Red Kite Winter XC Series Round 4: Getting there

Star date: 12 January 2014
Location: Coed Trallwm, Mid Wales
Event: Red Kite Winter XC Series Round 4
Weapon of choice: Carbon hardtail 29er
Greatest strength: Determination
Greatest weakness: Route planning
Result: 2nd overall, 1st vet

Scrabbling to find the traction and momentum needed to get up the hill, carefully picking the line with the most grip to get safely back down again, all the while looking for banks and ruts and depressions to help you round the corners when braking is no longer an option... The moment when challenging turns into frightening, when your brain fills with the consequences of going over the edge and says no way, but you can't stop... The sheer terror when you realise that you're no longer in control but relying entirely on luck... The elation when you make it, followed by that sinking feeling as another hill appears before you and the whole cycle starts over again... And your mind starts to play those familiar games: why am I here, why am I doing this, why didn't I stay in bed?

Well, that was just the drive over.

It must've been much colder overnight in the hills, and the shortcut across 12 miles of remote mountain road was not, in hindsight, the best choice. Water running off the saturated high ground had solidified into dual channels of ice down the straights and whole sheets of the stuff across the corners. By the time I clocked that this was only going to get worse, it was too late to turn around, as I'd never have made it back up the bits I'd just crept down. Well, I won't be making that mistake again - it was the scariest drive of my life.

After all that, the race was a doddle. Still high on adrenaline, I felt strong on the ups and comfortable on the downs. I knew I had a real battle on my hands, with elite rider James Nixon and endurance racer Jon Roberts in attendance, but I was in a "bring it on" kind of mood. I therefore decided to shadow James Nixon up the all-too-familiar first climb - only to watch an unknown rider breeze past us half-way up. We went with him, of course, and probably both paid for it later.

Unfortunately my chain popped off again on the first descent, which cost me a little time. Dismayed to spot the trademark green helmet of increasingly strong young enduro rider Peter Lloyd plummeting down the hill towards me, I let fly down the rest of the descent and along the flat section after the café, so I caught up with the leaders as they emerged from the second ford.

Event photos courtesy of Carol Corbett at CAC Photography

Instead of looping back round to the start as in earlier rounds, we crossed to the other side of the valley to do a variation on Coed Trallwm's red trail. This started, inevitably, with a big climb. The first super-slippery 50 yards (rideable in theory but easier to walk) and a couple of surfaced but steep banks (testing both thigh strength and traction skills) were followed by a long, rough, muddy fire-road drag to the top. Winding up a clear-felled hillside, this was much more enjoyable than the first climb, as both the views and the eroded surface gave you something to think about other than hurty legs. Stray off the established line and you even got a free musical accompaniment, part crunch, part tinkling, the shale having been lifted an inch off the ground by a billion sparkling ice needles.

I passed James Nixon near the top and launched myself down the recently resurfaced descent, which was smooth, straight and very, very fast. That is, apart from the Stealth Step™™ and the Dastardly Dogleg™™ round a tree stump, both of which come right out of the blue (at least with my eyesight), and two tight 180-degree turns, one bermed, one flat, more obvious but very loose, making it hard not to lose the back end of the bike. On subsequent laps I knew they were coming and went a bit slower; on the first lap I didn't, and I have no idea how I made it down in one piece. Several people punctured on the loose shale here, but today the force was with me. I suddenly found myself back on the tail of the Unknown Rider, but then made such a hash of the next section along a flattish, unsurfaced section through the woods back to the ford that I lost him again, forever. It wasn't hard, that bit, just a bit fiddly, but all I could see was mud and ruts and roots, so I was expecting to slip and slide around - and I did. The next two laps I made an active effort to look further ahead, keep pedalling and believe, and barring a wee wobble at the very end I made it through cleanly both times. It's amazing what you can ride when you think you can.

James Nixon caught me at the start of the second lap as I fumbled with an energy gel (that ol' two-pairs-of-gloves issue). Again I followed him up the first climb, and again I was able to pass and pull away towards the top. The chain stayed on this time, and I managed to hold my lead back down into the valley. I knew that if I could now push up the second climb I'd gain the psychological advantage of being out of sight, and then second place would almost certainly be mine if I could just keep going for the rest of the race. Well, I did, and it was. Really pleased with that. Once again the 90-minutes-plus-a-lap race format caught me out, and I held back a little on lap 3 to leave something in the tank for a non-existent lap 4, but I'd done enough.

I finished a couple of minutes up on James Nixon and five minutes behind the winner, who told me afterwards this was his first XC race (!) and he normally does "a bit of downhill, a bit of enduro". Slight understatement there - it turns out he was none other than World Cup downhiller Robert Williams! Well, that's one in the eye for prejudices about downhillers and climbing - he was up those hills like a mountain goat. OK, so he's half my age and a couple of stones lighter, but even so, R-E-S-P-E-C-T!

And talking of youth and respect, Huw Higgins-Worrall deserves a special mention for finishing eighth in the race at the age of just 12 - there's one to watch!

The weather hasn't been overly kind to the Red Kite series this year, and coming up with different but rideable courses each time has been a challenge. This one was the best of the series so far: it was good to get back into the woods onto some properly muddy stuff, I loved having a slightly more technical climb, and the views from the far side of the valley were stunning (fortunately not literally).

