test the legs. It pains me to say, but ASBO proved that there’s plenty of power in those mighty calves as he stomped his singlespeed up the hill…

After a particularly treacherous, but quality fast descent,

…we were faced with a proper steep climb up to the SDW that forced all into a dismount, with the exception of Iron man Hoops, who got away with one dab (and a small push!)

We crossed a picturesque field, which was an opportunity to regroup and gather breath.

We continued on, the trails come thick and fast. After a couple of hours riding I was really on it, cocky confident with my new found ‘chalk wheels’. We all know what happens immediately after over-confidence…

As we turned down again, Hoops shouted a warning (or threw a gauntlet, depending on your perception…) that this was a fast and slippery descent that was awesome in the dry, but he’d never been down it in the wet. We took off, Hoops first and me following, closely at first, but he soon started to drop me. ASBO was giving it some close behind me with Martin and Brian on his tail. The trail was fairly narrow and wound its way through the trees and down the hill. It suddenly opened out and levelled slightly and passed a small derelict outhouse type building. As I went over an exposed chalky rough patch, the next thing I knew was I was bouncing on my hip, with searing pain in my thigh and knee.

It happened so quickly that I wasn’t really aware of what had caused it, but it became clear that the chalk had bitten back and caught me unawares, causing the front wheel to wash out in a flash. ASBO skidded to a halt behind, complained that my bike was in the middle of the trail, then found his compassionate side and tended to me. That hurt! Although I was cut, grazed and sore, the most painful bit was that I had been too lazy to put the camera back in my bag and had now fallen on it in my shorts pocket, breaking it and causing a deep bruise to the side of my thigh, which was really inhibiting my movement. Hoops was blissfully unaware ahead, so eventually, after a few moments of feeling nauseous and checking that my body wasn’t terminally broken, I was persuaded to get back on the bike and ride down (very gingerly!) to where he’d stopped.

He turned paramedic and patched me up very effectively (cheers pal), but I was in so much pain from my thigh and my confidence on the chalk shattered. After some recovery time, and the realisation that we were a very long way from the car, we headed onwards, and after a while I managed to settle into something of a rhythm. We climbed and descended on great trails for a good while, although I have to admit that my recollection of this last hour is mostly about pain and little about the route…

One thing I was aware of was how well Matt (I believe something of a newbie to mtb) was riding, and what mental strength and determination he has – never moaned once, always grinning despite obviously running on the reserve energy tank!

Finally we could see the masts that signified the highest point of the ride meaning downhill all the way, which was a blessed relief to this broken ‘Chalk Pretender’. We finished off on what was great singletrack (to the others – I couldn’t ride it for toffee by then!) through Houghton forest and back to the car park, just as the heavens absolutely dumped a torrent of rain onto us.

The final stats were 3½ hours of ride time, covering 28 km. It was great. I came south, gave it my best shot, and headed back North to Redhill broken and defeated. You guys can’t half ride the chalk… Respect indeed.

Sorry if you were eating!

Big Daddy

After missing out on round 1 at the last minute, I was keen to get back to Gorrick racing, having not done a pure mtb race for a good few months whilst dabbling in offroad tri’s.

The weather had been pretty lousy and Saturday night had me undecided about whether to use mud tyres, or stick with Geax Saguros. In the end, pure laziness meant I left the tyres as they were and took a chance on the good drainage at Crowthorne.

Sunday dawned cold, but dry – perfect for autumn racing. After some faffing and the scariest rocking portaloo experience, I set off on the practice lap with my teammate Jeremy. The course looked great, on the whole surprisingly dry with the odd exception, with loads of singletrack to cause a queue or two.

We just about made it back to the start line on time, and I lined up in the 2nd row, Jeremy a few rows behind and Alex Davey (all South Downs Bikes liveried) right behind.

As the horn sounded I had a huge slip and instantly lost loads of places, although importantly not to Alex…). Fortunately for me, the start fireroad section was long and by the time we entered the first singletrack section I was right back up in 3rd place and ahead of any potential queuing issues.

