The riders began to gather around the start banner nervously chatting. I’d already been there for 15 minutes with memories of the days when Open races regularly featured fields of over 100 riders and you needed to arrive early if you wanted a competitive starting position. There was no such problem today as we rolled up to the line barely four rows deep. Despite the lower turnout I’d already clocked some familiar faces likely to be challenging for the win. These included two riders local to my neck of the woods on the South Downs. As ever in an Open category race there were also some unfamiliar faces, the ringers, their lean physiques and tricked out rides marking them out as possible front runners.
From the starters signal we plummeted down to the first corner. I’d already seen an ambulance in attendance after an earlier start line pile up, but we all clattered over the roots safely and around the bend at the bottom. It was a beautiful Autumn day and the course was running fast after a week of dry weather. If it had been wet the roots would have been a completely different challenge.
I was 3rd wheel chasing the two riders ahead, with the pack hot on my heels. At the base of the first climb the leader stumbled slightly on the roots and I was through into second following one of the unfamiliar faces I’d seen at the start. An unknown quantity! Would he now ride away?
The course couldn’t have been better designed for me. Repeated short inclines linked by fast singletrack. I was comfortable following down the descents and at this stage riding slightly within myself on the climbs. Looping backwards and forwards, it was easy to track those behind and as the lap progressed. Three of us had formed a lead group that slowly gapped the rest of the field. Sensing the pace slowing I did something I had never done at a Gorrick in 13 years, I took the lead! It didn’t last for long as I was quickly chased down by the other rider in the group, the local legend I still know by his Strava alter ego of Spider Pig.
Taking the lead had pushed me slightly into the red and the gap opened ahead of me. I completed the first lap 9 seconds back, but with a healthy lead on the chasers behind. I used the climbs to get back on terms, the gap yo-yoing slightly until I found myself back in front again. I pushed on and my lead steady widened to around 30 seconds.
42 races over 13 years is how long I had been trying to win a Gorrick. For long periods over those years the goal of winning one of these races had consumed my thoughts and been my overriding aim. Following my first race where I came 49th my results had improved to consistent top 10 runner, and then the podium. Two 3rd places remained my previous best. Now I found myself in the lead.
I was pumped and feeling good, the gap still seemed to be going out as I powered into the final lap. The twisty course meant I had regular sight of Jason behind, which only heightened my concerns of getting caught. I also began to worry about the bike – surely a mechanical issue wouldn’t deprive me of victory? Would it? I’d been up late the night before rebuilding the rear hub and bleeding the brakes. I was cautious under power and with gear changes. My racing line between the trees started to get a little conservative and I winced every time I saw glass glistening in the trail.
It wasn’t until the final fast sweeping section that I began to realise this was actually going to happen! I crossed the line victorious thumping the handlebars with excitement. I don’t win very often and it meant a lot to finally achieve something I have strived for so many years to achieve. I drove home singing loudly along to the radio with a huge grin on my face.
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