Brass Monkeys - Round 3

I never sleep well before a race anyway, but I was woken early on Sunday by the sound of rain tapping on the window. It was still dark outside as I started my breakfast while the rest of the family slept. Cracking open the kitchen blind, the first glimmers of dawn ushered in a day as soggy as my Cornflakes.

The hours drive to Deepcut was through a wall of spray and the rain was still falling as I parked the car and trudged to the registration cabin. It finally stopped as I tied on my number board and headed off for a a pre-race warm-up. I tried to dodge the puddles as I stretched my legs, but still got a splattered face and a stripe up my back heading down the hill to the start line. 

For the final round the top 10 were gridded and I felt a small moment of pride when my name was called. As I stepped forward it also gave me an opportunity to see who my opposition was in the race for an overall ranking in the series. 

The race started with a long climb up a wide fireroad. I seemed to be dragging a lead weight as I watched the competitors I had just clocked on the start line swarm away up the hill, meanwhile I was swamped by the main field coming through from behind. I would have gone with the leaders pace if I could, but my heart rate was rising and only minutes into the race I told myself not to panic. The prizes aren't given out at the top of the first climb. 

I'd dressed for rain and was quickly perspiring heavily inside my waterproof layers. The sun was even trying to come out. First trip past the pits I dumped a gillet, undid my jersey and even tried to roll up my sleeves.

Conditions were best described as slimey on the first few laps. There was a lot of slithering and sliding and taking of alternative lines, in the hunt for grip. The passage of hundreds of tyres, as the race progressed, began to push the surface mud aside and a dry line (or often rut) began to appear around much of the course. In these areas it was grippy and fast. However, there were still some boggy bits that refused to dry out. One climb in particular was a real battle ground. It was muddy and slippery, so you had to really fight for any traction or purchase with the rear wheel. I saw lots of people walking to running, but I did manage to haul myself up each lap, even if it wasn't very pretty or much quicker than taking to foot!

The whole race I kept thinking we were one brief shower away from a total mud fest, but the rain held off. My lap times were about 30min so I quickly figured I would be racing 7 laps. As it happened I had paced myself well. I passed most of those runaways at the start, that had gone off like scalded cats, putting several minutes into several of them by the end of lap 5. I was uncomfortably comfortable, still pacing myself through the penultimate lap, to make sure I had enough fuel in the tank to get me home. Before the last lap began I polished off a final banana, gulped a gel and then I turned up the beans. 

To be honest I was more worried about being caught from behind, but there was also the chance I might catch somebody. And I did! With about 10minutes racing left I passed a rider at the base of one of the final inclines. I reeled him in easily and was sure now I was ahead I would ride away, but like a gun shot cramp hit my right thigh. It isn't easy to ride around cramp, you need to stretch it out. I tried to hide the fact I was crippled and managed to limp along the next section of singletrack. But there were a couple of small kickers before the last blast to the line and they did for me. I had to stop and walk up both before rolling across the line in 3hrs 44minutes. Turns out the other rider wasn't in my age category anyway! 

A 7th place finish on the day secured 6th position overall in the Brass Monkeys Series. I've been 5th a couple of times previously, but I am now one of the elder statesmen in the Veterans category so very pleased with my results over the 3 rounds. 

I drove home in torrential rain very grateful to the weather gods for granting us clemency between 10am and 2pm! 

Brass Monkeys - Round 2 Deepcut - New Year Hangover

The Brass Monkeys lived up to its name on Sunday. It was bitterly cold and the ground was white in places, but the sky was bright blue above the trees.

I’ve been racing at Deepcut for a looooong time and it was like a trip down memory lane riding round the course. Some sections I must now have raced hundreds of times! There was the  bomb hole where I once crashed a new bike within 5 minutes of getting on it. The sneaky gap that once upon a time I could squeeze my narrow handlebars through between the tree and fence while bouncing at warp speed down a rooty downhill! Sprinting for the win with cramp in both legs!

Despite the rose tinted nostalgia and sunshine, the race did not start so gloriously. Soon after we set off my front tyre went soft. It held some air, but handling in the bends became so tricky I was hemorrhaging time and losing places so I stopped to top it up. A handful of riders passed, but shortly afterwards I took a wrong turn and dropped further back. This meant I was stuck in the midfield and being held up badly. 

On the second lap the tyre went soft again so I made up no ground. This time I opted for a proper pit stop, spending a minute or more with the track pump and performing a wheel shake to re-distribute the latex in the hope of sealing the hole. Luckily this time it stayed inflated, but putting all the lost time together my race was already ruined.

One of my memories of Deepcut is a story of somebody falling into the canal which the course skirts alongside at several points. This may have been on my mind as I made a total mess of a steep rooty drop which headed down towards the frozen water. My front wheel washed out and I was over the bars and tumbling onto the frozen roots. It hurt and it took me some time to gather myself and the bike together before gingerly getting underway again.

I think all the stress and excitement of the opening laps got to me because once I did settle into the race I didn’t seem to have much va va voom! The course was punchy with lots of short little efforts required as it undulated up and down and left and right. Then there was the long draggy climb towards the end of the lap that just ramped up and up towards the sky! 

It was a fairly lonely race once everyone had spread out. I did have a chat with Richie as he came around to lap me towards the end! Otherwise the only racing tussle was with a rider I caught with a lap and a half to go. I was much faster in the technical stuff, but he was strong on the flat and the climbs and therefore able to fend me off when there was any chance to pass. I was tight on his wheel hunting for a way through as we hit a steep climb. As we battled up the slope, both out of the saddle, his rear wheel spun on the icey soil and he fell on his right. I grabbed the chance to squeeze past, just dodging his sprawling legs, only to then do exactly the same thing a moment later and fall flat on my backside! At least I was now ahead and was able to stay there and eventually move away.

The results took until late on Monday to be published - pleased with 7th. (Thanks Tim for the photos, sorry I was not in a good mood for conversation in the rush before the start or during the race either!!)

