Brass Monkeys Round 1 - I've missed racing

On Sunday I took part in what was only my third race of the year. Not great for a blog called Ben Races Bikes I admit! This is the lowest number of events I've entered in a calendar year since I began racing way back in 2003. I've ridden at least 5 races every year since then. 

Sundays result of 18th was my worst for some time which perhaps shows a bit of rustiness. So why haven't I raced more?

One factor is there are less XC races to enter. The reduction in the number of the local Gorrick events and cancellation of some of my annual regulars like the G100 and Brighton Big Dog is a factor. However the Southern XC Series is still going strong, but I didn't even bother with the Southern UK Championships this year. I think a large part of this is that I don't have anything to prove to myself any more. I know that if I train regularly I can be a competitive top 10 age group racer locally, but I'm never going to qualify for the Olympics! More importantly though, with two kids growing up fast it is harder to justify taking an entire day out of the weekend and having to pay for the privilege to do so. 

I still love the buzz of racing however! It was great to be back between the tape on Sunday, pushing myself to the limit and challenging myself against those I was racing. The camaraderie of racing is also something that can't be replicated. After 4 hours flogging yourself trying to beat them I love the Adrenalin fuelled laughter and excited debrief amongst competitors afterwards as you all gather behind the finish line sharing stories of how your races went and how you could have finished 30 seconds quicker if only.....

I'd definitely missed it, so I'll certainly be aiming to race the remaining Brass Monkeys winter series. That should be 2 events by the end of January, lets see what the rest of 2023 holds in store! 

My new ride - Specialized S-Works Epic Evo

 After more than 10 years riding hardtails I've made the switch to a full-susser. The last time I had squish at both ends of my bike was when 26in wheels and double chainrings were still in style! 

When 29ers first appeared on the scene their bigger, better rolling wheels made full suspension redundant for the XC racing I was doing. The bike was lighter and the large diameter rubber rolled over roots and rocks without needing 100mm of extra travel in the frame. I also love the purity and lightweight nimbleness of a hard tail, giving a telepathic feel and connection with the terrain beneath you. 

The geometry of 29er's progressed and the technology too making a full-suss 29er the most common bike out on the trails and at races. Still I stayed loyal through three generations of S-Works hardtails. So why the change now? 

The marketing says that bikes need to be more "capable" for todays riding, but that isn't true for me. I'm still riding the same trails I always have and the race courses aren't so challenging that I've ever felt uncomfortable on a hardtail, even without a dropper post.

The truth is age has caught up with me. Gone is the confidence of youth when I used to plough over roots as fast as I dared. A bit of my brain now wants a slightly larger margin of error, which I hope the suspension will provide. Riding with friends I can see I'm loosing ground when the trail gets choppy, and in races I'm unable to hold the wheel ahead when there are lots of roots to navigate.  

Also my worn out body needs the comfort. The long training rides preparing for and then riding the South Downs Double ruined my back. I've never had problems in this area before, but this year has seen months when I've been unable to sit down comfortably in a chair.

So here she is my new Epic Evo.

I've gone on a slightly different path with the set-up. By using the frame with a 100mm Rock Shox SL fork, I've basically ended up with a standard XC race Epic but without the Brain. That's an intentional decision. Remembering back when I did have suspension, I wasn't a fan of the Specialized Brain's automatic lock-out. I liked a suspension bike to feel like it had suspension! Undoubtedly the boffins at Specialized have developed the technology since then, but I also didn't want the hassle and the complexity. 

By fitting a 100mm fork, the head angle drops back a degree to the same 67.5 degrees as the race day Epic. It also drops the bottom bracket height to a few millimeters above the regular bike despite having 10mm more travel.

So how does it ride? After two rides I love it! Riding along is so smooth it is like cheating. I admit it felt so different to start with that I actually stopped after 100 meters to check everything was tightened up! But after tuning the pressure there is almost no bob from the suspension when pedalling, but it smooths out the trail beautifully. Coming from years on a hardtail I do feel a bit disconnected from the ground. So I haven't really pushed my boundaries with the bike yet. The most noticeable benefit so far is taking a step up on a climb over a root or rock. There is much more traction as the rear wheel hugs the ground, plus there is the chance to stay seated.

The slacker head angle is what has actually taken the most getting used to. At the first slow speed tight turn through a gate onto the local disused airfield, it felt like I was steering one of those bendy buses you get at the airport. Slow and ponderous. Then when I reached some faster single track I was constantly turning in too late for all the corners.

