Red Kite Devil's Challenge 130km: It's wonderful out there

Star date: 8 June 2014
Location: Cambrian Mountains
Event: Red Kite Devil's Challenge 130km
Weapon of choice: Victim of diabolical warranty service
Weapon of necessity: Rigid 26" singlespeed
Greatest strength: Climbing and descending well
Greatest weakness: Quiche?
Result: First back FWIW

The idea was to do something a bit mental, a bit extreme. A stress-busting factory reset to counter the pressures of work and my offspring's occasional lapses in realising their angelic potential. So why not ride further than you've ever ridden before, in a very hilly place, at race pace, in bad weather, without gears or suspension?

It didn't turn out quite like that.

With even mountain biking now having to bow to health & safety extremism, typically overblown weather warnings (Britain to be blitzed by worst hailstorms since 1843, warned the Daily Bollox) led to the route being cut to a trifling 70 miles and four Snowdons of climbing.

Clashes with other events also meant a very disappointing turnout, so I had nobody at my level to race against, and in the end it was sunny all day, dammit.

The only part of the original plan not to fall through was riding what most would consider an inappropriate bike. Discuss.

I manage to out-camp Drovers’ Rest owner and feed station supply supremo Peter James OBE.

Photo: Carol Corbett at CAC Photography.

With the pressure off and the sun out, I ended up taking it (relatively) easy and discovering a whole new facet of mountain biking. Without the usual head-down-arse-up sweat-in-the-eyes lactic-in-the-legs verge-of-collapse joys of a race, the high-octane heart-in-mouth non-stop thrills-and-spills rollercoaster of the trail centre, or even the nagging where-the-****-am-I the-weather's-closing-in semi-panic of a solo upland exploration, the whole thing was altogether more laid back, with the emphasis on just enjoying being out there. Right out in the middle of nowhere.

Now even in pootle mode I'm not really your stop-to-take-a-photo kinda guy, so you'll have to use your imagination or Google your own pics. But what a stunningly beautiful place Wales can be! Epic may be an overused word these days, but it's the one that keeps springing to mind. Thing is, I live here, I see this landscape every day, and it still took my breath away at times. I can't imagine what city-dwellers must make of it. But I can see why so many travel so far to ride here.

Same place, different event, for an idea of the sheer epicness of the ride. That's me in my enduro clobber by the way, taking a full-bouncer from the lovely people at Bionicon on a recce run at the first round of the Red Kite Events/Empire Cycles Enduro (see my report here). Next round is on 26/27 July. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Photo: Carol Corbett at CAC Photography.

It was like stepping into a tourist information film, with the course managing to cram in pretty much everything mid-Wales has to offer:

• Britain's smallest town? Check.
• Magnificent views throughout? Check.
• Moorland wilderness? Check.
• Burbling brooks and rocky rivers? Check.
• Aryan ranks of telegraph pole monoculture? Check.
• Proper bluebell-infested broadleaf woodland? Check.
• Post-apocalyptic clearfell? Check.
• Crystal-clear reservoir? Check.
• Empty roads? Check.
• Languidly soaring red kites? Check.
• Lots of sheep? Duh!

All interspersed, of course, with some thrilling descents. It's hard to pick favourites, but those that stand out in my mind were an exhilarating and scary-in-places Dyfi-style bedrock cracker in the Irfon Forest, the always-entertaining rough 'n' ready black descent at Coed Trallwm, a superquick dry grassy moorland blast dodging woolly bullets above Llyn Brianne, and a PB on the familiar rooty (but not so muddy for once) multiple lines dropping down onto the road in the Crychan Forest.

But these had to be earned. Boy, did they have to be earned. There was an awful lot of climbing. With descents in this part of the world tending to be steepish plummets rather than sinuous singletrack, I guess it's the price you have to pay. Rarely have I been so grateful for long flattish linking sections where you could just about catch your breath.

Start of the big fireroad climb over to Llyn Brianne reservoir.

Photo: Carol Corbett at CAC Photography.

Fortunately most of the climbs offered plenty to occupy your mind (mud, ruts, rocks, steps, views, often all at the same time). In the middle, though, were two monster fireroad slogs out of Abergwesyn that were a real test of character. The second had so many false summits that I came very close to quitting and settling for the short route! The first was probably just as hard, but followed a lengthy pit stop and was broken up nicely by snapper Carol Corbett from CAC Photography a little way up and then, near the top, a serious Springwatch moment as I rounded a corner to find four tiny fox cubs playing on the track in the sun. Even younger and less foxy than in the photo below, they were half puppy half teddy, and my daughter would've wanted to take them home and keep them (probably with the teenage hens she found in the woods a fortnight ago). Having been a part-time Good Life wannabe until the cycling bug bit me, I've lost a fair few chickens and ducks to Mr Fox over the years, so I'm not his biggest fan, but I have to say those babies were just sooo cute...

