I had arrived at the brand new Avon Tyrrell venue in the New
Forrest. Just down the road from Crow Hill (a Southern XC regular), the course
was based upon the permanent activity centre trails around the perimeter of the
65 acre estate. The maintained paths featured bridged boardwalks to avoid
boggy areas. These were linked together with loamy singletrack, tightly squeezed
beneath the trees. The course was fast with several short inclines towards the
end of the lap.
As it was the final round, series positions were at stake. After
a slow start to the season I couldn’t match last year, but I knew who my main targets were. If I
could put a rider between them and myself by the finish I was still looking at
a top 15 place in the overall standings. Ignoring the usual frenetic start I
kept my marked men in sight as we swept into the gloomy wood. Working
my way past a few riders and up to the wheel of my main competitor I was
pushing on, but feeling comfortable. Faster trails do tend to suit me better
than slower twisty tracks. We then reached a fork in the trail, where the race route dived down onto
a section of boardwalk, but instead of turning into the slope I mistakenly followed the rider ahead onto
the ‘B’ line. Still cursing my stupidity we emerged back onto the main path and I found we had
actually gained two places! Now in 10th place I passed my lucky guide and was
hauling in the two riders ahead.
Towards the end of the lap the course joined a BMX tack. I
wasn’t going to be clearing the 'table top' jumps or landing a 'double', instead opting for the leg
and arm pumping ‘up and over’ technique. Much to the general amusement and
derision of the local youth who were in attendance down the side of the track.
As I turned into the final berm the steering felt odd and I began to sense I
might be losing front tyre pressure. Up the next climb it was hard to tell but
as we clattered over the roots down the other side the tyre was definitely squidgy
and then I heard the dreaded ‘psst, psst ,psst’ as the remaining air drained
away.
My frustration was surprisingly short lived. With
so little racing I was determined to finish, so started the jog back to the start arena.
With a little assistance from a few
friends a new tube was fitted and I was back underway. Over 10 minutes behind the race, I was now dead last, but you
never know what is going to happen! To my amazement I soon spied my main rival
in the series up ahead. He too must have had a problem and we were
reunited 10 minutes behind the field! Our race within a race ended a lap later
when his fault (it looked like a drivechain issue) reoccurred and he pulled to the side of
the course. I now knew that I just had to finish. Which I did! Pulling myself
back up to 15th on the day and 15th overall in the Southern Series.
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