The next round on 2 February sees a change to a longer format: a choice between two and four hours racing on a variation on this same longer (9km) loop. This was decided very democratically with a show of hands at the start of the race; I do wonder how the vote would've gone at the end... Anyway, this spells a lot of bang for your bucks, which is especially good news for those travelling a long way (or a stupid way). Unless we suddenly have some unseasonably dry weather, I reckon four hours on this course will be more than enough for anyone. I wonder if I should take the singlespeed...


Oh, and for the record: Although I'm a certified lentilist, I much preferred the pumpkin soup at previous rounds.


Official times
(I did come second, honest; there's something wrong with James Nixon's second lap time because I was some way ahead of him by then and finished about two minutes ahead; Jon Roberts punctured)

Robert Williams	1:41:14	32:38	33:51	34:44
Chris Schroder	1:46:17	33:18	35:52	37:06
James Nixon	1:43:58	33:26	32:59	37:31
Peter Lloyd	1:53:31	34:21	38:41	40:28
???	1:54:50	35:47	38:11	40:51
Lewis Hawthorne	1:55:29	35:50	39:17	40:22
Jon Roberts	2:02:47	34:05	51:11	37:31
Huw Higgins Worrall	2:13:17	41:07	43:57	48:13
Jon Heissig	2:13:42	43:14	44:30	45:57
Steve HigginsWorrall	2:16:48	41:10	46:15	49:22

In case the Strava embed code isn't working again: Manual link

Red Kite Events Frozen Devil 50km challenge: Tasty

Star date: 5 January 2014
Location: Crychan Forest, Mid Wales
Event: Red Kite Events Frozen Devil 50km challenge
Weapon of choice: Unavailable
Weapon of necessity: Fully rigid 26" singlespeed
Greatest strength: Perseverance
Greatest weakness: Legs
Result: 5th overall, 1st vet, 1st singlespeed

I suppose the Frozen Devil was supposed to be something like this:

But lately the weather has been more like this:

And the forecast was for this:

So only about half those who entered actually turned up. Shame, because the weather held up much better than expected, even allowing this baby to make a slightly surreal appearance at event HQ:

That said, the weather wasn't exactly balmy - cold and damp with odd patches of drizzle, and the ground was absolutely saturated, making the ups sticky, the downs sketchy and the flats a sprayfest. Despite being shortened from 55km to 50km to avoid ice and fallen trees, the course felt like 80km.

After paying dearly for a lack of preparation last time out, I was ready for the worst:

• 1 waterproof jacket 
• 2 pairs of gloves
• 1 pair long waterproof shorts
• 1 pair leg warmers
• 2 pairs of socks (one waterproof)
• 1 pair of shoes waterproofed with duct tape

And I have to say I never got cold, although I did get very wet feet: the duct tape disappeared in minutes and, as usual, the Sealskinz socks were better at keeping water in than out. But it was the leggings that were the biggest issue. A brief audition for the Ministry of Silly Walks before I left proved that, as previously suspected, my winter tights were too tight over the knees and so slowing me down:

A quick rummage in the kit box threw up a pair of never-before-used leg warmers. And to be fair they were lovely and soft and flexy and warm. However, I wish they'd come with a garter belt. I must have stopped a dozen times around the course to hitch them up. I know my legs are skinny, but even so. Any suggestions from female readers (or male for that matter) for how to get hold-ups to hold up would be very welcome!

Still not confident the 29er was quite right, and not really wanting to get it dirty anyway, I also took a bike with absolutely none of these things to go wrong:

• Gears
• Rear suspension
• Front suspension
• Inner tubes
• Dropper post

 

Rigid singlespeed leads the way out of Llanwrtyd. How manly was I?
Event photos by Carol Corbett

I set off at a sedate pace along the opening road section, surprised to find no smooth-chested gear boys taking off ahead, but just as I was beginning to think that maybe nobody fast had turned up, a voice said hello and professional endurance racer Matt Page drew alongside. Bugger. What I did next probably wasn't the brightest of ideas. Yes, I bested Matt Page up the first climb. It wasn't deliberate (well, maybe just a bit). It was just a fun climb (Oxymorons R Us) up a rough track with a heady mixture of bedrock and ruts and mud and puddles and streaming water and sheep poo and thorns and steep bits, and I had to maintain a certain pace on the singlespeed just to keep going. Somehow I was also getting better traction despite still being on semi-slick summer tyres, and I got carried away.

Anyway, it proved a Pyrrhic victory (private education not entirely wasted) because it led onto a road descent where he and James Green, the eventual one-two, flew past. I caught them soon after as we headed up the big climb to the forest, but it got very steep at one point and I decided to hop off the bike and push a short section to conserve energy. I wish now that I'd thrown caution to the wind, because they then had 50 yards on me by the time we hit the trees and I never saw them again. I went on to struggle with every single climb after that anyway, and it would've been fun to at least try to shadow Matt down the first descent, which was a muddy, rooty, slippery, rutted cracker.

I fell off near the bottom anyway, when my rear wheel decided to overtake the front wheel, allowing two more riders to catch me. We traded places for a while through some more muddy, rooty, slippery, rutted stuff until we hit the big - make that BIG - climb up what is normally an exhilarating three-part descent. They rode most of it and I walked all of it; my legs had gone.

I suspect this was the moment I spotted the feed station.

The Crychan Forest is in many ways the best place in Wales to ride a mountain bike, because it is absolutely riddled with trails: disused fireroads, cheeky MTB singletrack, rocky MX enduro runs, enticing quarries, lumpy bridleways, even a Roman road with a free bath and mudpack every 50 yards - something around every corner and down every hill. Like the Dyfi Forest, only more compact. The sheer density of downhills that make you want to punch the air (though obviously you don't because then you'd crash and die) never ceases to amaze.