After a while the race settled and I found myself bowling along nicely in about 6th place, feeling good and in a small group of 4 riders. The course was truly excellent fun, including a really fast descent with a loose and difficult cambered bend to be taken without braking if you’re brave enough, and the first lap flew past with me feeling really good and managing to ride away from the others in my group. (I went so fast that my supporters missed me go through…) Lap 2 was equally good fun, although I lost track of my position as I caught some of the tail enders from other categories and a couple of fellow masters riders. There were some good technically challenging sections, some interesting drop offs and one nice, steep and fast roll in that was about 15ft down. I ended up in a close battle with a guy for the last third of lap 2 and into lap 3, although he got away in the end.

I couldn’t keep with him and turned my attentions to defending the position I had. Fortunately there was no-one in sight and I felt good, so I flew on, really enjoying myself. After a while the guy who’d got away was in sight again and suddenly I felt that I could catch him. I slowly closed the gap, and down the long fast descent I got quite close as I slid round the cambered bend right on the limit of grip. Coming out of this section, the course turned up hill and got narrow and sloppy; necessitating a big gear change, which unfortunately my usually ultra-reliable front mech decided it couldn’t manage any more. I lost valuable seconds getting it going and by the time I looked up again, the guy was gone…

No matter, on looking back nervously, there was no-one close so I was safe enough to complete the last third of the lap and keep my position. As I crossed the line, the announcer called me in 4th place which I was really chuffed with – my best Gorrick finish for a good while. Not long afterwards, Alex came in 15th and Jeremy crossed the line in 20th, having successfully singlespeeded his first race for nearly a year.

I must also congratulate the best Sussex finisher of the day, Uncle Phil, who claimed a 3rd place in his first short course xc race – very impressive work. (A footnote apology for no pictures this time – the support team were without camera this time!)

Check out the Brass Monkeys 2 and 4 hour Enduro series through the winter run on the Gorrick courses at www.gorrick.com

Big Daddy

It’s a long story that I won’t explain, but I found myself having done the school/nursery run, and with 2 hours to kill before Little Daddy needed picking up. The sun was shining (again), the ground ridiculously dry and dusty considering it is October and the lure of the North Downs in spectacular Autumn colour was too much to bear.

I was also keen to try out my new Specialized Roubaix bib ¾ tights, now that the mornings are colder. I chucked the camera in my pocket and set off (I’m fortunate enough to live just 5 minutes from the North Downs Way near Reigate hill so able to ride straight from home).

I was soon warmed up and flying a long, Metallica blaring in my ears, as I turned off the road and got settled into the long gradual climb up the side of Reigate hill.

As I climbed, the last remnants of cloud were burning off, leaving the sky a brilliant blue and the air fresh with a slight Autumn chill. As I neared the top, the track widens out and becomes rougher, the roots rocks and flints causing the suspension to work harder as I pushed the pace up the steepening gradient. I passed through the viewpoint car park and on, past the TV masts and along to the top of Colley hill, where the trail that had previously been under the cover of trees opens out into magnificent views to the south and west, looking along the North Downs and Surrey hills towards the Mecca of Leith and Pitch, and south, across to the South downs. One of the reasons we do this sport is for these moments so I took a quick stop here to absorb the panorama, take photos and drink…

I love this route for several reasons – it’s straight from home, so no faffing with cars, it’s got a great mix of fast open trails, tight techy singletrack and some big lung busting hills to make me work. The scenery is pretty impressive too. Just along from Colley hill the trail turns back on itself and disappears steeply down the scarp slope with an huge natural bermed 180° bend near the bottom to catch out the unwary speed merchants. The sign at the top just draws you in, if you know what I mean:-

It was at this point that I remembered I was supposed to do a review on the tights – the fact that I’d forgotten showed how comfortable they were. The fit is perfect, with grippers just below the knee just tight enough to stop them riding up without limiting circulation. They are lightly lined, meaning they’re cosy warm – possibly too much for these conditions, especially as I’m usually too hot rather than too cold, so I look forward to them keep me toasty through the winter. The understated graphics look really smart, finishing off a great set of tights.