So some practice and more time in the saddle is needed, but the bike fit itself is perfect. It's taken me a while to get comfortable on new bikes previously, but I just slipped onto this bike like a silk glove. At 5ft 10" I'm exactly on the cusp between a Medium and Large according to the Specialized website. I've got a pretty average 32" inside leg measurement for somebody my height and there is absolutely no way I needed a large. I've fitted a 70mm stem to match how the XC Epic range is supplied from Spesh and feel like I'm sitting perfectly 'in' the bike, not perched on top, or too stretched out.

The weight? 9.8kg or 21.6lbs. 

Let me get some more miles under my belt and I'll report back again.

Farewell old friend

I love my Stumpjumper Hard Tail. Even after 12 years, if I'm riding on my own she is still the bike I'll choose. I've tried to replace her twice, but she's out lasted both replacements. She's the bike which is guaranteed to put a smile on my face every time I ride her.

She's not the best bike I've owned, or the one on which I've had my best results, or completed my most epic ride. But we have spent more time together than any of my other two wheeled companions. From day one she fitted like a glove; light, fast and nimble she has been my perfect two wheeled partner.

Only the frame and the the front wheel remain of the original build from 2011. Back then parts for 29ers were hard to come by, in a world still dominated by what now seem like the comically small wheels we'd all been happily riding since the 1980's. At her first race I only saw one other 29er at the entire event. Imagine the ridicule of turning up on a 26er 'kids bike' at a race now a days! 

She had a special start. In 2010 I arranged a trip to New York for my wife and I just to pick her up. Specialized had decided that 29ers were too forward thinking for us Luddites in the UK.

She instantly transformed my race results. It wasn't just because of the advantage that the larger wheels gave me, also psychologically it was the first time I'd had a top end bike and I really felt like I had a secret weapon as I towered over the opposition and their tiny wheels on the start line.

                                                    An early race outing at the Gorrick 100 in 2011.

After a few years as my race bike, she became my training bike, clocking up more miles than any other MTB I've owned. There was a stint as a commuter, which is when she got the rigid fork and that is how I like her best. The ride is so pure. Lean on the pedals and she leaps forward in response, urging me on, the ride quality actually pretty forgiving in the rough stuff. The excellently hidden external cable routing means maintenance is so much easier than her modern counterparts. Every time I'm trying to thread a cable or brake hose around the inside of a bottom bracket shell I wonder why all bikes aren't still like her.

Sadly though it is time for her to finally be retired. We've had the best time together and who's to say I won't build her up again, but right now the supply of hand-me-down components that fit her skinny non-boost, open drop out rear end and worn out press-fit bottom bracket shell are drying up. Bye Stumpy, it's been a blast!

South Downs Way Double

Back in the Summer of 2019, long before the world had even heard of something called Covid, I had a crack at the South Downs Way Double. The challenge is to ride the length of the South Downs Way, there and back,  in 24hrs. That's 200 miles off-road with 22,000ft of climbing. On that June day in 2019 I was defeated by the weather, when unforecast rain pushed in. I'd been riding for 15 hours and was heading into the night, so another 9 hours without any suitable clothing would have been foolish. The "Double" had been playing on my mind ever since.

2022 was the chance to get this monkey off my back. I picked a weekend around the summer equinox in June to maximise the daylight, I loaded my bike and hit the National trail as the sun was setting. 17 hours later battling rain and 40mph winds I was forced to bail again. 

Now a full blown obsession, there was going to be a 3rd attempt and I wasn't going to wait another 3 years!

I had taken some lessons from my previous experiences. The most important obviously was to watch the weather forecast, but also I am not as fit now as I had been in 2019. Completing the ride in 24hrs was going to be a serious challenge. I'd be racing the clock the entire way.

As before I started at Cocking, the nearest point on the South Downs Way to where I live in Chichester. Having tried different start times I decided I preferred to get a good nights sleep and ride out early in the morning. So at 6am, with the rising sun in my face, I set off East across the chalky ridge of hills called the South Downs. Why East? Two reasons. This is definitely the tougher part of the ride, with big climbs from almost sea level as you approach Eastbourne. Best therefore to get it done with fresher legs. Also, if all went to plan, I'd get back to Cocking at Sunset splitting the ride nicely into daylight and night sections, with a chance to re-kit myself at the car.