If anything, mine were even cuter.

Cracking photo by John Morris.

And it was still cooing like a teenage girl that I then contrived to take my only wrong turning of the day. I blame the organiser. I mean, fancy attaching a straight-on arrow to a big tree?! Did he not consider that it might subsequently get blown over so the arrow ended up pointing right?! Seriously, though, the waymarking was very good. It must be hard work marking out a 70 mile offroad course - but not as hard as riding it...

Luckily the second half of the course was easier than the first. Once you get up there, the Crychan Forest is a case of less pain, more gain. The climbs are shorter yet the descents feel longer, and the whole experience is a little more playful, ideal for those with a short attention span - or tired legs. The loop was largely a dry run of the somewhat moister Little Devil event back in April (see my report here), only with the killer hill moved from the beginning to the end and leading onto a great last singletrack descent down into the remotest of valleys for a lingering final taste of the wilds just a mile or so from town.

All in all, it was the usual well-organised, laid-back, no-frills, grass-roots affair we've come to expect from Red Kite Events. A cracking course in a wonderful part of the world.

Freshly refuelled on quiche and boiled potatoes washed down with a selection of great cakes. (It was lunchtime, I was hungry.)

Photo: Carol Corbett at CAC Photography.

And how did I fare on the inappropriate bike? Well, with no suspension I had to go a little more gently on some descents to avoid the road-drill effect, and with no gears I probably hurt a little more on the very steepest climbs, but it weighs 10lb less than your average loadsagears full-suspension trail bike (and after training on it so do I!) so the rest of the ride will have been a great deal easier. There's no doubt in my mind which one I'd rather take up (and down) four Snowdons. #righttoolforthejob

Update: You can ride a similar monster MTB loop on 9 August as part of a whole weekend of mountain biking shenanigans in Llanwrtyd Wells under the umbrella of the World Alternative Games, also home to bog snorkelling and other assorted nuttiness.

Red Kite Little Devil 65km: Mostly, but not entirely, soaking wet

Star date: 6 April 2014
Location: Llanwrtyd Wells
Event: Red Kite Little Devil
Weapon of choice: Carbon hardtail 29er

Greatest strength: Kept on going
Greatest weakness: Legs
Result: 4th (or last, depending on how you look at it)

I have something to declare. Yes, I've sold out and become a corporate whore. Sadly I haven't (yet) been signed up as the new face of Calvin Klein or taken delivery of a lifetime's supply of Carlsberg and a free Lamborghini for the school run, but I have been given some free stuff in return for writing about it here in my world-famous blog.

I'm aware there is an ethical issue here. However, free stuff is free stuff, and free stuff is cool, so sod the journalistic/artistic integrity, gratuitous product placement here we come. Or maybe not. Oh, make up your own minds.

Anyway, one freebie was a selection of gloves and socks from SealSkinz, purveyors of the finest waterproof cycling accessories. Sounds perfect, given the winter we've just had. Only the parcel arrived during an unusually balmy spell in March. "Shame they didn't come earlier in the year before spring arrived," I said.

Fate was listening. Fate was tempted. Fate also clearly has something in for Red Kite Events. Just what did Neil Delafield do in a former life to make the weather gods so angry? Every MTB event he's run this year has been a wash-out.

Yes, two days before the Red Kite Events Little Devil (free entry if you blog, Chris, no strings, just tell it how it is), spring buggered off back to the Mediterranean (how did we ever cope without spellcheckers?) and Wales became, well, more Welsh. It chucked it down until every single bloody dried-out puddle had been refilled and most of the trails had turned into streams, and then it rained or drizzled throughout the event itself.

Perfect opportunity, then, to try out some quality SealSkinz products!

Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words.

Photo: Carol Corbett at CAC Photography.

Neil Delafield is lucky they came up with Care in the Community, because there was a very respectable turnout of utter nutters despite the monsoon conditions - including three riders I had down as being at a similar level to me. The four of us pulled clear right from the start, and it was shaping up to be a great battle.