Brass Monkeys Rnd 1 - Minley Manor

Definitely surprised and also very happy! That is how I would summarise my solid top 10 result at Sundays first round of the Brass Monkeys winter series.

My excuses were ready before I lined up. 

1. I had a cold. A horrible bunged up, phlegmy sort of bug. Which was making my breathing rather crackly and laboured.
2. I was also hobbling around with a limp after tearing both calves playing badminton for the first time in 20 years.

I was there to make up the numbers and perhaps bag a few series points. My plan being to ride 20 miles and see how I was feeling. My motivation was lifted by a real belter of a course around Minley and the glorious sunshine. I spun around the first lap, not really in race mode at all, just enjoying riding my bike around the silky singletrack. 

Towards the end of the first lap I got the first indication things were going better than I'd thought. Ahead I spotted Elise. At last winters Brass Monkeys the two of us had been inseparable! It seemed we'd ridden every mile locked together by some invisible rope. As the favourite in the ladies race she'd started near the front of the grid and I hadn't expected to see her again. Crossing the line the commentator  barked over the tannoy that I was in 8th place. A position I'd have been pleased with if in ragingly good health.

I slipped to 11th on the next circuit, but I was encouraged and decided to make an effort and see how long I could keep it going. I passed Elise and worked my way back through the pack of 3 riders who had passed me. 

I stretched a gap of perhaps around a minute and then I felt the wheels completely come off. I redlined, suddenly totally low on energy, with absolutely nothing seemingly left in the tank. My legs were really hurting too. I was about half way through the race and everything told me to put an end to my suffering and return to my original plan of stopping at the end of the lap.

But that competitive side of me wouldn't let me quit! I decided to go back to how I had ridden the first lap. Not hammering the pedals, spinning the gears up the hills and not really pushing my breaking body too hard. It had worked at the start and to my surprise it worked now. The last two laps were mentally some of the toughest times I've had on a bike for a long, long time. Everything was telling me to stop and I couldn't see how I wasn't getting swamped by the riders behind, as I crawled around at what felt like a glacial pace. 

I calculated I had an hour of riding left and broke it down into 5min bites. Each minute of painful climbing meant I earned the chance to enjoy the singletrack on the other side. By some miracle I eventually dragged myself up the final climb and nobody had caught me.

I've been doing less hours on the bike than the previous 15 years. I wasn't feeling well and physically I am a bit broken at the minute. Somehow though, I still managed to book end my 2025 with two 8th place finishes! At the Brass Monkeys in January and again yesterday on the last day of November. I've no idea how I did it other than pure determination!

Gorrick Equinox XC 2025

Pre pandemic I was regularly racing XC at the weekend all through the year. I'm more focused on longer distance events now, but I was still amazed to find I hadn’t ridden a Gorrick XC for 2 years. 

That hiatus was my excuse for entering the 'Novice' category like a sneaky trophy hunter! When I looked around at my competitors I realised no excuse was needed! Where I had purposely not put on any team kit, I was surrounded by a professional looking peloton on blinged out S-Works Epics and Santa Cruz's worth over £££££10 grand!! 

The actual reason for me masquerading as a newbie was the race time. My daughter was doing her first ever race at 8.50. The family had come up to watch and I didn’t think they’d want to wait around for the Vets race to finish at 12.30pm. 

30 riders gathered on the grid in the chill, sunny autumn air. When the hooter sounded we shot off downhill as we’re familiar with at Highland Farm. I made a good get away from the 2nd row and could have lead into the singletrack. I deliberately held back though, because I hadn’t had time for a pre-ride while supporting my daughter, so I wanted a wheel to follow. It was a lucky choice because the rider who would have been on my inside washed out in the sandy soil as we swung around the bends at the bottom of the descent. Instead of wiping me out as he slid to the ground, I was able to brake and just slip by without getting tangled up.

I found myself in a comfortable 4th, rolling along in the snake of riders as we traversed the steep rooty climbs at the beginning of the lap. It felt easy and I wondered if I would have the embarrassment of winning the Novice race and having to sheepishly step on the podium hiding my face!

I am not sure what happened, perhaps somebody else took the lead, but the pace seemed to ramp up. 5 minutes later I was totally hanging, my heart rate maxed out as I struggled to keep my position in the chain of bikes! My thoughts now turned to the different potential embarrassment I’d face if I finished 20th (or lower) in a Novice race!   

The reality was that my body had probably forgotten the challenge of the constant on/off surging maximal efforts of a XC race. I've been riding regularly, but haven’t been doing any specific interval training.

The leader began to get a small gap and I knew I needed go with him if I was to stay in contention for the win. But I was trapped behind two other riders. The nature of Highland Farm means overtaking is limited to a few places where the singletrack widens briefly. Since everyone knows this, these sections become flat out sprints and nobody makes the progress they hope! (Well I didn't!)

I was bottled up until the front tyre of the rider in front of me slipped on a root. He was off the bike and despite falling into my path I scrambled through. I was now 3rd and quickly tight up behind 2nd place, but again with no way through. The crocodile of riders behind had begun to fragment and split up. I could hear stronger riders forcing their way through the pack towards the front of the race. I desperately needed to get into free air as soon as possible and build a gap before the faster guys were hot on my heels.

Frustratingly I stayed trapped. The paced dropped further, but he put on a great defence in front, despite my more and more desperate attempts to force a way through. We were into the 2nd lap before I finally got past by digging really deep on the first main climb of the lap. Bumping over the roots into 2nd place. The race now really began to hurt. I was all in, diving into the turns and making every effort I could in the acceleration zones out of corners.

But I wasn’t getting away. The next climb had two possible lines and two of my chasers clambered alongside and both managed to bundle through by cutting inside as we turned into the corner at the top. Now I was pushing just as hard as before only to hang onto their wheels. On the last climb of the lap the elastic broke and the gap in front of me grew. I wouldn't see either of them again.

