Well, that escalated quickly…

Blimey, I’ve gone a bit slack on the blogging front – I last posted on my birthday.

Well, if it’s any consolation, I’ve done a lot of riding this year – more than ever before!  Aaah, the benefits of a good summer – it was fantastic when it finally made an appearance!  I’ve been going out on rides in the evening on the local bridleways and quiet country roads, and also joining in with the Thursday night XC rides run by RLSCC.  This has made the weekends a lot more productive too – I can now do two laps of the Dog fairly comfortably, and have even done two laps of the Dog and the blue.  Admittedly I end up walking a bit like a cowboy after a hefty ride over the Chase, but it’s nothing that a bag of frozen peas and 400mg of ibuprofen can’t cure.

Sadly my racing has been limited this year – I didn’t fancy Mountain Mayhem, Sleepless was cancelled, Bonty 24/12 was the same weekend as my sister-in-law’s wedding (which was ace) and Torq in Your Sleep was the day before Mr Toast started his new job at Sega.  But things calmed down. Benny finally passed his bronze Good Citizenship test! All was well.  We started to ponder From Dusk Til Dawn.

Then I was made redundant.

To describe Thursday morning as ‘very surreal’ doesn’t really do it justice.  We were working away as usual. I went to the toilet, and, as I sat in the cubicle, I heard the door open and a male voice say, “Is anybody in here?”

I initially thought it was going to be a maintenance guy, but when I answered and had the response, “It’s Tom, you need to come to the second floor for a company meeting” – that was when I knew that something was seriously amiss. If the male company lawyer is coming into the ladies’ toilets and saying that everybody needs to go to an unscheduled company meeting, it’s not going to be for happy fun times. If you think differently, you’re either a deranged optimist or a pervert. Possibly both.

We shuffled to the second floor, a sea of concerned faces and nervous laughter.  I cracked a joke about The Hunger Games – truth be told, I was expected mass redundancies.  Blitz had tried so hard to buck the trend of hire and fire that’s prevalent in the industry that it was surely about time to slim down?  May the odds be ever in your favour.

What I wasn’t expecting was the entire company to have ceased trading, with the loss of over 170 jobs.

It was at the same time both kind of expected and a complete and an utter surprise.  Blitz had sailed close to the line over the past few years, trying to adapt from console development to a broader range of projects.  With the demise of THQ, the bottom falling out of anything other than AAA console development and the emergence of mobile and tablet gaming, it was a struggle.  But I think people always expected them to last – ten years is a long, long time in the games industry, and for an independent developer, over twenty years is almost unheard of.

It’s strange, because although Blitz never made a AAA hit, or anything that your stereotypical hardcore gamer would embrace, it’s a genuine loss to the industry.  Indie Celebrity(TM), former colleague and all-round good egg Mike Bithell wrote a lovely eulogy on Eurogamer.  So many of my former colleagues are at studios around the world – in Amsterdam, working on Killzone.  In Canada, working on Mass Effect.  Closer to home, in Twycross, working on super-secret Rare things.  I can’t help but imagine that when the news hit the gaming industry grapevine, that it was like Alderaan being blown up by the Death Star – millions of voices suddenly crying out. 

Because although Blitz wasn’t without its flaws (what company isn’t?), it contributed so much.  Blitz was willing to take on placement students, and graduates, or even with people without degrees, as long as they had the talent.  They allowed me to go out an champion accessibility in games development. They championed improved links between the industry and academia, helping students come out of university with relevant skills. And the Olivers are incredibly, incredibly nice, talking with relentless enthusiasm.  Hopefully something good will spring from the ashes.

So, what now? Well, fortunately Al started at Sega a few weeks ago, so at least one of us is in a job.  He at one point called me ‘a lady of leisure’. I threatened to punch him.  But I’ve got a few interviews coming up this week – all great companies, but I’m aware that I also have a lot of great competition now.

Interesting times!