The trail then meandered along the bottom of the hill line for a few miles on some cracking singletrack, in and out of the trees, and got me barrelling along at top speed. Even down at the bottom of the hill, the views were amazing, the dazzling pallet of Autumn tree colour set against the brilliant blue sky bringing me to a halt again to take it all in…

It’s maybe sad to admit, but I love a good steep technical climb, and this route has two, the first being a rutted track that is full of rubble and loose stuff all the way up. It’s a difficult technical challenge requiring a lowest gear grind, essential to get your weight as far over the front as possible to keep it down, whilst trying to keep the rear gripping. All whilst I hit max heart rate of 192. Great fun…

Once at the top, I’d reached the furthest point of this route and the trail turned on itself, and I headed back along the top of the hill for a while before the trail started to drop again. I picked up a whole lot of speed down this narrow, but mostly straight path, trying to stay out of the ruts, and enjoying the fact that the majority of the summer nettles have died back. I picked up the low trail I’d been on for a short time before the second major hill climb – the return climb up the hill to the ‘Steep Descent’ sign. This climb is more about the steepness than the technicality, in places it’s right on the limit of balance, grip and momentum, and takes nearly 3 minutes of max heart rate climbing.

Once I’d achieved it (no-dabbing for me!) the pace picked up again and I motored along the top edge of the scarp slope of Colley hill, taking in the views again and generally feeling good about life.

I then retraced my route back to the viewpoint car park, and then down off the hill along the really fast, stony and rough North Downs Way path, re joined the road and headed home.

Being a bit of a self-confessed nutter, and having really got my pecker up with this ride, I’d decided on the final descent to turn this trip into a bit of a duathlon, so home became a transition zone for me to remove spd shoes, helmet and gloves, don running shoes and set off out for a run. I won’t bore you with the details of that, save to say it was around 5k and felt good and fast. All in all, I’d had a top class morning, remembering why we like to get out there and ride, and appreciating what a beautiful part of the world we live in.

Big Daddy

After a pretty successful first Trail X event (despite the disqualification…) I was very keen to give it another go, and signed up for the next race, taking place in and around Poole harbour.

My preparation had been going pretty well – coming off the back of a good summer running and riding loads and feeling pretty fit. Then I got a cold, the weekend before and I started to grumble about timing of ill health! The cold cleared up after a couple of days, but returned with a vengeance the day before the race, which really annoyed me, as I had aspirations of a podium finish.

The morning of the race dawned, I dosed up with cold & flu tablets, made sure I was properly hydrated and set off with daughter and parents. After a pretty good journey, we found the somewhat remote race HQ in a cow field right on the water’s edge. It was a stunning place, the sun was shining and it was almost hot. We were early and had time to kill, but it flew past as the anticipation of running 10k, riding 20k and kayaking 3.5k really built up.

Silly grin

After the usual briefing stuff, I was clear on what I had to do – 2 run laps, 2 bike laps and kayak across the harbour, round an island and back. Cool. The gun went and I got swept along towards the front of the field of 50 or so in my category. Despite the amount of nasty green stuff I seemed to be producing, I ran ok for a while, although I was a bit nervous of a slightly dodgy ankle, as this course went through rough woodland and sections were not on paths but straight across open heath-land. I did get grumpy as we approached the first checkpoint, which meant crossing 300metres of ankle deep bog and ruining my nice white running shoes! No fussing, just get in there and try to stay on your feet!