I'd chosen this Sunday as the forecast was for the recent bone dry weather to continue for days to come. There was actually a warning for high temperatures, but up on the grassy ridge line there was a comforting onshore breeze. Being a weekend I passed a lot of walkers, but at least this meant I got some help with a few of the many gates. The day progressed well, and I made it to Eastbourne in about the 8 hours I needed to keep my attempt on schedule. On the way I munched on bananas, fig rolls and peanut Clif Bars, but as I've also learnt my tastes change during the ride; from sweet to savoury. So in the afternoon I began to add slices of pizza to my diet as well as a packet of Hula Hoops! I don't know how many bottles of water I drank but it must be dozens. Given the heat warning I took two bottles. I could probably have got away with one, refilling at the regular taps, but if one tap had been out of order I would have struggled as each time I rolled up with two empty bidons on the bike.

I knew it was likely I'd get a puncture given the flinty nature of the ground. Weirdly I'd just been thinking about it as I heard the psst, psst, psst. I was close to Chanctonbury ring on the way back towards Cocking. Luckily a quick Dart sealed the hole and I probably lost only a minute or two before I was back on my way. 

I'd had a headwind in the morning, but now heading West, with the wind on my back I felt a million dollars. I was now gaining time on schedule and feeling positive although obviously after 14 hours I was beginning to feel tired. Which is probably why I ended up on my face in the dust! It is funny how your mind has time to think "I don't want my attempt to end like this" as I flew through the air. I had been looking ahead as I approached what felt like the millionth gate. The front wheel got caught in a rut and I was thrown to the ground, in a dusty heap at the top of Amberley Mount. 

I'd been racing the clock, so instinctively leapt back on and rolled down to the gate. Reaching for the brake, I found the lever was broken and it had also left a nice mark on my top tube where it had swung round. After a minute with the allen keys getting everything at least usable again and I rode down the almost vertical face of the hill to the road. I'd been cracking on and hadn't messaged anybody with my progress since Eastbourne so reached for my phone. It wasn't in my pocket!

What did I do now? My first thought was to leave it and crack on, but my family were using the Life360 app to monitor my progress. If I just left it, they'd think I'd died on the hillside and send out a search partly. Also as I started to think more rationally - it is my phone and all the things that go with it in a modern world. It seemed likely it had slipped out of my pocket during the fall, but that was right back at the very top of Amberley Mount! Of all the hills I wouldn't want to ride twice! I pedalled to the bottom of the steepest section and then ran/jogged/staggered up to the gate. I couldn't remember exactly where I had fallen, but luckily a bright orange gel wrapper marked the spot, and next to it there was my phone.

Crisis averted, but I'd lost over 20 minutes before I was back down at the road where I had first noticed my empty pocket. Full of frustration and anger I pushed on up the next few climbs past Bignor and was soon on familiar trails and descending back down to the car.

About 16 hours had passed and the sun had set, but the sky was still light enough for me to see what I was doing as I fitted my lights, restocked my bags and changed into fresh, warmer kit in preparation for the final night leg. I knew that if I rode it at the same speed as I had during my previous attempt I'd just squeak inside 24 hours, but previously I'd ridden the night leg first, I now had 120 miles in the legs and would certainly be slower. Wouldn't I?

I was still feeling good as I set off and feeling motivated. It wasn't until I reached the base of the grassy climb at Butser that I felt the first weakness hit me. From fairly close to the bottom I got off and walked. I was startled by the silhouette of two ladies with a telescope as I staggered to the top. Their outline was illuminated by a flash of lightning. Then came a roll of thunder and I felt the first large drops of summer rain on my back. It seemed all my attempts were cursed by bad luck with weather. A quick check of my phone said 0% chance of rain, so I hoped it was just an isolated shower and pushed on into the dark.

As I reached East Meon lightning kept illuminating the dark shapes of the hillside around me and the thunder grew menacingly loud. At the base of the climb I sheltered under a tree cursing my luck as it began to rain properly. How could I be this unlucky? Surely it is possible to get 24 hours in the UK without it raining? I had a choice but staying under the tree wasn't one of them and it was costing me time, so I got back in the saddle and rode on. The consistent drip, drip continued all the way to Winchester. Luckily the ground was so dry that it made little difference to the track beneath my wheels. 

It wasn't until I reached the streets of the city that the heavens really opened, the rain beating on the tarmac and running down the sides of the road in torrents. I was soaked, but now only the homeward leg remained.

It wasn't cold at 16 degrees, but the night air had a chill and in my wet clothes I started to shiver. With chattering teeth, doubts began to enter my mind. Even if I did stop though, who'd I call at 3am and it would be at least an hour until they could get me. Having come this far, my best option was to rescue myself by getting back to the car. I tried to warm myself up by putting what little effort I had left into the climbs, but my body temperature would plummet again on the way back down the other side.