Final lap. I was at least now free to ride at my own pace, so the last lap was my fastest. It felt like my heart was about to burst from my chest. A new pursuer had closed the gap behind. I sprinted the first two climbs out of the saddle, I held position, but I paid the price. A crippling stitch squeezed my chest with every painful pedal stroke as we entered the closing stages of the race. Each time the course allowed I coasted, gulping huge lung fulls of air. Then, when I needed to, I had to mash the pedals as hard as I could to keep the rider behind. I had my elbows out and cut the corners tight to stop his front wheel sneaking up the inside.

My wife captured the agony on my face as I tried to hang on through the final complex of turns. But I did it! Collapsing over the bars unable to speak after crossing the line.

When the result came through it transpired a mechanical or crash meant the original 'escapee' leader had dropped out, which had promoted me to 3rd!! An acceptable result for a 47 year old novice in his 96th XC race.  

At least there was a positive from the days racing. My daughter had crashed out of her race earlier in the morning. A later X-Ray revealed a Buckle Fracture in her left arm, above the wrist. That is 6 weeks off the bike so I won’t have to pretend to be a Novice next time out in October.

(Disclaimer: The Novice category used to be called Open. I've raced Open for years as it is intended to be 'open' to all.)

Goodbye to the Specialized Epic Evo

Yesterday was my last ride on the S-Works Epic Evo. I've owned it since September 2022 and covered 3000 miles. It was my XC race bike and Sunday best on the weekends in-between.

The final ride was quite a send off. A 98 mile and 9 hour epic, largely along the Southdowns Way to Winchester. The Evo was efficient on the climbs, took care of me on the descents and smoothed out the ripples all the way there and back.

This bike was my reintroduction to full suspension after 13 years of hardtails! It took me time to get used to the inherent bob. Even if I couldn't feel it, I could look down and see the shock compressing and opening with each pedal stroke. Even if it was infinitesimal, after the clinical efficiency of a hardtail, I found that lost energy hard to come to terms with. In reality the movement was slight and as soon as I hit the trails I usually forgot all about it. 

The massive positive of the suspension was it meant I finally rode some of the local trial features and obstacles which I've been eyeing up nervously (and avoiding!) for years. The dropper post certainly helped a lot here.

Initially built up with a 100mm fork, the bike was transformed when I plugged a 110mm Rock Shox SID into the headset. The bike felt instantly more balanced. I really enjoyed riding this bike. It had an aggressive nature and wanted to be ridden hard. A great XC race bike. The 9.7kg weight certainly helped!

Somedays I liked the colour, as the orange sparkled in the sunshine. On duller days it reminded me of the sensible car an older "more mature" driver might choose. Jazzy brown! 

The EVO is one of my shorter lived bikes, which is partly because it has lead me to quickly trying another full suspension rig. All will be revealed later this week.

Southern XC - New Forest Race Report

I last raced at Crow Hill in the New Forest 5 years ago, pre-Covid. It was at the Southern Area Championships and I double punctured that day, both rear and front tyres, rolling home in a disappointed 20th place. I went into this Sunday's race at Crow Hill with very different expectations; I'd be thrilled to get near to the top 20!

I've got the racing bug again after the Torq event a few weeks ago. I'd loved the buzz and adrenaline fuelled excitement of pushing myself as hard as I could, even the burning legs and screaming lungs! Also Crow Hill would be my favourite course now we seem to have lost access to Windmill Hill at Deepcut.

It is almost just as long since I last rode a Southern XC and experienced all the structure and regulations that come with a British Cycling sanctioned event. I knew it was going to be a tough day up against the best riders in the area, and some of the big names in the country.

A blustery wind was blowing, but the sun was shining and there was no sign of the forecast showers as I let the kids out of the back of the car. The race coincided with half term so I'd brought along my entire support team! My daughter has never seen me race and my son was only a toddler when he last came along, which feels strange when bike racing has been such a large part of my life. The fact they had come along was added motivation to not show myself up, as I realised I would be racing near the back of the field and I really didn't want to come last!

Soon after starting the practice lap I realised how hard the day was going to be. It had obviously rained heavily overnight and amongst the trees the course was very muddy and cut up from the mornings racing. Which reminds me. In all my years of racing I think this is the first time I've ever raced in the afternoon. The start time of 3pm had given me the unusual experience of a leisurely start to the day and not the usual early morning alarm and mad panic that often follows.

Back to the course. It was very churned up in places and some of the dips and depressions in the route were almost un-rideable. I was having to put down a lot of power just to keep moving forward, probably a too much effort for a practice lap. Then I got into the familiar bit of the course, where it undulates up and down, which is historically the bit that really suits me. This too was hard going, making the first half of the lap really tough. The second half although still a bit greasy was more flowing and less energy sapping, until the final killer climb up to the finish.

As I haven't raced yet this year I was gridded on the back row in 29th. On the starters whistle we sprinted off around the wide grassland loops created to help the field spread out before we hit the woods. I made a good getaway and made up a few places, then got baulked and gave some back before sneaking up the inside of a couple of people as we got into the sticky muddy bit in amongst the trees. 

We slithered around, rear tyres fish tailing left and right, throwing mud up into each others faces. It would have been quite funny if my heart hadn't been trying to escape from my chest! Eventually we settled into single file and I was pleased that there were people behind me! In fact in reality I was being held up, but instead of barging through I caught my breath as I sat in behind the rider ahead for a few minutes. When the course opened I snuck past, but the rest the pack were now almost out of sight. A couple of other riders who had also obviously been held up, came past me and I tried to go with them through the undulating section I remember so fondly. In previous years this is where I used my strength on the short punchy climbs to make up positions and time. Today I was just about able to hang on to those ahead.

I was deep into my red zone, there was no way I could keep this pace up for four laps. So in the more flowing section of the lap I took the chance to get what recovery I could.  After a few minutes of what I thought was an easier pace I checked my heart rate. It still read 168! When racing there is a different level of recovery.

The leading Grand Vets came past at the beginning of lap 2. I had to take some alternative and muddy lines to let them past which cost me a little time. In fact I almost lost control of the bike at one point, typically right in front of Steve who I regularly ride with at home.