I should be posting about my previous rides…

…over the Monkey.  Four so far this year, three of which went well, one which went… less well.  Took the Boneshaker a bit quick (not a euphemism) and came off in quite spectacular fashion, although fortunately I was remarkably unscathed apart from a few scuffs.

But no, let’s not talk about that.  Let’s consider this instead.

Five Ten Impact Karver for wimmins

Yes, my first review is going to be about shoes.  I am a walking stereotype.

Five Ten Impact Karver (Women’s)

Long term readers of this blog may recall that I obtained my Five Tens in January 2010. At the time I described them as being “incredibly comfortable, and incredibly grippy!”.  But how have they fared over the past three years?

The answer is – very well.  Although they’re starting to show their age a bit with the interior of the back of the heel starting to come apart (which is probably partially my fault for trying to ram my feet in without full undoing the laces…), the soles are still solid and the bulk of the shoe is still as solid as ever.  This is pretty impressive given that these are the only shoes I ever go mountain biking in, and for a year or so they were also my commuting shoes too.

It’s even more impressive when you take into account that they survived two Sleepless in the Saddles and two Mountain Mayhems, including 2012’s which were… a trifle inclement, to say the least.  They’ve been through the washing machine several times and emerged clean and unscathed.

Durability aside, they’re also some of the most comfortable shoes that I own. I have awkward feet – one’s a size 6, the other a size 6.5, and they’re also very narrow, which is INCREDIBLY ANNOYING.  I mean, seriously – there are many parts of my body I wish were narrower: my face, my thighs, my waist, my arms… but my feet?  They’re an absolute nightmare – the standard with is a D, and although many high street chains do wider fittings, absolutely bugger all companies do narrower ones.  Usually the inside of my shoes end up a mess of innersoles, stick-on cushions and extra socks, but the Karvers are actually pretty good for me straight out of the box – which is probably worth bearing in mind, as this may be a problem for women who do need wider shoe fittings.

Functionally, they’re great – very grippy and comfortable for riding, feeling secure on the pedals, but also comfortable for walking.  Aesthetically, they’re a bit marmite – I quite like them, but I have to admit I stopped wearing them to work after a colleague kept on making fun of them looking like ‘special shoes’ due to the supportive padding around the ankle.  I like the grey, black and magenta colour scheme (*cough*) particularly now it matches my Scott Scale 29, *cough*) – they clean up from being muddy pretty well too.  I quite fancy the new Karvers, but really? White? White?  Who, in the name of Odin’s beard, makes mountain biking shoes in white? I’m guessing that decision wasn’t made by anybody who lives in the UK…

So, all in all, personally I’d really recommend the Karvers. Which is a good thing really, as there’s practically bugger all else in terms of flats for women mountain bikers…

An update!

Right, WordPress updated, spam comments about handbags and the Middle East dealt with, and back to the blog!

So, what have I been up to?  Well, some of my racing schedule has been determined this year – I’m giving Mountain Mayhem a miss, sending Mr Toast out to be some sort of giant mountain biking guinea pig at the new venue.  He’s racing with the Chase Trails team of four (Ian, henceforth known as Crazy Ian, is soloing again). Three fifths of the intrepid Chase Trails chaps can be seen here, stalking Pat Adams’ house late at night, which isn’t weird at all.

img_2225Photo taken by famed event photographer Rob Crayton, who hangs outside Pat Adams’ house late at night with a camera.

I’ll be providing moral support… or pointing and laughing.  Time will tell!  At least there will be less chance of rain if I’m not riding…

I will be riding Sleepless in the Saddle though, and I have to confess to contemplating the Wiggle 6 Hour Enduro, which is also at Catton.  After all, six hours is only slightly longer than it took me to do one lap at Mayhem last year! \o/  I’d be soloing it, as Mr Toast is rather bogged down with work at the moment.

I’ve done a bit of riding this year, mostly getting used to..