The gates were the worst part. Having to stop, unclip and unfold my tired body to walk through, close the latch them and then remount. Arrgh! I kept thinking to myself I should have left them all open on the way out, as I'm sure nobody had gone through them since I had earlier in the night!

Eventually I forgot about the cold. I think this was largely physiological, because I started to realise I was going to make it! The sky lightened and the sun was in the sky as I hit the final major uphill section. I was riding familiar trails again and knew I would be back by 6am even if I had to walk it, but I didn't! I'll admit I was struggling to stay awake for those last few miles. The head was nodding, as I suddenly came round with a jolt. Luckily I stayed on the bike and was fully focused for the final plunge down to the car, stopping the clock at 23hrs 30min 25sec. I'd done it!

 

Torq In Your Sleep 2022

I've missed a couple of xc races because my focus has been on training for longer rides. Part of that was geared around entry in the 6 hour solo category at Torq In Your Sleep. 

The last few months preparation had all gone to plan including a 5 hour ride along the South Downs Way a couple of weeks ago. Then the Sunday before the event I had been riding with other members of the Strada Wheels team when Clint took what looked like a fairly innocuous fall, except for the rocks near where he landed. Initially he carried on, but we should have guessed he was putting on a brave face when he decided to skip the coffee stop and head home. Next day we all received a scary photo from Clint of an extremely swollen hand. This meant that he was out of the race on Sunday and the 4 man team was now a rider short. Guess who got the call?

So here I was on Tuesday morning and all that prep for a continuous 6 hour ride was thrown out. I was now looking at four or five 40 minute flat out sprints over a 12 hour race between Midday and Midnight. It was too late to starting tuning the fast twitch muscles, although the endurance training wouldn't be entirely wasted come the end of race day. What did change was the nutrition I'd need to take with me. There was now the need for decent recovery meals for between laps, instead of food I could eat on the go. I also required changes of clothes for the time between racing and lights for the laps after sunset.

The weather on Saturday couldn't have been better. Warm spring sunshine in a clear breezeless sky. I was struck with mild panic on the drive up as I realised I had left the meals I made the day before in the fridge at home!  Once I'd calmed down, a short detour to M&S in Camberley resulted in a definite meal time upgrade!

When I arrived at the venue Darren and John already had the pop-up tent ready, close behind the flags and trade stands of the main arena. I unloaded my boxes of tools, clothing and food before Steve joined us and we set out on a reconnaissance lap of the course. The only time we'd get chance to ride together.

We then returned to the tent to plan the day, including the rider order. As the fastest rider Steve would go first. The idea being that he would be able to get us clear of the pack and prevent us being held up in traffic. I would be heading off 3rd, so we estimated my first lap would be around 1.20pm. We cheered Steve and the massive capacity field of riders away at Midday and then it was time for my lunch!

We headed back to the tent, nerves almost audibly jangling as the 3 of us nervously sat waiting for our races to get underway. Daz was up next and he headed down to the pen early as we didn't really know what lap times to expect. Steve however had done the job we'd hoped and was around the 5 or 6th rider to come into sight. As he ripped the convenient, stretchy team bracelet off his wrist to pass it over to Darren, it split and Daz was left with a dangling rubber worm to try and tuck away in a jersey pocket, before he powered away on the opening loop around the campsite.

I was out next. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as I sat in the camp chair watching the clock. 20 minutes to go I put on my kit, checked the bike for the millionth time, packed and repacked the spares in my back pocket then went back to the chair, feet dancing nervously up and down as I sat watching an empty course!  Steve's lap had taken 35 minutes, we assumed the rest of us would be a few minutes slower.

10 minutes to go I finally got on the bike and went through my warm-up routine. Then with 5 minutes left I went back to the arena and entered the pen with half a dozen other riders all wide eyed and buzzing waiting for their own laps to start. One by one racers arrived, frantically handed over their wrist bands and their team mate dashed away. Then I could see Daz entering the field. I shouted so he would know where to stop, he passed me the broken band and I was off.

I was full to the eyeballs with adrenalin and I'm certain I started much too fast! I tore over the roots and through the woods like I was being chased by the devil! On any fireroad sections I put my head down and drained the battery before ducking back into the twists and turns beneath the trees. The course was rough and I was on my hard tail, undoubtedly not the fastest option on such a course. There were no really significant long uphill drags, just some short out of the saddle bursts required to clear some steeper gradients. The course was bone dry and dusty. So the corners were loose and sketchy, riders having to control their speed, searching for the grip available. There were 8 mile markers and for safety each section was named with a large picture board. 'Double Dip', Sunset Wood' and 'Bridge to Knowhere' just to name a few!