And if there's one thing Red Kite do well, it's putting together a loop that leaves you knackered but smiling. I've ridden extensively in the Crychan (have I mentioned before that I am a fully MBLA-qualified and very reasonably priced MTB guide?) but the course still took in a fair few sections that were new to me. One area I haven't previously explored is the eastern fringe of the forest, where the trails skirt the edge of the Eppynt military ranges, complete with warning signs about live ammunition. I didn't notice any of those fake Balkan villages reputed to nestle somewhere in the valley below, but there were plenty of oddly named farms around: No. 1, No. 2, No. 3, etc. Makes you wonder just what they might be raising there. A crack team of WMD-detecting sniffer sheep, perhaps, those that fail to make the grade left dotted around the hillsides for target practice. I was a little disappointed not to see any soldiers running around with twigs on their heads; clearly their camouflage worked. But I know they were out there, I could hear the gunfire later as they picked off stragglers (think Southern Comfort in reverse), which would account for why there were so few finishers.

Descending into Hades

The highlight of the day for me was the final descent, culminating in a super-steep windy run down through the trees over mud and roots. Last time I tried it I was pleased to make it halfway down in one piece. Although the über-nasty rooty drop in the middle had been cordoned off, it was still the epitome of gnarly. You just have to keep going and pray. But first the comedy sketch. My dropper post has been suffering from erectile dysfunction recently, and I wasn't keen to follow suit, so I stopped to lower my saddle for this one. Which meant getting an Allen key out of my pocket. Sounds easy, but try doing that in a hurry with two pairs of wet gloves on (mid-race brain fog preventing you from clocking the obvious solution of taking said gloves off). And then I had to get the Allen key back into the pocket, which has a magnetic closure that just wouldn't let go of the damned thing... All to be repeated, at length, once I got to the bottom and put the saddle back up. As for the descent itself, well, I went straight down first time, no drama, no dabbing, World Cup DH here I come!

Action photo of the bike at the second feed station while I stuffed my face with cake.

Red Kite Events boldly claim to offer probably the best feed stations in Britain. Well, if Carlsberg did feed stations, I imagine I'd be able to refill my water bottle faster than drip by drip (and with lager). But the food was good, very good. The cupcakes even had arty decorations on them. Free energy gels, energy drink, fruit, various cakes, flapjacks, quiche, 20 different kinds of falafel. OK, one of those isn't true. I passed on the food on the way out when I was still racing (in fifth place, third and fourth in sight), but stopped for a cake or two on the return leg when I'd given up racing (still in fifth place, third and fourth still in sight - is there a message in there somewhere?). I should also add that there was free tea, coffee and toast (albeit white bread - er, hello!) in the school before the race, and a free bowl of pasta from the owner of the Drover's Rest inn after the race. All in all, we were exceedingly well catered for (I would say "pampered" but that prompts flashbacks to the full-nappy feel of my padded shorts for 90% of this event).

Although the myriad descents were the best bit, duh, perhaps the cleverest part of the course design was the run-in from the second feed station at 37km - mainly steady, flattish fire road, bridleway and then tarmac gradually winding back down to Llanwrtyd with no nasty surprises for tired legs. The only change I might have made would be to have the initial loop in reverse at the very end, giving one less nasty climb up front for prats on singlespeeds and one final breathtaking plummet down the hill to the finish.

All told, tough but not horrendous conditions, great trails, good food and organisation, and a genuine challenge - the last rider back took over six hours to get round. Another great day out in the woods for racers and weekend warriors alike.

Pos	Last Name	First Name	Time	Gap	Lap 1
1	PAGE	Matt	3:01:24		3:01:24
2	GREEN	James	3:04:25	3'01"	3:04:25
3	BESKEEN	David	3:15:23	13'59"	3:15:23
4	ASTLEY	Martin	3:15:26	14'02"	3:15:26
5	SCHRODER	Chris	3:19:38	18'14"	3:19:38
6	HARCOURT	Justin	3:39:40	38'16"	3:39:40
7	NAYLOR	Allen	3:39:43	38'19"	3:39:43
8	SMART	Andrew	3:44:37	43'13"	3:44:37
9	CALLOW	Andrew	3:44:42	43'18"	3:44:42
10	THOMAS	Huw	3:44:59	43'35"	3:44:59

Red Kite Winter XC Series Round 3: Fail to prepare...

Star date: 22 December 2013
Location: Coed Trallwm, Mid Wales
Event: Red Kite Winter XC Series Round 3
Weapon of choice: Carbon hardtail 29er
Greatest strength: Perseverance
Greatest weakness: Preparation
Result: 7th overall, 3rd vet

Festive tinsel on bars to show I'm not taking this race seriously? Check.

Bike model name massively overstating my ability? Check.

Shockingly skeletal upper body despite recent weight gain? Check.

I'm-lovin'-it smile and wave for the camera? Something to work on...

You know when people say things like "Fail to prepare, prepare to fail" and you just think "Oh, **** off"?
 
Well, it was almost Christmas, the last event of the year, not a red letter one, not one I was taking too seriously, and I wasn't in the mood for an evening of bike maintenance, which is up there with shopping and going to the dentist in my book. So I decided that the temporary repair of the hole in my rear tyre with sealant gunk alone would just have to do, and poured another glass of wine.