TTT_first_ride

TEN TON TESS! Also known as Tess of the Hurr Durrbervilles – a Scott Scale Contessa 910 29er. I’ve not taken her on a full ride of Follow the Dog yet, preferring to put the miles in on the tamer fireroads just to get used to her ridiculously large wheels and her quite frankly preposterous wide bars.  I’ve done a bit of FtD on her, and some off-piste-probably-shouldn’t-talk-about-them trails on a group ride.

I’ve also become an aunt twice in the space of two months, so I’m plotting to buy two balance bikes in about 18 months for my nephews.  I’m totally going to live my gnar radcore biking dreams vicariously through them – it’ll be awesome.

Aaaand I’ve also been keeping up with my resolution to get back into drawing more, with my project “A Benny a Week”.  The aim is to produce one piece of art a week featuring my dog, which will hopefully improve my artistic skills.

I should be fairly good at drawing Tibetan Terriers by the end of 2013 at the very least.

So, here’s to more biking, more drawing and more nephews.  Huzzah!

And that’s how I ruined Mountain Mayhem!

Ah, Mountain Mayhem.  You may recall that last year, I had a slightly tough time of it, struggling with the inclement weather, the climbs, and my lap clocking in at over two hours.

Well, if last year was inclement, then this year was, if you’ll pardon my French, fucking unholy.

But let’s start at the start. We bowled up at Castle Eastnor on Friday with Jag, Xye and young Benny Lava in tow, ready to rock.   It was raining, and the campsite was a bit moist, but no fear!  We decided to go to the catering tent to sign in before putting the tents up.

Well, the arena area was muddy, to put it mildly.  As we signed in at the catering tent, one of the admin staff went arse over tit in the mud.  Yes, not even the interior of the tents were immune to the horror.  Certainly added an element of peril to eating – can you get to a seat without slipping and dropping your curry? LET’S FIND OUT!

Fortunately the answer was yes.

2012-06-23-090006.jpg

Any illusion that this was going to be a jolly weekend camping in the sun with the dog had completely gone out of the window.  Poor Benny looked frail and up to his armpits in mud, and seemed decidedly unimpressed with the proceedings.  We decided that the weekend would be fairly nightmarish for all involved if Benny stayed with us, so off I went back home, where t’boy could spend the weekend in comfort, starting with a warm bath.  You would have made the same decision.  I mean, just look at him. LOOK AT HIM.

 

2012-06-22-160115.jpg

When I returned, Camp Chase Trails had been firmly established.  Yay!

 

 

First night was nippy, but the tent was actually quite comfortable and roomy, and infinitely improved by not having a miserable soggy Tibetan Terrier glaring at us folornly.  We tried to mentally prepare for the forthcoming race.

 

Aside from the evidence of our own eyes, the first indication of the horrors to come in the race briefing.  Team members only had to do one lap, not two. For elites, it was cut down from four to three. Teams wouldn’t be disqualified for members having to abandon their lap due to mechanicals.  Repeated references to endurance.  Erk.

Young master Jaggy was first up on our team.  Rather entertainingly, he had somehow interpreted “Yeah, last year’s run was a mile and a half, it’s going to be shorter this year” as “The run is only 500 metres”.  Oh, how we laughed!  Well, we laughed, Jag seemed slightly less amused.

Toast’s plans assumed that we’d be taking about two hours per lap, so we dutifully waited for Jag to come in.  We waited, and we waited, and we were getting slightly concerned.  Had he fallen off?  Had he broken his bike?  Fortunately, he was fine, but he came in forty minutes later than expected.  Can you imagine that? FORTY MINUTES!

It became clear looking at the laptimes that we would have to re-evalute our estimates.  I set out just before 6pm.  I’d be back about 9pm, I thought.  Maybe 9.30pm.