After a while I seemed to lose pace a bit, and a fair few people went past me, so I justified it to myself by promising to nuke them on the bike… I found the last part of the run tough and was pleased run with another guy who kept the pace hard and to get back onto the fireroad track back to transition and the welcoming yells of my daughter…

Run finish

So, through transition, grab bike and good drink, and set off to make up some of that lost ground. Almost straight away my head cleared of cold and I felt much better. The first part of the course was fairly open tracks which quickly turned into a long drawn out climb, through a few gates and up in the Purbeck hills. I was now in amongst other categories, a lot of them being novice mountain bikers from what I could see, and I lost a fair bit of time as the trail narrowed into a quite techy singletrack climb, stuck in a long queue. The course then suddenly tightly turned back down the hill on another track, and once I cleared the queue for the checkpoint, it became an absolute scream to fly down the technical singletrack past loads of other guys, completely showing off as I jumped, slid and generally looned down the hill.

The final part of the lap was back onto fast open tracks and I was able to get my ‘part roadie’ legs working hard and motor along. Lap 2 was less eventful, with the exception of some calf cramps, but I downed a TORQ gel and a drink and that settled pretty quickly. The climb was definitely easier without so many other riders on it and the descent was just as much fun as the first time…

Bike leg

So, back to transition and the section I was really looking forward to – the kayaking. This was my third attempt at a race including kayaking and the first time it was actually going to happen, so I was excited about the challenge, having not been in a kayak for at least 15 years. I picked up my boat and kit and entered the water a couple of hundred yards behind a guy, with 2 more a similar distance behind me, so the pressure was on, as I had a feeling I was in a pretty good position at this point.

I recalled a conversation I’d had with a guy I ran with for a while, who said that these boats had a max speed, so there was no point in going mad, but efficiency was the best technique. This turned out to be good advice as it quickly became obvious that as long as I kept going, status quo would be maintained. I had to head out across open water, round an island (where there was a checkpoint on a jetty) and back across. The first part went well, I got settled in a rhythm and felt good. As I neared the island it became obvious how shallow the water was as I beached, more than 100 yards out! I panicked, not wanting to lose any places to the two guys close behind, but managed to refloat and take a wider line round to the jetty.

The wind and tide were with me on the final push across the open water, and I got back to shore with my position safe and a big grin – that was fun…

Kayak finish

All that remained was to do a 300 metre run (well very stiff jog) back to the transition area and finish

The end in sight....

I’d survived and taken 53 mins to run, 69 mins to ride and 33 mins to kayak the course and finished in a respectable 4th place, which, considering my health, I was really pleased with. It’s just annoying there isn’t another event til next Spring!

Big Daddy

Having spent many years racing mountain bikes, first xc, then downhill, then back to xc, I’ve found myself branching out and trying some different forms of racing over the last year including the Rat Race, and a couple of duathlons.

I’ve been interested in doing a triathlon for a while, but my swimming is not of a competitive level and I don’t have time to do it regularly, so I was excited by the www.endurancelife.com Trail-X series as there were categories with kayaking instead of swimming. Now I’ve not kayaked for at least 15years, but I reckoned that a lot of others wouldn’t have either, so I might stand a fighting chance of keeping up and a lot less chance of drowning!

The swimming and kayaking categories were each split into 3 distance sub categories, the ’sport’ version consisting of a 10k run, 20k mtb, 3.5k sea Kayak appealing to me most. So I signed up to the Sussex event, which took place at Birling Gap near Eastbourne on 11th July.

Despite the best of intentions, I didn’t manage to get near a canoe in the build up to the event, so I would be truly winging that bit, but I’d completed the Reigate 10k run the Wed before in a personal best time and 6mins faster than last year, so was fairly confident in my running, and obviously the biking is my strongest discipline so no worries there…

So to the start-line… The weather was windy and changeable, with drizzly showers blowing in regularly, and the sea conditions were ‘messy’ (as described by the organisers in the briefing) meaning that the swim/kayak course was shortened to a simple ‘out & back’ course. The swimmers race order was – swim-ride-run, and the kayakers race order was – run-ride-kayak, so that we weren’t all in the water together. We had to complete 2 run laps, ride out to Friston forest and complete 2 short laps in the forest then ride back (total 20k) then the ‘out & back’ kayak section.