You know where this is going. Come the top of the first climb, the bike's feeling odd - best ignore it. Come the first hint of a turn, it's feeling squidgey - best start praying. Come the first little jump, it's just plain flat - best start walking...

Which was a shame, because it was shaping up to be a really good race - a four-way fight between eventual top three Carwyn Davies, Scott Cornish and Gareth Jones and little old me, all of us fairly evenly matched. But it wasn't to be.

As I discovered at the Dyfi Enduro in May, mechanical issues are bloody annoying for the first ten minutes of kicking yourself (sometimes literally) and swearing (often very creatively), but sooner or later you have to move on and make the most of things. The race is over, the pressure's off and you can continue at a sensible pace without blowing a gasket, enjoy the scenery and just have fun. Which does rather beg the question, why push yourself so hard in the first place? I mean, what's more important: winning or having fun? Well, winning, duh! Put it down to the mid-life crisis...

Game over, let the fun begin.

All photos by Carol Corbett

One of the many great things about racing XC at Coed Trallwm is that you're never more than half a mile from the café and your car, and so never more than half a mile from tools/parts/extra clothing/water/a cup of tea/a slice of cake/what have you. So you can afford to travel light, which is a good thing given the terrain. Some riders, though, and generally the ones who would benefit most from a little less extra weight to hoist up that there hill, choose to take a mahoosive pack anyway. What on Earth do they stash in there? How long are they expecting to be marooned for? I mean, there's preparing for every eventuality but it's like they've stocked up for a nuclear winter. There's only so much in the way of food, drink, clothing, tools and spares you could possibly need over the course of two hours (unless, of course, you're doing your MBLA Trail Cycle Leader assessment (did I mention I passed?) but that's another story). And most of these riders are already carrying a spare tyre around their middle (boom, boom). The mind boggles.

I, at the other extreme (which, to be honest, is where I feel most at home), was travelling light. Very light, as in not even a tube (if you exclude me). Gareth Jones did kindly bung me his spare tube, but I spent an age getting it up (oo-er) and within 200 yards the bugger was flat again. So I had to run all the way back down the hill anyway for a quick dash into the pits Formula 1-style while my crew got me back on the road. Oh, OK, so I grabbed a floor-pump and stuff from the back of the car. And off I went again, a good ten minutes lost.


Luckily my next mechanical was almost but not quite literally within spitting distance of my car. At the end of the second lap, the chain popped off on a drop and got well and truly jammed against the frame, grinding off tear-inducing amounts of paint and carbon. Another ten minutes was then lost to remove a crank and free said chain (thanks Neil), and then I really was just riding for pride, out for a jolly in the woods. But, you know, I wasn't the only one:

Time for a caption competition. Answers on a postcard...

Another slightly bizarre moment in the race was all my doing. At one point I caught up with fellow blogger Tom Stickland who I've never met face-to-face so I thought I'd say hello and instinctively stuck out a hand. Shaking hands mid-way through an XC race is pretty random in itself; thing is, it's clear from Tom's blog here that the poor man didn't have a clue who I was...

Anyway, race organiser Neil Delafield made a good call on the course given the recent spate of wet 'n' windy weather, cutting out the muddy bits from last time and sticking to the surfaced trails, taking us round the whole of the Coed Trallwm black route (previously ridden here) and most of the blue route. The trails were surprisingly well-drained in the circumstances, making for fun, fast descents. The café was warm and welcoming as usual, and Carol Corbett did a cracking job of taking pictures (she took absolutely loads), although she evidently buggered off home when the hail started on the final lap, which isn't really cricket.

What's more, my perseverance despite the aforementioned mechanical issues paid off in spades as I eventually finished third in class and bagged this stunning prize:

So, despite many trials and tribulations, this was half-full:

And this dude was back:

Can't wait for January, with two top events coming up: the Frozen Devil on the 5th and the Dyfi Winter Warm Up on the 26th, both over 40-50 km and featuring wild enduro descents and a whole lot of climbing - the perfect recipe. And, of course, the XC series itself returns on the 12th with a new longer-lap format, which sounds fun.

Happy New Year!

Pos		Name	Time		Lap 1	Lap 2	Lap 3	Lap 4
1		Carwyn Davies	1:39:03		22:48	24:58	25:17	25:58
2		Scott Cornish	1:42:14		24:07	25:37	25:57	26:32
3		Gareth Jones	1:45:30		24:52	26:28	27:04	27:05
4		Andrew Evans	1:50:27		25:16	26:55	28:45	29:30
5		Peter Cartner	2:00:23		27:17	30:39	30:33	31:52
6		Paul Roberts	2:00:28		28:32	30:35	30:16	31:04
7		Chris Schroder	2:03:32		35:34	34:18	25:58	27:40
8		Wayne Davies	2:04:18		27:45	30:35	33:49	32:07
9		Alan Fardner	2:09:06		28:25	33:29	32:53	34:18
10		Tom Stickland	2:11:17		29:50	32:46	33:37	35:03

And finally a load more pictures nobody will want to see:

Lap 2: Gurning down the top descent

Lap 3: Turning the QE2 (or 29er as they're also known)

Coed y Brenin Enduro: My highlight of the year

Star date: 6 October 2013
Location: Coed y Brenin, North Wales
Event: Howies Coed y Brenin Enduro
Weapon of choice: Carbon 29er hardtail with 30 gears
Greatest achievement: Grabbing 3rd place at the death
Greatest weakness: Balls not big enough
Result: 3rd overall, 2nd vet

I'm kind of falling out of love with blogging. It's turning into a chore and I'm getting way behind, I don't really know who I'm writing for or why, and I don't feel like I have anything more to say. Regular readers will already have learned that:

1. Mountain bike races are equal parts tiring, scary and fun
2. Racing on a singlespeed is a viable proposition: reliable, light, fast but hard work
3. I love mountain biking
4. Wales is very muddy
5. I'm just not one of those people who look cool on a bike

What else is there?