For the next two laps I pushed as hard as I dared on that tricky tightrope of going as fast as possible without blowing up. I did lose a position and although I tried to hang on to his wheel for a while I had to let him go. As the end of the lap approached a rider caught me. I hoped he was a Grand Vet and was quite pleased when he surged past me up the final climb as I thought he was sprinting for the finish of his race. The line came and went and he continued for a 4th lap - he was a Veteran just like me. 

I chased him back down and hugged his rear wheel around the grass opening loop. We approached 4 kids standing beside the course behind the fluttering course tape. I recognised two of them and they were shouting "Go Daddy". But the other two were shouting the same thing! It was their Dad I was following!

I remained glued to the other Dads rear wheel as we ducked into the muddiest section. I knew he was putting down the power to shake me off, and he occasionally glanced over his shoulder to see if I was still there. I made a couple of mistakes as I fought to hang on. With a loud bang I clipped a pedal on a tree stump. He immediately looked back and then leapt on the pedals trying to make the most of the opportunity.  I fought and fought, digging deep and taking aggressive lines, I wasn't done yet!

Following closely again I was thnking of when I should attack and if I could get past before the next technical section and then slow the pace so I could recover a bit. The opportunity just didn't open up, instead I was clinging on for dear life.

We were into the final half of the lap now, charging through the sweeping corners and out onto an open fire road. As I sat in the slipstream gasping air into my lungs. I began to realise I wasn't the strongest rider here. My only hope was to desperately hang on until the final climb and hope against hope that I had a stronger kick in a sprint. 

At the end of the fireroad a tiny, tiny gap no more than a meter opened between us. It was as if the elastic had snapped! I was at my absolute limit but continued to lose ground, I couldn't close him back down this time. I kept pumping hard on the pedals getting out of the saddle when I could, desperate to close the gap. There was nobody behind and I could have just sat up and rolled to the line, but what if the guy in front made a mistake? I needed to keep the pressure on and be ready to pounce if there was an opportunity. 

Heading up the final slope to the finishing line about 10 meters behind the other rider, there were more shouts of "GO ON DAD!" from both families.  I crossed the line a few seconds back but I had enjoyed every second of the challenge. I was even happier when I checked the result - 24th. I might not be anywhere close to troubling the fast boys at the front of the race, who were enjoying the podium ceremony by the time I crossed the line. However, if I keep training and progressing then the top 20 is definitely in sight. With this thought I enjoyed a Calzone pizza with the family half an hour later. Another bonus of racing in the afternoon!

Torq 3:6:9 race report

I'd written down my goal for yesterday's Torq 3:6:9. Not a finishing position,  I'd simply jotted down "Feel racey". Rather brilliantly, after a frenetic final lap and sprint to the line that's exactly how I did feel.

It has been a difficult road over the last 6 months since I was found collapsed on the stairs at home. At times I've done almost no riding and certainly no structured training. A previous attempted return to racing was too early and did more harm than good. May 5th had become my new target date.

Any other year the old diesel powered, long distance trucking Ben would have been signed up for the 9 or certainly 6 hour race. Given where my health is this year it was the 3 hour race I lined up for. It felt like a cop out but I also knew it meant I'd need something I've rarely ever had - speed!!

I don't feel fit so I knew every other part of my day needed to go to perfectly plan. Amazingly it did! I arrived on time (for once) and completed a full, stress free, practice lap,  which included a couple of warm up efforts. I got to the start in time to find a position near the front of the grid. I stayed to the side and kept out of trouble at the start, burning some matches by sprinting hard to maintain a good position in the pack so I didn't get held up at any of the first lap bottle necks.

As we coasted through some single track on the first lap, I knew it had gone well. Now it was all about how long I could hang on to my position! Slowly but surely riders slipped past and I'd valiantly hang on for a bit before slowly losing the wheel. It was fun but I was digging deep. 

It was a 6.5 mile lap so, I'd calculated I'd need sub 36 minute laps if I was to complete 5 laps. This is what I guessed the leaders would do. My first lap was 34.53 and my next 34.56. Could I hold the pace for nearly 2 more hours? I'd had a good start but I'd pushed hard and my pace would surely drop. 

The course had a punchy first half with some leg sapping climbs, then a fantastic flowing and fast end to the lap. I was having fun attacking the inclines (normally my strength) and leaning the bike through the fast curves (where I often struggle).

My next lap was a 35.58 almost dead on the 36 minute target,  meaning I had 2 minutes in hand. However the legs were hurting and my pace was slowing as it surely had too. I also needed a stop for a bottle, gel and banana to get me through the final two laps. 

Including the stop lap 4 was 37min 

As I began my 5th lap I knew it was going to be extremly tight for time. I pushed manically when I could, and was out of the saddle emptying every muscle in my body to drag myself up the climbs. I silently cursed each back marker I caught, even if they only cost me a second or two before letting me past. 

Into the final singletrack I looked down and I had a minute to make it to the line. I was never going to make it, but I wasn't giving up yet. The rider infront of me sat up, he'd given up,  but I hammered past him onto the final arrow straight gravel road to the the finish banner. I locked out the suspension put my head down and sprinted with every screaming sinew of my body! 

Once I'd got my breath back I walked round to the timing screen. There I was, listed in 9th place, but my finishing time was 3 hours 23 seconds. Arrrgh!

My final lap didn't count and that dropped me to 11th. Normally I'd be disappointed and I am a bit,  but it was far more important today that I had been able to push myself to the limit and enjoyed every single bit of the process. It was great to be back!

Taking a break

In my previous post I talked about targeting the 4 hour category at the final round of the Brass Monkeys series. A few days later the reality of my current health sank in. Now isn't the time to be trying to stretch or push myself.  I am currently totally exhausted as I try to recover my health. The stress of a race was actually the last thing I needed to put myself through. In the end the decision to miss the race was actually a really easy one to make. 

After a few weeks of trying, and failing, to get back to a decent training schedule I've stepped back. I'm riding when I feel I have the energy reserves, keeping outings short and local, taking care not to push myself. 