The gun went and the swimmers set off on the short run to the beach. We were to start a few minutes later. An apprehensive bunch of racers gathered at the start-line and the countdown began. As the gun went we all piled into a bottleneck and the first narrow path down towards the beach. I managed to get fairly near the front, skipped past a few others through the bushes and got settled. I had no idea what the course profile would be like, except that I knew the area was hilly. And it was. Oh my god it was steep. The run lap consisted of a short steep climb, back down steeply, then a much longer climb up from near sea level to the top of the hill, over the top and down a near cliff, then up another hill and down, loop round and back over both hills, then a long dragging climb from the beach up to the lighthouse, and finally down to the main path and back to the transition area. Twice. No flat sections at all, and it wasn’t a 5k lap, it was over 6!

It was awesomely beautiful, the sun piercing the swiftly moving shower clouds and the white cliffs standing out against the sea. It was also serious ankle-breaking terrain and I had to really pay attention to my foot placement, not being use to this standard of off-road running.

I ran well, and although it was becoming a struggle through the second lap, I really enjoyed it. Having said that there was no-one more pleased than me to get to transition, see and hear the brilliant support from my daughter and the rest of the family, be done with the running and get biking. That is, until I was given the soul destroying message that the coastguard had deemed the sea too dangerous for the canoeing, and we were to complete a further run lap after the ride.

I was really disappointed with this – the kayaking was one of the highlights of this event – it was also cancelled due to weather in the rat race I did last year. Still, I gathered myself together, got kitted up, jumped on the Truth and set off on the bike course. I was looking forward to this – my chance to gain some ground, as in my experience of multi-sport events so far, most competitors are runners rather than mtbers.

After following the run course for a few hundred yards, the bike course then veered inland, and up and up. This course followed tracks out towards Friston forest, going over the biggest hills the organisers could find! During this section I started to feel a bit dodgy – light headed, tired and nauseas which was not a good sign! Not enough calories in my belly. I only had Torq gels with me, so downed one of them and it fairly quickly made me feel a bit better, although I was struggling to concentrate on the riding. As I got into the forest proper and started the pretty good singletrack sections, I found myself riding on autopilot, not really taking in what was happening, just focussing on following the course markers, and getting past the many slower riders littered all over the course, some walking their bikes. I still find it amazing that people fit enough and game enough to do these events can’t ride singletrack!

To be honest I can’t remember a lot of the detail of the rest of the ride as my head was a mess, but somehow I survived it and found myself on the fast road blast back down towards transition. I was pretty concerned about doing another run now! I arrived in transition to great support once again, although I think my face gave away how I was feeling! I scoffed down some energy bar, stretched out the legs (my calves always suffer most with running) had a few wobbly moments of ‘I don’t think I can do this anymore’, got my running shoes on and set off again, determined that this course would not beat me.

Surprisingly, I seemed to settle into a reasonable pace and started to feel better. The only mistake I’d made was to carry a bottle with me, which was very quickly becoming annoying, so I soon dumped that with a marshal, promising to pick it up on my return, and got stuck into those hills again. I kept a close eye on my heart rate, attempting to keep it down under 175 where I could, to try and save some energy. I was pleased with how I was going and felt much more confident about completing the race, and maybe getting a good result. I knew that the wind would be behind me up the final long drag to the lighthouse, and that if I could get up there I was guaranteed to make it. I had to walk up the first steepest section to the ridge, where the wind did indeed get behind me and I was able to keep a decent pace all the way to the top, and then go past the lighthouse for the last time, down the hill and pick up the path back down to the finish. As I entered the short copse section, I saw my daughter waiting and cheering for me. She ran the last hundred yards with me, and I crossed the finish line in a complete mess, but thoroughly chuffed with myself for completing a proper ‘hard as nails’ race.

The best bit was yet to come though – as I was then told that I had won my category, completing the course in 3hrs and 3 mins! I’ve never won a race before, and never thought it would happen now I’m getting on a bit, so I was extraordinarily pleased to have won a race like this, especially when I spent a lot of it not expecting to finish!