So the plan is to keep this one fairly short - even though this was Event of the Year for me in terms of both the fun factor and my performance. Which seems a little unfair on both the organisers and my ego, but, hey, something's gotta give. The official event photographer, bless him, has also done his bit, contriving to miss the leading riders at all three points on the course where he managed to snap everyone else in soft-focus hardcore action, so there are precious few pictures to accompany these words.

Having loved the Dyfi Enduro back in May but made such a hash of it (see here), I was looking forward to its northern cousin and had a point to prove. The rain had put a slight damper (geddit?) on what was supposed to be the highlight of the season a fortnight earlier at Margam (see here), but the return of dryish conditions meant that I now had another chance to see just what the new steed and I were capable of.

Posh video of the weekend by Will Sanders which makes it all look so much easier than it really was. If you're really, really patient (the video host won't let me link straight to it), check out the start of the race around 2m30s in: Gareth Payne flying off the blocks like Usain Bolt; me having a natter, folding my arms, oblivious to the bearded gunman (bet he rides a singlespeed), and then "Shit, we're starting!"

The start was marked with a gunshot, and appropriately enough clubmate/friend/inspiration Gareth Payne went off like a bullet, full-on sprinting up the first part of an interminable fireroad climb which gradually grew steeper and rougher until the forest gave way to open moorland three miles later and 600 feet higher. I decided to take it steady but was soon clear in second place and very gradually reeling Gareth in. Come the first whiff of a descent, though, he was out of sight and out of mind - I knew any chance I had of keeping up with him was now gone.

Enjoying second place coming off the moor onto the road. Photos by Clic Clic

By the time we dropped off the moor I was a long way ahead in second, but this was not to last. The first descent was wet and rutted and fast, never my favourite combination early in a race. It also led onto Abel, one of the best but scariest downhill sections on the man-made trails at Coed y Brenin. Whatever you do, don't look down...

If you've never done any mountain biking and wonder what it's like, do watch this video. It's the best I've seen at conveying how it feels to hurtle down a good descent. I've even managed to get it to start automatically at the interesting bit. Includes a coolly executed tactical dismount by rider/cameraman Ryan Jones.

It starts OK but then gets rockier and steeper with big steps/jumps and a nasty drop to one side, so the penalty for failure can be quite severe. I thought I was doing OK until I heard two riders behind gaining on me fast. I eased off the brakes and managed to reach the bottom without quite being caught and having to move aside, but I was gutted to have all that hard work on the way up wiped out on the way down. This would be an all-too-familiar pattern over the course of the race as I jockeyed for position with Matt Mountford and Jon Roberts, the three of us battling it out for second place. While their superior descending was disheartening at first, it soon became a source of inspiration: if they could ride those descents that fast on a cross-country hardtail, then so could I. In theory.

The course went on to take in most, if not all, of the singletrack sections on the classic MBR and Dragon's Back trails. The man-made stuff at Coed y Brenin is fantastic - sometimes fast and flowing, sometimes slow and tricky, but unrelentingly technical with plenty of rocks and roots to keep you on your toes:



Mixed into this were some interesting "natural" trails - read unsurfaced and unpredictable. My winter training on local bridleways really came into its own here, as I hunted down grip and traction through the inevitable muddy and boggy bits. I completely missed the turning onto one climb - a big thanks to a sporting Matt Mountford for calling down to me from up the hill. It was the last I saw of him, though. Another section was marked with a full three downward arrows, MTB-speak for "make sure you're not behind on your life insurance". It started off very, very steep but smooth, which was OK, but then it got even steeper and a whole lot rougher as it plummeted down to a rocky stream crossing, which was not OK. It was actually a job getting down there on foot without cartwheeling to my doom. No way was I going to attempt riding that without an extensive survey, a lengthy pep talk and a few false starts, and I had no time for any of that nonsense with Jon Roberts hot on my heels.

Another natural descent that sticks in the mind was a straightish and smoothish but narrow and off-camber traverse of a very steep wooded hillside, further enlivened by an über-slippery damp-larch-needles-and-roots combo. My memory might be playing tricks on me, but I remember it being something like this:

The feed station at 40km was where I finally lost Jon and gave up on a top three finish. The place was teeming with just-for-fun riders on the short course packing in the flapjacks, which made getting to the water possibly the hardest part of the whole race. The ensuing climb was a mind-numbing, soul-destroying slog on tired legs, but gave way to an exhilarating descent back down to the visitor centre, which just went on and on and on before turning into the world's worst crazy paving for a rocky, steppy, scary finale. Absolutely brilliant.

They thought it was all over, but it wasn't - there was still another 10km to go on the other side of the A470 on bits of the Tarw and Red Bull trails. I was well and truly knackered by now and just hanging on.

No smiles for the camera now. Winding my way through the 30km riders with 10 km to go.

I know this side of the forest well from a few XC races and the much-missed Mawddach Goldrush event, which has now morphed into a running race. Madness. Strangely - and luckily - the big fireroad climb up to the top was way shorter and flatter than I remembered it. I must be fitter than a year ago! And half-way up I spotted a familiar figure weaving his way past the slower riders - Jon Roberts. To claim I got a second wind would be an exaggeration. I just kept grinding up the hill at what felt like a snail's pace, and eventually caught and passed him.