Cycling has always been a form of therapy for me and how I relax. Now more than ever this is the focus of my rides. I've spent some money building the fully rigid hardtail back up. I enjoy the purity of this sort of riding and the rigid fork slows the pace so I just enjoy the countryside and the company. 

After years of pushing myself to hit training targets and riding every day it hasn't always been easy to sit back and let the days go past without getting in the saddle. In the long run I know it is the best route to recovery.

Brass Monkeys - The New Year Hangover - Race Report

Just making it onto the start line on Sunday was my goal achieved. After being ill in November and taking 4 weeks totally off the bike at the beginning of December, my aspiration during my slow recovery since then had been to get well enough to just attend the ‘Muc-off Brass Monkeys - The New Year Hangover’. I didn’t commit to the full 4 hour race, instead opting for the softer 3 hour Open category. I was extremely pleased I made this decision!  

Conditions on the morning were cold and bright, which made a change from the excessively wet weather we’ve been enduring. It wasn’t just the weather that was different, we also congregated at a new venue - Eelmore Plain. First impressions were positive, with good parking and a nice tarmac area for warming-up.

I rolled up at the very, very back of the large grid of riders. I can honestly say I’ve never started this far back in a Brass Monkeys. By stretching and peering through the gaggle of jostling riders ahead of me, I could just about make out a friend on the front row.

Once the starting horn had blown Jon was long gone by the time I rolled out onto the start loop. The course Gorrick had put together at Eelmore was a mixture of broad, open sandy trails linked by loamy singletrack amongst the trees. Early on there was a water splash crossing and I thought to myself that’s a nice novel feature! Then we met another, and then another and another. It went on and on. The water table was so high that sometimes there were quite long stretches where pedalling meant dipping your feet into the water. 

On the first lap I felt ok despite the conditions. At the very first big braking zone my lever pulled straight to the handlebar, but that wasn’t hugely surprising given the grim conditions. It was just disappointing it happened so early. The flat nature of the course meant it was hard for me to make much impact on those in front. So I sat in the snake of riders, who gradually fell off, ground to a halt in the mud or just faded away. Until I was left following another friend of mine, Ian, over the line to complete lap 1. 

Just 35 minutes into the race and I could already feel the lactic building in my legs. I hadn’t ridden for 3 hours since October so I’d already known that Sunday was going to test me physically. I passed Ian, but with my legs burning and the lack of rear brake, I had little confidence in the slippery conditions. I was honestly just thinking about getting back to the carpark and heading home.

When I got to the end of the 2nd lap I rolled through the line, but I kept going. I’m not sure why. Partly because an old school friend was there and it seemed wrong to call it quits while he was excitedly shouting, “Go on Ben!”

On the next lap I got wetter and more tired. I now had almost no brakes front or rear. It was lucky the course was fairly flat and SO muddy, as this meant there wasn’t much speed involved to require braking! Where I did miss the brakes was when controlling the bike in slides or through technical sections. Instead I just ploughed onwards, crashing through the roots and bomb holes. This time I was definitely going to stop when I got to the line. But as the line drew near I talked myself into doing at least 2 hours to equal (and justify) the hours journey time there and back to Eelmore. So on I went.

I was wet, physically exhausted and the bike was mechanically a mess. It wasn’t just the brakes that the elements had destroyed. Every pedal stroke sounded like stirring gravel with a metal spoon. Truth be told I wasn’t enjoying myself - at all. This is very unlike me, as I usually get a real buzz and a kick from racing. I stopped in the pit area at the end of the next lap and rinsed water from my bottle through the brakes, hoping to breath some life back into them. I teetered on the very verge of packing it in, but in the end I ate a banana, swigged some water, looked around  and set off again. At this point I thought there was technically time for 2 more laps, but I soon realised that I was right on the cusp. So when that 5th lap was finally complete this time I did head for the car, knowing that nobody behind me would be completing another lap either.

In the end I’m pleased with 7th place. I know I wasn’t in the main race with the fast boys, but considering how it had felt at the time I’ll take it. The challenge I’ve set now is to do the 4 hour race in 3 weeks at the final round of the series. I hope I continue to feel better and surely the conditions can’t be as bad as there were at Eelmore.

Stolen Goat Climb and Conquer Winter Cycling Gloves Review

I've bought several items of clothing from Stolen Goat that have become some of my favorite bits of kit. For example the winter jersey is outstanding when the temperature takes a dive. So I happily splashed out on their winter gloves.

Cold hands is a real issue for me on the bike. I am well known amongst my friends for my lobster claw gloves on winter rides. These gloves are big and bulky which means dexterity with brakes and gears is restricted. When I saw an ad for the Stolen Goat "Apocalypse proof" gloves I ordered really hoping they would be the holy grail of winter cycling gloves for my cold pinkies. Especially since I've had a lot of success with Stolen Goat before.

The gloves are advertised as waterproof and windproof as well as suitable for colder temperatures. The promised warmth is surprising as there isn't much bulk to the material, little more than a thick woolen glove in appearance. There are silicone dots on the palms for grip and the grey finger tips are for using your mobile phone.

The recent cold weather means I've been able to get a good range of experience with the the Stolen Goat gloves. First up was a road ride with the temperature in the mid to high single digits. It wasn't that cold and the gloves were more than up to the task. On the positive side they didn't get too hot and clammy and the silicone grippers and the touch screen fingers worked a treat.

Next up was an MTB ride, one or two degrees below zero. I didn't take any risks and wore a thin liner inside the Stolen Goats. The ride was bearable. While off-road and when climbing my hands didn't get cold, but they definitely weren't warm and toasty either. On any long descent or on road sections when my speed was higher, my fingers were uncomfortably chilly. Also the gloves now look decidedly second hand. Trail side brambles and twigs have plucked at the woolen type surface, creating bobbles and pulls. Not holes, but the appearance is rather ruined on only their second outing.

Next ride was a classic UK winter ride. Temperatures started around 0 and then rose a degree or three as the ride progressed. Again I used liners and things were about bearable, but when I got home I had the painful wait for the feeling to slowly return to my fingers.

