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.