So far, so good. But I had a good idea of what was coming next - basically making our way back down the hill - and Jon descends much faster than me. So I absolutely hammered through the next bit of flattish singletrack, held up only slightly by some very well-behaved back markers who kindly stopped to let me past unbidden, one of them taking a tumble in the process.

I was riding like a man possessed. A long flattish chunk of fireroad (thank goodness I had gears for once) led onto a section called Rocky Horror, which isn't actually very rocky, more a super-fast windy ribbon of singletrack, but I had history here. At the Mawddach Goldrush 18 months earlier I pinch-punctured front and rear tyres together half-way down this section - on both of the laps I completed before finally giving up. (I also picked up three punctures elsewhere, making a total of 11 holes to repair that day, fact fans). Somehow putting this out of my mind, I flew down there as fast as I dared. Well actually a bit faster than that. Surely Jon couldn't go any quicker than that. Or could he?

Next up was Pins and Needles - more dodgy crazy paving, but familiar crazy paving. I must've done this section and then the old Red Bull pump track down to the finish by the old visitor centre a dozen times in XC races. I was beginning to feel confident now. Past the point where I smashed my brakes earlier this year; past the place where I lost my saddle last year. But boy was I tired now.

Near the end, very near the end, the trail turns up a slight climb. Maybe 50 yards long. Nightmare. I thought I was going to collapse. But I willed myself on and somehow managed to keep going. Then it was downhill again, the final section along the river. Nearly lost it on a rooty corner, got a round of applause from slower riders for staying aboard. Kept on going, hit the finish line, done it - third! Yay!!! Jon too must have been knackered, as I finished a good minute clear of him in the end. I was also only a couple of minutes behind Matt Mountford, but I really couldn't have given any more.

This was my best result ever. The trails were brilliant. The bike was brilliant (I wouldn't have made third on the singlespeed). And I was pretty darn good too, even if I say so myself. I will definitely do this one again. It isn't as "out there" as the Dyfi in terms of nuttiness or remoteness, but it's a cracking mix of everything. But boy was it tough.

Completely failed to keep this one short, didn't I?

1		Gareth	Payne	60km	Male 40+			3hr 22min 17sec
2		Matt	Mountford	60km	Male 18-40			3hr 28min 43sec
3		Chris	Schroder	60km	Male 40+			3hr 31min 3sec
4		Jon	Roberts	60km	Male 40+			3hr 32min 37sec
5		james	joyce	60km	Male 18-40			3hr 40min 35sec
6		Matthew	Bennett	60km	Male 18-40			3hr 41min 33sec
7		Tony	Carter	60km	Male 40+			3hr 43min 52sec
8		James	Holmes	60km	Male 18-40			3hr 43min 55sec
9		toby	vye	60km	Male 18-40			3hr 49min 51sec
10		andrew	bone	60km	Male 40+			3hr 50min 27sec
11		Ifan	Richards	60km	Male 18-40			3hr 53min 7sec
12		Darren	Moore	60km	Male 40+			3hr 54min 8sec
13		Mark	Norry	60km	Male 18-40			3hr 54min 37sec
14		Stephen	Aucock	60km	Male 18-40			3hr 58min 31sec
15		Dylan	Stephens	60km	Male 40+			3hr 59min 10sec
16		Adam	Haynes	60km	Male 40+			4hr 1min 48sec
17		Alvin	Jones	60km	Male 40+			4hr 2min 27sec
18		Steve	Rogers	60km	Male 40+			4hr 2min 33sec
19		Gareth	Sanger	60km	Male 18-40			4hr 4min 31sec
20		Andy	Roberts	60km	Male 40+			4hr 6min 10sec
21		gareth	jones	60km	Male 18-40			4hr 6min 21sec
22		Chris	Atkin	60km	Male 18-40			4hr 6min 46sec
23		Jim	Tipp	60km	Luddite (Singlespeed)			4hr 9min 10sec
24		Peter	Lloyd	60km	Male 16-17			4hr 10min 42sec
25		Mark	Price	60km	Male 40+			4hr 10min 57sec
26		Jason	Lightwood	60km	Male 40+			4hr 10min 58sec
27		Tim	Beardmore	60km	Male 40+			4hr 11min 5sec
28		Barry	Evans	60km	Male 40+			4hr 11min 7sec
29		Ian	Wilmshurst	60km	Male 18-40			4hr 11min 32sec
30		Barry	Goodyear	60km	Male 40+			4hr 12min 20sec

Red Kite Winter XC Series Round 2: Sheryl Crow has a point

Star date: 24 November 2013
Location: Coed Trallwm, Mid Wales
Event: Red Kite Winter XC Series Round 2
Weapon of choice: Rigid carbon singlespeed
Greatest weakness: Choice of weapon
Result: 3rd

If it makes you happy
It can't be that bad
If it makes you happy
Then why the hell are you so sad

I really didn't enjoy this one.

It wasn't the trails, which were the usual rough diamonds. It wasn't the weather, which was cold but dry, or the organisation, which was slick. And it wasn't the après-ride company or the welcoming bosom of the log-cabin café with its £2-a-pop pumpkin soup and rustic bread. It was all me.