Well, the first half of the lap went relatively smoothly.   Well, apart from when I fell off almost immediately in the first wooded section. I rode most of it, although had to spend a lot of time pulled over to the side to let people pass on the singletrack.  Last year’s resolution of being a bit more forthright and assertive dissolved under the weight of shouty men that were far better riding in the mud than myself.  Still, the last woody singletrack section before it rejoined the fireroad was actually nearly enjoyable.  I made my way back down into the arena, feeling fairly pleased.

Then the true horror began.  The ground became more boggy.  Given that I struggle with long steep climbs at the best of times, at that last year I’d found it horrendous after a couple of hours of rain, the rest of track was a nightmare.  I think I actually pushed my bike for 90% of the second half, and, as the light began to fade, I realised that there was no way I’d make it back in time.  I tried to phone Mr Toast, but there was no signal, so I plodded on.  Hilariously, the same condition that makes it hard for me to ride a bike uphill also makes it rather awkward to walk downhill.

I asked a marshall if I’d be disqualified for being pulled off the track, and he said he didn’t know.  As I didn’t want to risk disqualification for the team, and I’d already done seven miles and it seemed stupid to give up, I decided to continue on.  The off-camber section was possibly the worst, struggling to make my way whilst also keeping out of the way of everyone else – who were also pushing or carrying their bikes, just considerably faster than me.

I genuinely, geniunely hated that second half.  There was cursing and there were tears, and a solemn vow to myself that not only should I never, ever, EVER entertain the notion of doing Mountain Mayhem again, but I should probably give Sleepless a miss too.  However, as I made my way back into the arena, my spirits lifted.  The end was in sight!

Mr Toast and Xye cheered me in, and I passed the finish line at five hours and fourteen minutes.  Mr Toast was relieved –  as I’d been engaging in my act of ultimate stubborness, the rest of my team had been running around, desperately trying to figure out what had happened to me.  The notion that I was still out on the track was, I’m informed, ‘inconceivable’, such was my husband’s faith in my ability to finish at anything resembling a sensible time.  Being told by a rider that a woman in a blue top had been seen being carried off by a quad earlier didn’t ease their worries either.  I supposed two hours twenty-or so up to five hours fourteen is quite a leap, but, well.  It was muddy.

After escorting me back to the tent, they tried to find Jag, who was on a bold quest to find out if I’d died.  Eventually we all came back together.  Because everyone had been waiting for hours for me in the open, in the pouring raid, running backwards and forwards between the medic tent, the control tower and the Chase Trails camp, no-one really felt like going out that night.  The next day, both Mr Toast and Xye felt ill (poor Xye had been recovering from being ill a week previously, Mountain Mayhem isn’t a particularly effective remedy…) , and the course looked considerably worse for wear, so they didn’t go out.  Because I ruined everything.

Still, Jez called me a legend, and I still got a medal, apparently.  I may give Mountain Mayhem a miss next year in favour of being Mr Toast’s pit bitch, as he’s considering going solo.  We’ll see!

And now, for your viewing pleasure, here are things that amused me in between the tears and the tantrums:

BEING OVERTAKEN BY TEAM SUMO (AGAIN)!

 

 

 

BEING OVERTAKEN BY UNICYCLISTS (AGAIN)!

 

 Admittedly, it was a teammate (I’m assuming) of the chap above.  He passed me on the way up to the Obelisk, and gave me a liquorice allsort and words of encouragement.  Good lad.

BEING OVERTAKEN BY TEAM ISLABIKE…TWICE!

 

 This was a new one.  Ridiculously speedy on a tiny Islabike, although they did have the advantage in the unrideable sections in that they could pick up their ride and swing it about their head if they so desired.

 

This poor sod totalled his bike fairly early on, with the rear mech being pulled into his wheel.  OK, this one was more amusing when we first saw him in the sheep field, with the sheep scattering away and bleating.  It was a fairly random sight.  Slightly less amusing when we realised it was because he was completely out of the race less than two hours into it.

Also nice was the small child who high fived me and gave me a Pringle, the random dude singing “Country Road”, the guy who helped me onto more solid ground on the off-camber section, the chap who offered me his lights (before realising we had no way of attaching it).  Here’s to you, Mountain Mayhemers.