Before heading south to the Crychan Forest on a variation on the Frozen Devil course ridden in not dissimilar conditions back in January (see here), we were sent on a detour north into the Irfon Forest up the Climb from Hell. Eventual 1-2-3 Jon Roberts, Gareth Jones and Carwyn Davies, along with little old me, went piling up it at speed: I guess we all fancy ourselves as strong climbers. However, I felt awful. As tarmac gave way to farm track and then bedrock and ever looser stone, getting steeper all the time, I struggled to hang on to the others, and as we headed down again I lost them completely.

To be dropped so early - and on a climb - hurt. A lot. We're talking three very strong riders, but I'd beaten all of them at some point in the previous six months, so I thought we'd be more evenly matched. Was I just kidding myself? I was still recovering from losing my duathlon virginity the previous weekend, but even so. Or perhaps they were just flying - after all, the four of us beat the event photographer to the descent down the other side...

And what a fantastic descent it was. Slippery bedrock, loose corners, a totally committing steep drop - and that's just in the dry. In the wet it was a real handful, and I was delighted to make it down in one piece. Fabulous, darlings. And the good news for thrill-seekers is that it'll be back, with luck in drier conditions, as part of the sure-to-be-splendid and certainly competitively priced Red Kite Events gravity enduro on 26/27 April.

It was then a long slog over to the Crychan via a fair chunk of road, a lot of water and two big offroad climbs. It was worth it, though, for the next descent alone, a rooty cracker with a tricky drop onto the road at the end (not unlike the one Catrin demonstrated in my previous blog). I made a right hash of this descent, my balance was all wrong, my line choice terrible, my eyes struggling to see - yet Strava tells me I did it quicker than ever before. Strava also tells me I climbed up to the Crychan in exactly the same time as in the Frozen Devil, and that I got a PB on the next big descent. So while I felt like I had all the coordination and strength of a newborn foal, the data suggest I was pretty much on normal form. Looks like it was all in the mind, and my mind can be a pretty scary place.

Said next descent is one of my favourites, part steep rocky enduro trail and part rooty woodland singletrack. Again, though, I was all over the place, and right at the bottom I contrived to topple over for no apparent reason, a hitherto uncharted soft part of my knee landing right on something pointy. It hurt a lot. It still hurts two weeks on. Suffice to say this did not help my positivity.

Doggy style after too much energy drink?

Photo: Carol Corbett at CAC Photography.

At that point I kind of went into a trance. I was wet, alone and feeling sorry for myself, and my heart really wasn't in it. But for some reason I carried on. For the two hours between the two feed stations (nice welshcakes btw), I didn't see a single soul. Perhaps loneliness is the lot of the racer, even when there are others around you. While there is a clear sense of community among racers, we're also competing, and like Top Gear we'll always leave a man behind. Sometimes I wish I were more normal, riding with a group, taking it easy up the climbs, stopping for a snack and a chat before piling down the next descent, then regrouping for more of the same. In truly horrid conditions, it really is much the better way. And - apart from the weather - that is exactly what I hope to find at the sure-to-be-splendid and certainly competitively priced Red Kite Events gravity enduro on 26/27 April.

The rest of the course is a bit of a blur to be honest, some familiar sections, some unfamiliar sections, up then down, up then down. Nothing of note occurred until the very end when my front wheel suddenly plunged into a boggy hole and sent me over the bars face down into some suspicious-tasting mud. Oddly, this lifted my mood somewhat.

So how did the SealSkinz quality products perform? Did my hands and feet stay nice and dry? (The rest of me certainly didn't - nor did my bike's internals, with the bearings in both hubs and bottom bracket ending up full of muddy water). At this point, I'll just say that the gloves were amazing but the socks were overwhelmed by the conditions. I plan to do some more testing and will report back in due course. Betcha can't wait.

And what about the course? Well, it was always going to be tough, and the conditions made it brutal. There were three nasty climbs and two big descents in the first 10 miles, which was pretty intense. The course yoyoed more kindly after that, and thankfully the final 10 miles were again relatively easy, with a lot of fireroad. Everything was rideable despite the rain, and the descents were a real test of concentration and nerve but still a blast. I love the Crychan. Red Kite Events head honcho Neil Delafield wants to be known for tough events - and on this evidence I'd say he was getting it right.

It wasn't the course or even the weather that stopped me from enjoying myself. It was more a lack of mental strength that was my downfall.

The next Red Kite Events event is the sure-to-be-splendid and certainly competitively priced Red Kite Events gravity enduro on 26/27 April. A gravity enduro is essentially a pootle round the forest with a handful of timed fast-as-you-dare descents. This format definitely doesn't play to my strengths, but it'll be fun to try - it could be just the tonic I need.