The course was the same as last time with the addition of a flatter, faster loop familiar from previous races here and the strategic application of a few barrowloads of gravel to make the muddiest rootiest techiest section more rideable for the less gifted and able. But this time I didn't enjoy the climbs one bit; I didn't enjoy scaring myself silly on the descents nearly as much as usual; I didn't even enjoy splashing through the ford. What a misery.
 

First lap. Still clean and trying the go-slowly trick to keep feet dry. Didn't work. 

Photos: Carol Corbett

Obviously I shot myself in the foot by choosing a singularly inappropriate tool for the job, the mountain biking equivalent of a penny farthing. No gears was fine (until it wasn't). No suspension was a surmountable challenge (I'd sent my suspension forks to the doctor, who sent them back saying I should've sent them to the undertaker). No front brake after half a descent (due to a fluid leak) was another matter. Add in almost no front wheel on the second lap after it made a sudden bid for freedom, and distinctly limited vision at times due to persistent mud-in-eye issues, and I was pretty much out of control on the descents. Beware the one-eyed trail snake!

Of greater concern, though, was my sluggishness on the climbs. My legs felt heavy from the off, and I struggled on both the big climb and the little climb on every lap. In the car on the way home, I came up with a number of reasons why this might have been. The best by far was that maybe my thermal tights were too tight, robbing me of power on every pedal stroke as they only reluctantly stretched over each knee...

It's crystal-clear from Strava, though, that the reason I felt so bad is simply that I was going so damned fast. My climbing times were among my best ever at Coed Trallwm despite the energy-sapping tackiness of the fireroads, and so were my descending times in spite (or maybe because) of the absence of brakes and suspension. Runaway winner Gareth Payne set a ferocious pace from the start, and after losing him at the top of the first hill I went on to spend the remainder of the race having a right old ding-dong for second place with Abergavenny rider Tim Rose. Every climb I'd pull clear, and every descent he'd use his downhill racing experience to catch up again.

That's how you do it.

Only after a last-gasp effort to drop him on lap 4 did I finally manage to make it out of the ford without hearing the dreaded splash as he piled into the water behind me. Finally I'd done it, I'd broken him, he'd given up on second place, and I went on to cross the finishing line well ahead - only to hear the bell for the final lap. Oops. This almost-90-minutes-plus-a-lap-for-the-leader format does my head in - I always seem to get it wrong.

Not only did I think I was finished - I really was finished. I could only half-ride and half-walk the final climb, watching Tim disappear into the distance. And then, to add insult to injury, well actually injury to insult, or more precisely bruised hip to bruised ego, the front end washed out suddenly on a tight right-hander on the extra loop and dumped me unceremoniously on the deck. Ouch.

It's definitely half-empty

I was really disappointed to come third. I know, I know, most people would be more than pleased with that. Such as everyone who finished behind me. Ordinarily so would I, but to lose second like that after two hours of hard slog was galling. Of course, it wouldn't have happened on a proper bike.

With luck, though, my glass will be brimming over with festive spirit at round 3 on 22 December and Mr Happy will be back. Even I can't take a race too seriously that close to Christmas. In fact I'm looking forward to it already.

Read another take on the race from Tom Stickland here

Gareth Payne	01:46:26	19:36	21:15	21:28	21:47	22:18
Tim Rose	01:53:52	20:33	22:31	23:00	23:45	24:01
Chris Schroder	01:56:50	20:30	22:31	22:37	23:23	27:46
James Pritchard	02:04:10	22:15	24:19	24:43	26:01	26:50
Jim Tipp	02:06:03	25:50	25:21	25:26	24:20	25:32
Peter Lloyd	02:06:14	22:38	24:46	25:06	27:04	26:39
Daniel Philips	02:07:51	23:02	25:00	26:03	26:36	27:07
Stephen Aucock	02:13:27	22:54	25:12	26:42	27:43	30:55
Peter Carter	02:17:23	24:17	26:27	27:21	28:15	31:01

Margam Madness: Margam Mudness!

Star date: 21 September 2013
Location: Margam Park, South Wales
Event: Margam Madness 4hr
Weapon of choice: Carbon 29er hardtail with 30 gears
Greatest achievement: Surviving the descents
Greatest weakness: Seated climbing
Result: 4th veteran / 6th overall

If I had to sum up the day in one photo:

 My reaction to dismounting unexpectedly on boggy ground seconds before (see below). Note deployment of waterproof jacket in a race (yikes!) albeit only for the first lap until I warmed up.

All photos: The intrepid and clearly web-footed Christopher Bentley

As I may possibly have mentioned before, I love Margam. And the Madness was my favourite race of last year - a testing course on a rare sunny day. This time, though, the weather gods weren't playing ball, and the whole day was spent stuck in a big wet bastard cloud. Up top, visibility was best measured in inches, and everywhere it was damp and drizzly, turning parts of the course into a squishy quagmire. Despite the adverse conditions, it was far from a miserable ordeal, thanks to a well-designed course with challenging climbs and wild descents, and a relaxed and welcoming atmosphere - from the friendly sign-on to the world's most encouraging marshal at the course's spaghetti junction to the handshake from the organiser as you cross the finishing line.

   

The eagle-eyed may have spotted a mention of 30 gears above. Yes, I caved. Relentless peer pressure and bitter disappointment at the Brecon Beast left me weak and vulnerable, and the right bike came on the market at just the wrong/right time. Fear not, oh bearded ones, I have not entirely lost the faith, as I have since raced on the singlespeed again (see my last blog - I'm getting out of sync) and plan to do so again.