 

 

lolwhut?

My last post was in May? IN MAY? My mother was right, hit 30 and time flies.  FLIIIIIEEES.

Anyhoo, over the past few weeks I’ve celebrated a birthday, been to a wedding, been around the blue and the red at the Forest of Dean, been around the full red at Dalby, and I’ve visited Cannock Chase a few times, including doing two laps in under two hours.  A more detailed description of this exploits (with photos and an updated Map of Joy…) will have to wait, however, as tomorrow is Mountain Mayhem.

Bloody hell. :/

13/05/12: Well hello, Captain Speedy

Sorry about the title, but I thought it’d give me an ideal opportunity to publically state how much I hate BT’s new advertising campaign.  I thought the last one was odious enough, but the current one makes me want to throw things at the TV.  Large, heavy things.  It’s like their marketing department is actively trying to annoy me.

Dangerously back on topic, last weekend I rode Follow the Dog twice.  I was toying with the idea of the Monkey, but decided that I just wanted to relax and have fun.  It was sunny, surprisingly dry, and I was going at a good pace (for me), so I decided to see if I could get a good lap time in.  First lap clocked in at around 55 minutes, although I could have shaved another couple off if there hadn’t been congestion at Werewolf Drop.  I overtook seven people, and was only overtaken by one.  This is either a sign of great progress, or a sign that the trails were surprisingly quiet.

I actually found the fireroad hill a bit more of a slog than usual, quickly going into granny ring.  I think I’ve said it before, but I think I find it much harder when it’s dry.  In a way it might have been a blessing, as my knees weren’t quite as knackered as when I try and push it in middle ring.  Still makes me nervous for Mountain Mayhem, as it’s considerably more climby and hilly.

Amusingly, I lowered my forks to 100mm for the climb, then promptly forgot to raise them back to 12omm for the rest of the trail.  Cornering seemed very nice, not sure if that was down to the fork travel or down to just having a good day.

Ended up back at Swinnertons and chatted to some of the Chase Trails chaps for a bit before setting out for my second lap.  By the time I got to section 9 I started to feel knackered, and the lap as a whole felt a lot slower – slower on the section itself, more pulling over to let people by, and longer drink breaks at the end of the sections.  Despite that, I still came in at just under one hour five minutes, so I was quite pleased, and also a bit surprised.

I managed to ride the switchbacks before Werewolf both times, so that’s a definite improvement.

Rather alarmingly, a bike was nicked from Birches Valley the same day – this is always a worry of mine, as when I ride alone I have to leave my bike unattended if I want to go to the loo.  You know Freud banged on about Penis Envy?  That’s why – no practical way of relieving yourself in a neat and tidy manner, even She Wees have horror stories.

ANYHOO, I always lock up my bike to a nearby fence, but I still worry that some scrote could cut the lock and nab the bike fairly swiftly.  Fortunately, thanks to a combination of suspicious locals and hardy northern folk, one scrote was thwarted in his efforts.  Despite evidently spending hours (Mr Toast had seen him the previous day and thought he looked a bit dodgy) scoping out bikes, he decided to nick one belonging to a group of 20 odd riders.  So if you see this chap:

…remember to congratulate him on his awesome decision making skills.  Whilst holding onto your bike, obviously.

So that’s one less thief, but it’s unclear as to whether his Astra-driving mate was caught – if he’s part of a gang, then people should still be vigilant.  Well, you should be vigilant anyway – bikes are more than just a possession to most of our kind.  They’re our pride and joy, providing us with thrills and fitness whilst allowing us to explore the great outdoors… or just go around trail centres repeatedly.  It’s all good.  Don’t let a scrote take that away, or at the very least, don’t make it easy for them.  Lock it up!