The final ride was at 5 degrees Celcius with showers of rain. Sadly my hands got wet, although luckily the wind proofing did work and stopped my hands getting too cold. The damp seemed to initially soak into the palm and fingers where I was squeezing the gloves against wet grips.

I do like the fit of the gloves, the long cuff allows you to pull them over a jersey sleeve and/or tuck them up inside your jacket. Creating a nice seal against the elements. 

Overall my experiences with the Stolen Goats have been a disappointment. They are sadly not a replacement for my Lobster Claw gloves. They do however provide good grip and control in cool temperatures, so I can see myself using them at the autumn and spring ends of the winter season. I've also worn them under my lobster claws and that is the ultimate cold weather protection. However, there was a lot of material between my hands and the controls, but it was manageable and better than numb digits! I'd also add that the open weave material means these are really just for the road, as they are going to look very tatty very quickly if I keep using them on my MTB. Also there is no nice dedicated nose wiping area, so you end up just using the general glove which isn't ideal or kind on the poor nostrils.

Conclusion: Ok if the apocalypse is dry and the temperature is above 5 degrees!

Is cycling an addiction?

I aim to ride my bike everyday. It makes me happy when I do and it is part of my normal daily routine. Up to the end of October I had ridden 291 out of the 304 days this year. The missed days almost exclusively due to family holidays and travelling overseas for work. Then at the beginning of November I got ill and I've had to address a period of time away from my bikes.

First and foremost I ride, as I said, because I simply enjoy it. Cycling is how I relax and socialise. It is a way to keep fit, with some competitive goal always in my mind for motivation. However, I will admit that there are other pressures at work that lead me to suspect I am addicted to cycling.

The truth is I don't think I could stop. If I miss just a single ride I will start to get quite grouchy. The drive of this addiction is motivated throughout the year by weekly and monthly totals of hours in the saddle and miles ridden. I have a spreadsheet dating back to 1999 and the numbers in there are what drive me. Every week, every month, every year I am always conscious of my own history and I am always trying to beat it.

In my head I have set myself standards I consider acceptable, or in other words, minimum goals. 6000 miles a year is the starting point. That breaks down to 500 miles a month. February is always tough, as is August if we're fortunate enough to have a 2 week family holiday. 100 miles is the least I will accept in any single week. I must spend at least 7 hours covering those miles although I'm targeting ten. Even the rides themselves have goals within them. A weekend isn't a success without a ride ticking over the 3 hour mark. During that 3 hour ride I should cover at least 40 miles with 1000m of climbing. All this is totally irrelevant in terms of a structured training regime, it is based on the past 25 years and what I consider is acceptable.

These self imposed rules dominate my life. If for some reason I don't hit all of the targets in any given week, I can live with that. I work hard to catch-up the following week. However if I start to miss my goals for a couple of weeks the grumpiness builds. Monthly targets are now in jeopardy and therefore also the magical 6000. Unreasonably it will effect how I am with my nearest and dearest. My wife will probably end up sending me out on my bike and telling me not to come home until I've cheered up! To be fair it works.

So I don't cope well with being ill. I'll already not be feeling good and then as the days pass I can sense the rides slipping away one by one. The current period I am in is especially bad as it has been keeping me off the bike for longer than a week and the end isn't clearly in sight. Today marks the two week point since I last turned a pedal. My legs were tingling in bed last night, keeping me awake. I tossed and turned imagining it was the fitness literally seeping out of them.

The logical part of my brain tells me that 2 weeks is neither here nor there for a recreational mountain biker like myself. There is nothing logical about it though. Actually the issue is growing each day, burning and swelling inside me until I will have to give in. Especially as I start to feel better the pressure mounts, stronger and ever stronger to rush things and to get back on the bike. What harm will it do after all? By now in my head my legs have become spindly, wasted beanpoles unable to turn a crank. I must start the recovery right now! Hold on I can barely stand for more than 5 minutes. Never mind that, you are sitting down cycling so you'll be fine....

I daren't look at my spreadsheet, oh no I have! The damage that two fat zeros has done in the mileage and hours columns is a disaster. Boosted by my spring ride across Europe, 8000 miles hadn't been out of the question for 2023. That's gone now.

But hold on.....

As I scan back I can see that my second highest total in a year is 7178.6 miles. That should still be possible, shouldn't it? Doctor when can I get back on the bike please?

Time out for illness

In recent weeks I've felt stronger on the bike than I have for some time. I definitely felt the good vibes and muscle memory return during the 2nd and 3rd laps of my race last week. I was buoyant and was looking forward to raising a challenge to the top ten again at the Brass Monkey winter series.

Then I got a cold. I hadn't been anywhere other than the race so I might even have picked it up there. What started as a sore throat has now triggered my asthma and rather than simply slowing me down has taken me off the bike altogether. I'm on steroids for the first time in almost 30 years and climbing the stairs is enough to get me out of breath.

In reality a week off isn't going to make a big difference to my fitness, but I'm laid up frustratingly just when I wanted to push on.

Race Report - Gorrick Halloween XC Classic

That race day feeling of butterflies in the pit of my stomach was back! I woke early on Sunday because the clocks had gone back. I therefore had more time for the anxiety and stress levels to rise as I pushed my cereal around the bowl. In the car I switched on the radio for a distraction, but my stomach churned more and more the nearer I got to Frimley Green. Then as soon as I arrived it was like somebody had flicked a switch, all nerves disappeared. Despite a 9 month hiatus I slotted into my pre-race routine, my mind preoccupied with the process of preparing bike and rider for the Gorrick Halloween XC Classic.