39 minutes after I started I handed over to Jon and went for a short cool down spin and stretch before collapsing in the tent. I felt so much better now my race was underway!

The afternoon passed uneventfully. I lay in the grass as the sun shone down. Now we had a good idea of lap times we drew up a chart of when we each next needed to be in the pen and the cycle of recovery, warm-up and racing began. Once we'd all done a lap we checked the live leader board in the event marquee. We were 3rd with a few minutes gap in front and behind. Darren was frustrated that he'd gone the wrong way briefly on his first lap and to compound his dark mood a dog then pissed on his leg as he was standing looking at the timing screen!

My second lap was one of huge frustration. Darren handed over to me just after the entire 6 hour field had just completed their first lap. Therefore I quickly came upon long snakes of slower riders picking their way cautiously over technical obstacles on the course. I felt I had time to stop and do a crossword as I crawled along, trying to pick them off one by one. When I reached any wider sections I shouted out "Rider coming through" and sprinted past as many as I could, but that only got me up to the back of the next queue. It felt like I was hemorrhaging time. Aarrgh!

The sun was still warm in the sky as evening approached and the laps ticked by. My 3rd lap was joyous in comparison to the previous one. The few riders I caught let me straight past, and all those tyres had pushed the loose dust and stone off the racing line so you could be much more confident taking speed into the corners. On a high, I practically skipped up to the tent after my lap and when I got there my colleagues were also beaming because we'd moved up to 2nd place. All we knew at that point was that the leaders had fallen back, but were now 6 minutes behind us and chasing hard.

My 4th and potentially last lap was due to start just after 9pm. There was still some light in the sky as Darren handed over to me, but as soon as I got in amongst the trees it was pitch black. I knew the course by now, but it looked very different riding with a bar light and head torch. Some of the roots cast long shadows looking larger than they were and other obstacles seemed invisible until you were right upon them. I didn't know how to pace myself, all I knew was I was going slower. It was downright scary as times and as fast as I could go, but I worried I was losing time and the other team might make up all those minutes during my lap. So it was almost music to my years when I found I had lost only 30 seconds on that lap. 

The gap yo-yo'd as different riders in each team completed their laps. However, the chasing team were generally faster, but we learnt that they had lost a rider due to an accident that had cost them the lead, so we hoped they would start tiring. Looking at the hours remaining Steve and Darren would both have to do a 5th lap, but Darren was spent and on the verge of cramp. We had a team meeting to consider who would do the extra lap. The others talked about us letting 2nd place go to the chasers because we'd still be safe on the podium in 3rd even if we didn't send out a final rider. I wasn't having that! 

So it was that as 11pm approached I sat huddled in the tent trying to stay warm in the chill night air. Steve had gone out for his 5th and final lap to try and build me as big a time cushion as he could. The last time check back to the chasers was nearly 6 minutes, so I hoped he could stretch that out by another minute or hopefully more. I would be up against their fastest rider. In the (hopefully) very unlikely event that he did his fastest lap of the day that would mean I'd have 42 minutes to complete my lap. My last lap time in the dark had been 43 minutes, but surely I'd be slower, fatigue was setting in.

No warm-up this time. I started to strip off with just 5 minutes to go until we expected Steve in. We knew there was a chance that after their challenging day, if they saw me go out and if the gap was big enough the other team might not send out the final rider, settling for the consolation of the 3rd step of the podium. Therefore I took my phone with me, if it rang I would know they had called off the chase. Still, It would be several minutes until I knew, so I had to set off like my life depended on it! 

The legs were heavy, but all that endurance training paid off as I pushed the pace for the first 4 miles. I could see light through the trees behind and worried it was my chaser and he was going to reel me in before the end of the lap. Then my phone buzzed!

I couldn't trust it wasn't just a coincidence. Perhaps it was just my Dad ringing to see how the race had gone. So I dug around and fished the phone out of my pocket just as it rang again. This time I answered and it was Steve. He told me we had it in the bag and just to head back. Euphoria! However, it was dark and I was in a strange wood, with no idea of the way back unless I followed the course. So it was that ten minutes before midnight I crossed the line to cheers and the announcement of "Strada Wheels finish 2nd in the Veteran Team category". Time for a fist pump and a shout to the stars! Despite relaxing after the call I obviously had happy legs and my final lap time would have been quick enough even if they had chased. What a great day it had been!