That there Monkey

I’ve been a bit slack on the blogging front lately, although that’s also down to the fact I’ve been a bit slack on the biking front too.  I’ve been biking into work on a daily basis, often even when it’s pissing it down, but I’ve found it hard to get out at the weekends.  Partly down to feeling a bit off, and partly down to family commitments.  This time of year is always a bit miserable for me as it’s the time of year when my dad died, and the weather – not helping.

I really want to get across the country – I want to hit Coed-Y-Brenin, Llandegla, Nant-yr-Arian, the Peak District, the Forest of Dean… but it’s a bit hard to muster the enthusiasm for a six hour round trip when it’s cold and wet.   We were hoping for some long weekends, but Mr Toast is finding it hard to even get the odd Friday off with his current workload.  We’ve not even managed our usual Easter trip  Ooop North to Dalby. 🙁

My knee has been playing up a bit again, so I’m off to see the doctor about whether a knee brace would be beneficial.  I quite like the look of the pricey but awesome Asterisk Knee Braces – supposedly good for people with ligament issues, looks very adjustable and doubles up as armour.  I’m just a bit reluctant to make the investment without knowing whether it’s definitely suitable for my knee injury, and what if they’re too heavy or uncomfortable for me?

I can tell that Mountain Mayhem is coming ever closer, as on Saturday night I had my first MM Anxiety Dream of the year.  I dreamt that I was riding, soaking wet under torrential rain, struggling in the mud and hating every second of it.  So, not so much a dream, more of a reminiscence.  I’m hoping my mother’s theory of weather proves true – “We’ve got to have a good summer!  We’re owed some good weather!”

On the plus side, what little off-road riding I’ve done lately has been moderately successful. For a start…

The Monkey!

Yes, it’s been well over a year since I’d ridden the Monkey, but I finally plucked up the courage to give it a go last month.  Despite my unfamiliarity with The Monkey (I’d only ridden it something like five times previously), it went better than expected.  My fitness was better than it has been in the past, and I wasn’t lying on the floor screaming with painful leg cramps, so that was a definite improvement.  My knees were objecting quite violently to the steeper climbs, and I had to stop to let the pain lessen a few times, and also probably took far more ibuprofen than is recommended.

I gave a few of the trail features a miss – I decided not to test my 50% success score on the pre-Klondike rocks, and also gave Woodbank a miss.  I was going to do it – I went to have a look, thought, “Oh, it looks easier than the start of section two”, and let a group pass.  The last fella in the group then prompty completely ballsed up, clipping his right handlebar grip on the tree and twisting his front wheel, sending him crashing in spectacular fashion.

Yeah, I’ll give that one a miss for today.

I also pretty much walked most of the Monkey-section of the Monkey.  This is probably going to sound a bit harsh, but it’s probably my least-liked bit of trail I’ve ever ridden in any trail centre.  It leaves me miserable and demoralised, with its stupid narrow trees and rock gardens, and I struggle to think of any part of it I actually like.  OK, I did have a brief moment of confidence boosting when I looked at the second rock garden, the only one I’ve ever ridden, and marvelled that I’d ridden that.  Admittedly it was before there was a huge gouge ripped down the right hand side, but still.

Being a bit of a pessimist though, that thought was soon crushed by the knowledge that there was no way I’d ride that again. The day that I rode that I’d been having a particularly good day, taking lots of risks that paid off… until I came off on the fireroad, stripped off a good bit of skin, broke my helmet and ended up on a heavy course of antibiotics.  I still bear the scars.   Pfft.  Be an overly cautious coward and live to ride another day, that’s what I say!

Went out on Saturday for the first time in weeks and rode the Dog.  Despite the good conditions, I ended up going a bit slower than usual, clocking in at one hour ten minutes – although I think a good five minutes of that was trying to wrestle my thermal jacket into my Camelbak.

Hoping to get out with increased frequency before Mountain Mayhem.  I need to improve my fitness, try and get my knees more used to climbing, and, my personal favourite, also have to get Benny used to camping… or its going to be a very, very tiring weekend.