It had rained all week, the ground was sodden and grey clouds loomed ominously. However, the sun was shining as I unpacked the bike and checked the tyre pressures. When I started my warm-up and reconnaissance lap I was surprised to quickly encounter two quite large drops or steps. Not scary (it is Halloween) but challenging for a Gorrick course! Lucky I had left my dropper post in, as I had considered removing it given the usual simple nature of these courses. The drops were both rollable, if I hung over the back tyre. From then on it was the usual course at Highlands Farm. Flat, twisting and narrow. It was almost impossible to pass even on the warm-up and I ended up trundling around in a chain of riders. Despite all the local flooding the course was in brilliant condition, the bike wasn't even getting dirty. As we closed back in on the car park though, the first fat drops of rain began to fall. Putting on a spurt I scurried back to the car, where I pushed back the drivers seat and sat munching a banana watching the water droplets have their own race down the windscreen. All the roots in the wood were getting a nice glossy sheen.

Sitting at the start I unzipped my gillet before deciding to leave it on. I'd not forced my way to the front as I would have done once. It had been a while and my confidence wasn't there. I instead settled in on the back row and checked the shaved legs and racing snake physiques of my competitors. Which didn't help my confidence. I hadn't ridden in the wet for months. I hadn't raced for months. Yet here I was about to sprint off into the trees with this crowd, who would probably leave me for dead. With these positive thoughts running through my head the starting horn blew!

The first few corners were a deafening screech of wet disc rotors. Tyres were creating deep ruts in the now wet loamy soil. Mud was flicked up into my face as I followed the wheels ahead and tried hard to stay out of trouble amongst the melee. About a minute into the race I looked up. I'd guess there were about 20 riders ahead, not bad. I glanced behind. There were just three grim faces staring right back at me. Not so good!

We followed the the sinuous flapping lines of striped marker tape. There was nowhere to pass so I couldn't move forward, but equally I couldn't drop back any further either! I heard the horn as the Grand Vets race was released a few minutes after us. Soon I could see the leaders closing in on us as we were repeatedly backed up by conjestion and racing incidents. Some ahead chose to run to avoid the latest hold up of tangled riders, but I managed to stay on the bike and gain a few spots.

I know the leader of the approaching Grand Vets, I used to sponsor him in my previous life as a bike shop owner. "Hi Ben" he shouted, which is a polite way of saying "Get out of the f*#king way slow coach". I let him through and it wasn't long before another friend of mine was also on my wheel. He was fighting for a podium so I almost came to a halt to let him past, but three more riders on his wheel plus annoyingly somebody from my own category all pushed past me as I wasted 10 seconds being the good Samaritan. Where was my race head?

The leaders of the other race coming through had split my race up. I decided to follow the Grand Vets as they picked their way through the Veterans field. After all I should be able to hold the pace of these old boys! Tucking in with them I pulled the same trick that had just been pulled on me, sneaking past a few people without them spotting my Veteran number board.

Following the faster riders got my juices flowing. The back wheel fishtailed as I put down the power out of the bends. The brand new Fast Trak tyres did a great job of inspiring confidence in the slippery conditions. The T7 compound on the back would normally be a front tyre but probably helped provide some grip over those shiny roots.

I was moving forward but on such a fast course it was hard to make up the ground I'd lost at the start. To reel in the next target or pull away, I pushed as hard as I could on any remotely straight section of trail. Sometimes having to be quite cheeky and creative to sneak past.

I'd just got past a couple of riders and they were in hot pursuit as the last lap began. The lactic burn was beginning to build up in my legs and for a moment I worried I'd blow up. I hung on as the lap progressed but didn't shake them off. I was getting held up by a back marker so I desperately lunged to get ahead of them going into the final loop to the finish. I was thankful to get somebody in between myself and my pursuers. Then with less than a minute of racing remaining I saw a rider ahead. I put down every ounce of energy I had left and was lucky to reach him just as the trail briefly widened just enough for me to power straight through. I was now nearly dead in the saddle, but there was no way he could get back past if I just kept a tidy line around the last few bends and thankfully I then had enough for the last kick to the line.

I'm happy with the result of 13th. I might not have been threatening the front runners, but I had a great day and remembered the shear joy and adrenalin of racing.

Which cross country race tyres for winter?

It is less than two weeks to my first race since January. I was left really demotivated by my last results, to the extent I haven't bothered racing at all this season. Despite there being some national events really close by, I've put my head in the sand and focused on other cycling related goals. I've missed the buzz however and feel that recently I've been riding into a little bit of form. Time will tell!

Autumn riding hazards. I'm not sure any tyre grips on these!

The long Indian summer in the UK, stretching deep into October has certainly helped. Over the past month, with family holidays and work travel behind me I've been able to get in a consistent 10 hours of training each week. The trails have been beautiful and dry, which has been great for encouraging me to get out on the  bike, but actually might not be representative of what I'm going to face over the winter.  

With mud in mind I've bought some new tyres. I come from an era where we raced 26x1.75in tyres because we thought they were light and fast. They were certainly lightweight, some of the  skinniest dipping well under 500g. That means I really struggle now when I'm tyre shopping. The current crop of xc 2.35in race tyres are frequently over 700g. I've never put that much rubber on any bike, let alone my race bike.

The prices are also hard to come to terms with. £50 for something  that you might tear during the first ride is tough to swallow. I've tried Schwalbe Rocket Rons and Racing Rays, Maxxis and Continental, but the price and the weight have left me searching for something else. Therefore I'm happy to turn to an old favourite of mine, the Specialized Fast Trak. Not a true winter tyre by any stretch, but a good all rounder that will live with winter conditions without such a draggy tread that it will hold me back on race day. For less that £40 too.

The Fast Trak comes in different 'flavours' depending how much grip you are looking for. I've just received a Control T7. The Control casing offers puncture protection without a massive weight penalty. The Gripton T7 is a softer rubber compound that I hope will help when faced with wet roots and soft loamy soil. I already have a Control T5 which is made of slightly harder rubber for less rolling resistance and more speed. The new T7 weighs 715g which is about 25g more than the T5 and as I mentioned makes it hard for me to consider it as a 'race' tyre. So I've also bought an S-Works Fast Trak. This is made with a combination of the fast rolling T5 compound in the center and gripper T7 around the outside. All for a wonderful weight of 630g. The lower weight is due to a thinner 120tpi casing which I hope is nice and supple on the front wheel, offering more grip. The trade off is that it certainly won't be as tough, so comes with the increased risk of punctures.