Unfortunately, the story has a further twist as we once all the info from our ‘dibbers’ was processed and the results posted – it seems I (as well as several others)  inadvertently missed a section of the bike lap, so I am disqualified from the final results. I’m gutted – if I added the 15 mins it took the lead guy to complete the missed section to my time I would’ve still finished a clear 2nd. Damn… I knew my head wasn’t right on the ride and I must’ve missed the signage.

The next one is based at Poole harbour on 12th September. I might just have to be there to prove a point…

Big Daddy

Having seen Tony’s post up about a trip to Esher, I was unable to resist the urge to go back again. It was one of those days where everything just fell into place – I managed to get some time off work, the sun was shining brightly and it was dry.

So, the line up for the day was to be Tony, his mate Kev and myself. We arrived around 10ish, basking in the glorious weather, wandered round the park on foot, completed the usual faffing and got riding. As always for me with shore riding, it takes about half an hour to get loosened and into it, and the others were finding the same.

Still, it didn’t take long to start pushing ourselves, with Tony and Kev particularly wanting to work on drops and finding themselves working on achieving a drop off the side of one trail.

I was feeling pretty confident and was riding quite a few of the different trails, spending a bit of time on the wood doubles. I had one comedy incident involving too much speed and height which had me in a heap down the trail and a proper good bruise, but after a while we’d all completed successfully…

We were soon joined by Matt (I think) from Brighton who’s now joined the site (welcome mate – do we get commission Jimbo?) and it didn’t take long for him to find his groove and push us all on. After a break for lunch we moved on to tackle my regular Esher nemesis – the gapped table. (Tony, this quote is for you mate). I’ve done it once before, but not today… The issue I have is with the second gap, so, having pontificated for a while, I went for it. I got a good fast run in, completed the first gap, panicked and hit the brakes hard. Not sure of the next bit, except to say that I found myself jumping the second gap on foot and running in a ‘not in control’ fashion along the boards as the bike disappeared through the gap in a heap. After the hilarity from the others subsided, I conducted my ‘disaster debrief’ and concluded that I’d approached with the speed to clear the whole damn thing in one, and the mindset to complete the first gap and stop on the top. Inevitable disaster…

 Matt then decided it would be fun to show the ‘Daddy’ how it should be done. He duly completed, but only with a loud bang as his rear wheel hit the second gap and compressed his Enduro spring to the bottom. Still counts as a pass though, well done mate!

We were properly ‘sending it now’ and spent a good while going larger and larger on the final drops at the bottom of the hill and all of us pushed our personal limits without too many scary moments.

 All too soon the deadline came and I needed to get going, but a top days shore riding had been had by all. Cheers Tony for organising, and well ridden everyone. Let’s do it again soon…

 Big Daddy

You know what its like when you get an instruction to go to a conference that involves travel and an overnight stay – a few questions spring to mind: 

• How much free time?

• Where is the nearest ride spot?

• Can I take a bike with me?

• Can I avoid travelling with any colleagues in order to skive?

Well, this doesn’t happen to me much, but this time everything fell perfectly into place for me – a conference in Manchester, not starting until 6pm…. After a bit of ‘negotiating’ and ducking an’ diving, I found myself heading up the M6 with a hire car, colleague free, bike in the back and heading to the base of the Snake Pass in the High Peaks to meet my cousin who lives locally. 

On arrival, he told me that the plan was to ride up the road to the top of Snake Pass, turn off at the summit and follow the ‘Doctors Gate’ path back down the valley. So, after the usual Mtber faffing, we set off from Glossop and headed up. And up. The evidence to back up the notion that this is one of the most dangerous roads in Britain was everywhere! There were remnants of broken and crashed cars in the verges virtually all the way up and the crash barriers were deeply scarred from all the impacts. 