Gorrick Spring Classic Round 1 – Racing is back!

It took a long time to feel like I was getting over the effects of Covid, which I caught 3 months ago at the end of November. I missed the entire winter race season feeling weak and unable to push hard on the pedals for sustained efforts. Recovery was slow, and included some humbling social rides, where the group had to repeatedly wait for me or change the planned route to cut the ride short.

As we came into February the new race season was imminent, but I still felt slow. I was barely averaging 15mph during solo training road rides. This was on familiar routes where I’d normally expect to be doing 18mph or closer to 20mph with a bit of effort. That was the trouble my body wasn’t able to put in that extra “bit of effort”!

Nevertheless, I entered the first Gorrick Spring Classic. My expectation in terms of the result was low, but I felt I needed to get back in the saddle if I was to call myself a racer. There was the added motivation of new team kit from Strada Handbuilt Wheels.

Rows of cars glinted in the dappled sunlight coming through the trees as I rolled into the carpark at Highlands farm near Deepcut. Post pandemic the race numbers seem to be on the rise which is fantastic to see.

There was an amusing moment on the start line when nobody took up an empty slot on the front row! From the security of row two I had a good get away as we plunged down a wide fireroad and then up into the woods and the beginning of the serpentine singletrack. I tried to count those ahead to gauge my position and guessed I was about 7^th or 8^th.

The pace was hot as we swept up and down, swinging left and right kicking up the dry loamy soil. Since I got my new wheels I’ve been experimenting with ever lower and lower tyre pressures. On my pump at least, at this event I was running 10psi in the front and 15psi in the back. On the road it feels terrible, like two flat tyres, but once on the loose soil and tangle of roots that make up a traditional Gorrick XC course it all comes together.  I ride a hardtail and the low pressure at the back increases traction and the comfort, while up front the soft tyre allows me to hunt out grip in the corners. The new wide 30mm rims stop the tyre from deforming and squirming, although there were a few scary bangs and nervous moments when one of the shiny new carbon rims struck a root. Thankfully, the 2.35in Fast Trak tyres held pressure without ‘burping’ their contents.

I was keen to stay in the top ten and fought hard to hold my place in the group and make sure none of the riders in the long line behind snuck past. Then as the first lap wound on, despite the pace I felt I could go faster. It was hard to find somewhere to pass so I had to just stay as close as possible to the rider in front and wait for a moment to pounce. My strength is the climbs so this is where I took my opportunity to pass one and then a second rider.

Behind me two other riders followed me past and we crossed the line to complete the first of the three laps in a tight nose to tail battle. As I mentioned there weren’t many passing places so it was key to defend these critical areas. Charging hard out of the corner before any wider section of the trail and defending the inside line as we turned in again.

This is how I rode the entire second lap trying to recover on the tighter sections where passing was impossible. We caught and passed some other riders, but those behind stayed glued to my wheel as the three of us crossed the line again. Despite my strength on the climbs this was actually where the rider directly behind was able to apply the most pressure, which made them especially painful!

Twice we caught unobservant riders who I presume were practicing the course before their event in the afternoon. On both occasions as they came into sight ahead, the rider was off their bike negotiating a tricky technical section on foot. Despite my loud shout of, “Riders!” they then decided to remount their bike instead of simply stepping to the side. In both cases I had no choice but to come to a complete halt right in the middle of the tough section of trail they had just struggled to navigate. The first time it was nerve-racking because I worried the riders behind would use the opportunity to find a way by. The second time I was exceptionally frustrated. I’d just put in a really big effort to try and open a gap on those shadowing me from behind, who immediately closed straight back up. I was a beginner once, but I feel have always gone out of my way to prevent holding up faster racing riders. There is nothing worse than fighting hard to win a small gap on your pursuers only to have to give it all away because of somebody elses lack of observation. I guess that it is all part of racing.

As the last lap began I made a final concerted effort to break away; digging deep, my legs screaming I was fighting off the burning of stitch in my chest. It is an indication of how close the racing had been for the previous two laps, that I considered a couple of bike lengths a success! It did at least allow me to focus more on speed in the corners rather than having to take a defensive line.

I finished 4^th a healthy 8 seconds ahead of the chasers who then came over to congratulate me and share tails of our race long battle!

I was immensely proud with the result. I don’t feel frustrated to miss the podium, 3^rd place was over a minute up the trail. After the last few months, to race competitively at the front end of the field was hugely satisfying.