With these three tyres I should be able to find a combination for whatever the  race day weather gods decide to throw at us.  

Stay safe cycling with a tracker

Just over four years ago I went missing while out on an evening ride after work. The sun set, my dinner got cold and my wife had absolutely no idea where I was. I wasn't answering my phone and in her mind I could have been dead or in agony amongst the trees of any wood within a 20 mile radius. I was eventually found 5 hours after I left home, by a road worker. I was lying, still unconscious, at the side of the A27 close to the Shopwyke foot crossing, just east of Chichester. 

Any route out to the trails from my house takes me over the A27. The main link road along the south coast of England. I have no recollection of what happened that evening. My Garmin tells us I was on my way back, just a couple of miles from home. Then I didn't move for 3 hours. Amazingly I was largely unscathed apart from a head ache and a few scuffs and grazes. The main damage was psychological. I feel terrible for what my wife must have gone through. It must have become very apparent to her something bad had happened and there was absolutely no way for her locate me. She rang all my friends, but I was on my own and there was no advice or help they could offer. I'd be a mess if roles were reversed. I of course was actually blissfully oblivious, dozing away in the long grass. But I do think sometimes about what would have happened if my injuries had been more serious or that road worker hadn't spotted me amongst his traffic cones?

From that day on I have always ridden with some form of tracker with me, so people know where I am. Currently that is the Lifef360 app on my phone. I've used this to enable people to track me on adventures all over the world and it is great - provided you have phone signal. There were a few times on my South Downs Double ride when the app reported that I'd failed to move for 15 minutes. My family thought I'd come a cropper or had a puncture, while presumably I actually traversed a valley or was deep in a wooded area away from phone masts. I feel naked now if I realise in the middle of a fast descent that I've forgotten to turn on my mobile data.

For a long time this year the Shopwyke crossing on the A27, where I had my accident, has been closed. They have replaced the existing crossing with a bridge. I'd been finding alternative crossing points since my incident, but as soon as it opened I was eager to return to the most direct route out to Goodwood.

The walkway/cycleway is very wide, much wider than any other bridge in the area. It links two traffic free roads and I expect will become my primary crossing point again, now I can cross without having to dodge lorries and cars at 70mph. 

Maximum Heart Rate

It has been a while since I raced and the results earlier in the year were disappointing. I could ride consistent lap times all day long, but they weren't fast enough. I'd done the base miles training for other things like the South Downs Double, but had no top end speed.

The other week for some reason the usual Sunday Social ride became an off-road team time trial. We tore along the trails at warp speed trying to rip each others legs off on every climb, descent and all the bits in-between! I spent over an hour of the 3hrs I was riding with the guys, in my top heart rate zone.

I was ruined when I got home but I hadn't got dropped or spat out the back of the group. The others have been racing all summer so it had hurt but it gave me hope. Since then I've been following a more structured week, instead of just crunching out the miles.

Part of this is something I haven't for done a while. Hill rep intervals! When I was younger I'd head out every Tuesday and push the heart rate monitor up to 220. Now-a-days I'm coughing up a lung at about 185bpm.

It hurts and the final rep is always torture, but the raging endorphins riding home and the sense of achievement is worth it. I've got a month until the Gorrick Halloween race. Lets hope I'll have more va-va-voom when the starting horn sounds.

Summer continues!

Strava reminded me that it was a year ago today that my road bike came out of its annual Summer hibernation. So far this year it is still tucked up in the shed. It hasn't been ridden since the 13th April (the day we arrived in Barcelona!)

Maybe today was our last chance to ride dry trails, under blue sky's, with the sun warm on our backs. Autumn is surely coming.

Madison Crypto Glasses First Ride Review

I haven't had new cycle specs for a couple of years, so although I have finally switched over to longer socks, I admit I haven't been at the cutting edge of fashion posing at the local cafe. My real motivation however for buying some more glasses was that I needed some clear lenses ahead of winter, as my old ones are getting scratched and tired.

There are two options with glasses. Splash out on the latest designer brand (you know I mean Oakley) and hope they are tough and durable and provide many years of service. Or go cheap and cheerful, knowing that in reality you'll sit on them or lose them somewhere in the wood within 2 weeks of purchasing. 

At £45 the Madison Crypto's lean more towards the second category. On first impression though they punch well above their relatively low price. I was very impressed with the quality packaging.

Inside the box the glasses came fitted with the mirror tint lenses, as these look the most striking. Also included are some yellow tinted lenses for low light levels and the clear lenses that I was originally after. There is also a nice case to keep everything together and a pouch for polishing and storing the glasses in.

I bought these at the beginning for September with Autumn and the coming winter in mind. However, the weather currently has other ideas and the first ride was on a beautiful sunny day with temperatures in the mid 20's. Therefore I left the mirror lenses in and hit the trails.

The most obvious thing about the Crypto's is how the large profile is very on trend. Offering maximum coverage, like a wide screen TV on my face. Despite the sunshine it had rained a few days earlier and there was plenty of mud still being flicked up by my front tyre and from the guys in front. Nothing was getting past these lenses though! 

The risk might be that instead of my vison being attacked from the front, things start to mist up on the inside. I certainly worked up a decent sweat chasing my usual riding buddies, but had no issues with steaming up. This is helped by the adjustable nose piece which allows you to space the lenses with a slight gap to allow air to circulate. Obviously everybody's face is different but the wrap is spot on for me. I also didn't have sweat dribbling down the inside which is often an issue I have. 

My first ride was a definite success. The tinted lenses were occasionally a bit dark under the trees, so I slide the glasses down my nose and peered over the top like a stern school mistress! I look forward to popping in the clear lenses in the near future and providing an update.

The Crypto have the latest modern look and I think exude a quality above the price tag. No need for brand envy here while chatting at the trail head. Based on the first ride there were no issues and I didn't really think about them once we were cycling, which is the best thing to say about something new, but so fundamental to riding in comfort.