One of the two big advantages of racing a singlespeed is its low weight - you don't have all those chain rings/sprockets/shifters/derailleurs/cables weighing you down on climbs. However, the ex-team triple-ring 29er of which I am now the proud and penniless second owner may have big wheels and lots of gears, but is clearly made of tissue paper as it's exactly the same weight.

The other advantage of racing without gears is that you don't have the option of taking it easy and changing down into an easier gear, so you have to go full pelt the whole time. Until you get tired, of course, when this turns into its biggest disadvantage, as I've found in my three XC races at Margam on the singlespeed this year and even on the 8-speed at the Madness last year, when I had to walk a fair few climbs.

No doubt about it, Margam Madness is a tough event. The climbing isn't massive in terms of metres, but it's pretty steep and pretty intense, with the whole race done close to XC speed. In other words, you go the same pace as for a two-hour race, only for four hours, which obviously makes the second half of the race pretty bloody tough. If you won't take my word for it, read here what European 24-hour champion Huw Thomas made of it last year - and that was without having the energy-sapping properties of wet grass and mud to contend with.

Anyway, enough of the excuses, I hear you cry, worrabout the race?

A fast flat start to the race saw me take advantage of my newfangled technology and actually keep up with the pack, but this led into the wooded section of the XC loop in reverse - read slippy tricky singletrack that had people stalling and hopping off all over the place and spread the field massively. It was frustrating to be stuck behind people cocking up the roots and steps, but I didn't fare any better myself, on the first lap at least. Fortunately I had a bit of space for the first hairy feature of the day, a short descent through some rhododendrons that required you to duck below a low branch, slide through a sea of porridge round a big bermed corner and then commit to skiing down a chocolate fountain onto a fireroad where you had to turn on a penny to avoid getting overly close and personal with a tree. You gotta love it.

Not so keen on what happened next, though. Some helpful child or dog walker had removed a sign after the leaders had gone through, sending the bulk of the field the wrong way. We soon realised this, regrouped and headed back to where we thought we should have gone - which was also wrong but did eventually get us back on track. I don't think it made any difference to the final placings, as the leaders were faster throughout, but it certainly skewed the times for the first lap by 3-4 minutes (see below).

The rest of the lap was similar to last year's event with a couple of added bits. The main climb from the XC races that I could only manage for a few laps on the singlespeed? No problem with gears. The rooty bits through the woods at the top? No problem with gears. The big climb from the ford out the back of the park? Still an absolute pig, but at least I could alternate between seated and standing. The long drag up to the trig point? Way harder than on the singlespeed - I missed my bar ends.

 

And the descents? Well, the rocky chute inevitably became a muddy chute, but I'm getting quite used to it now, to be honest, and the main hazard was other riders walking down. Rhododendron Riot still leaves you deliciously out of control towards the end. The two steep, narrow and increasingly gloopy singletrack descents at the back of the park saw me make the odd detour into the bracken, and I came within a hair's breadth of going over the bars in front of the cameras on the roots on the last lap, but ultimately I managed to stay on the bike throughout and get in plenty of practice on the old ski turns.

I did fall off once, but not on a descent. End of the first lap, innocuous flat section through the grass, got caught in a hidden rut and went over right in front of a photographer - oops!

I almost went off again on the last lap on the vertiginous Kidney Shaker descent down to the finish. I slid sideways, stuck out a leg to steady myself and was paralysed by the most crippling cramp in my right calf. I ended up having to drop onto all fours right across the trail, one shoe still attached to the bike, and just wait there for what seemed an eternity until it eased. I'd been fighting off cramp for well over an hour by then; the damp conditions and fatigue doubtless played a role, but I reckon it was mainly down to the gears using my leg muscles in new ways.

After the first lap, the field spread out and I was surprised to find myself snapping at the heels of last year's winner Huw Thomas for a lap, but he eventually pulled clear and the second half of the race was quite a lonely affair, lapping the odd rider but generally having no idea who was in front or behind or by how much, as visibility was so poor on the open sections. I was a tad disappointed to finish 4th in category after making the podium last year, but pleased with 6th overall, and I was only 80 seconds behind Richard Samuel, who was first vet last year. It's hard to draw any conclusions about the performance of either rider or steed in such testing conditions, but the Cube definitely enabled me to stay on the bike more than usual - both uphill, thanks to the gears, and downhill, thanks to the 29" wheels with their extra grip and smoother ride. I might have been faster on the singlespeed - but only until I had to start walking...

All in all, a tough but exhilarating course in tough but exhilarating conditions - loved it!


Over 40s:

1	03:56:02	Mark Spratt, Cardiff Jif	00:40:57	00:48:52	00:47:04	00:49:41	00:49:28
2	03:09:25	Andy Jones, Clee Cycles KCNC Torus	00:40:53	00:47:29	00:48:23	00:52:40
3	03:17:12	Richard Samuel, Clee Cycles/KCNC	00:44:14	00:46:58	00:51:06	00:54:54
4	03:18:33	Chris Schroder, Sarn Helen	00:45:12	00:48:32	00:51:03	00:53:46

Under 40s:

1	03:35:54	Tim Dunford, Mountain Trax Vauxhall Motors	00:40:21	00:41:36	00:43:41	00:44:33	00:45:43
2	03:15:39	Huw Thomas, Niner / Loco tuning	00:44:27	00:49:07	00:49:30	00:52:35
3	03:32:50	Justin Harcourt, Urban-Cyclery.co.uk RT	00:47:10	00:52:41	00:55:05	00:57:54