On a positive note though, very quickly the views opened out into spectacular hills, the occasion deposits of snow and waterfalls – happy days…

Then it got foggy. End of the views! Well mostly…

After half an hour of easy paced climbing we got to the summit and turned left off the road, almost straight into a foot of snow where the path should be. This was going to be fun…

It turned out that the snow didn’t last long and we quickly got the gate that marked the start of the descent proper. Despite the fog lingering, the views from here were seriously impressive. And then I clocked the first section of switchback rocky descent that was barely walkable, let alone ridable! Ahh, maybe I should’ve brought the Joker rather than the Truth…

Despite not being able to ride a lot of this section, it was a great laugh trying, and just being in such a beautiful and imposing place with a bike was a real treat.

Pretty soon, the path levelled a bit and became rideable, although it was still a real techy challenge, with large rocks, drop offs and deep, peaty, boggy sections waiting to catch us out.

A few sections we rode 2 or 3 times, pushing the limit of our technical abilities, and Dave surpassing his limits in very amusing fashion several times. 

As we headed on down the valley, we crossed a quaint bridge over the river and the path started to hug the river bank, often randomly heading up the side into rocky outcrops, and dropping down again just as suddenly which presented different challenges to the ride, with the added risk element of falling into the river…  Mind you, getting wet feet from the river would not have been an issue as my feet were soaked and filthy from getting stuck in those frequently deeper than expected boggy areas…

The path continued on down the valley as it widened and levelled out and the pace picked up. As we went through the final gate and the path became a farm track, I paused again to look back up the hill at the awe inspiring beauty (and the loony path that we’d just got 2 bikes down) and thanked by boss for sending me here… Well almost here).

We soon ended up back in the village and found the car, muddy, grinning (and speaking purely for myself) ready to do it all again! Instead, we headed for a local pub, got some proper good nosh in, chewed the cud about the ride, and all too soon headed our separate ways. 

Possibly the best ‘pre-work’ ride I’ve ever done, and only 20mins drive to Manchester…

Big Daddy

In order to equalise the effect of the usual overindulgent Christmas bingeing I’ve been riding and running a fair bit over the holiday period, culminating today in a 2hour hack on the north downs this morning.

 I couldn’t resist the minus 3 frost and frozen ground, so set off from home on my Ellsworth Truth and straight onto the north downs way below Reigate Hill, my mission to get to Box hill along the NDW as fast as I could, eat cake and return the same route. This path is usually very muddy through the winter, but today it was frozen and fast. I completed the long bridleway climb up to the top of Reigate hill in good time and got nice and warm, then set off along the ridge towards Colley Hill.

From Colley hill the NDW suddenly veers off and steeply down the scarp slope, with a sign at the top advising cyclists to dismount due to the steepness.

Yeah, right. Not too fast (always take more care when riding alone!), and ensuring I was on the right line to rail the berm near the bottom I completed the descent and continued on the frozen singletrack fun for a few miles, crossing the road at Pebble hill and then started the long climb back up onto the ridge line. This is a tough narrow and steep granny climb, often impassable because of slippery chalky mud, but today it was rock hard, rideable and had beautiful views south.

The truth was working awesomely and I made the climb with only a couple of dabs, up onto the ridge and along the part singletrack, part fireroad path all the way to Box hill Café. After a short stop for essential cake refuelling, I turned tail and headed back the way I’d come. By now some of the more open trails were starting to thaw so it was more difficult to predict which bits were slippery and which were still frozen solid, only making the ride more fun!

I was really into the ride now and feeling good, so I kept the pace high. It’s always interesting how the same path is so different when ridden in the opposite direction, and that steep technical climb was now a brilliant sketchy and fast descent back to the road.

From here it was back along the lower part of the hills taking in beautiful frosty scenery all the way

Next, it was up the steep climb onto Colley Hill. I’ve never cleaned this before – around the switchback it gets so steep that it’s barely possible to ride, and it’s slippery, but today the frost meant that, despite maxing out the heart rate for the whole 3 minute climb I made it. Well chuffed with that!

From there it was a very quick blast along the ridge, then down off Reigate hill and home. I completed the 18 miles in 2 hours 10minutes with a huge smile and absolutely loving the Truth. Riding’s Good…

Big Daddy