Retroactive update ahoy! From post-Scotland…
Map of Joy: Volume III, Update II
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Sleepless in the Saddle: Hit the lights
This year saw my first ever mountain bike race. It also saw my second – as previously mentioned, in a fit of madness, I’d volunteered my services for Sleepless in the Saddle.Sleepless is a little different from Mountain Mayhem. For a start, the maximum team size is five, rather than ten. It also a bit smaller, and quite a bit less hilly. I loved it.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed Mayhem, and fully intend to do it again next year, but I found the course was there to be endured rather than enjoyed. Sleepless’ course was swift, swoopy, and bloody good fun! It started well with me actually sleeping on the Friday. My teammates commented on the marked difference between my cheery disposition on the Saturday morning, compared to my surly and possibly nearly murderous demeanour on the first day of Mountain Mayhem.
I was up fourth for our team, the noble Chase Trails Pixies. We had wings and everything.
It was about 5-ish when I started my first lap, I think, and although it had been sunny all day it was starting to cloud over. With some warnings about loose corners fresh in my mind, I set off into the unknown. Generally I got on very well with the course – the climbs were relatively short, the descents not too gnarly, and the singletrack tight and fluid. There were a few rooty corners that caused me a bit off grief, and I nearly had a comedy moment on a sharp turn after a descent, but otherwise I could ride it quite merrily.The only other issues I had on the first lap were a couple of Elite Riders barging past me,the one forcing his way in front just as I approached the triple down, causing me to brake right on the edge. I stood at the edge, rolled back a little, then rolled down. It was a slope, really nowhere near as harsh as the ones at Mayhem. Yay!
The other issue was the weather – I was a good way around and on one of the later climbs up a field when the heavens opened. I muttered darkly, wondering what I’d done to upset the god of 24 hour racing. The last woody section was a bit slimy and began to remind me of Mountain Mayhem. I approached the end soaking and a little bit narked, failing to get around the uppy downy hairpin bit – given it was a bit slidey I was worried about bombing down the slopes to catapault myself up the next. Truth be told, I’ve been slightly worried about these sorts of things ever since my spectacular off last year under similar circumstances, so I tend to take them more cautiously, and not quite make it up the other side as a result. Small children mocked my inability to reach the top. “Mommy, mommy, why did she stop?”
As I rolled over the line to complete my first lap, I began to feel slightly anxious about my impending night lap. This unease wasn’t helped by both Liam (my Pixie successor) and Mr Toast (racing his second lap for the Chase Trail Trolls) posting mammoth times – the mud had turned severely claggy, and was blocking forks, mechs, chainstays, and was generally a pain in the arse.
After setting up my lights, I grabbed a couple of hours sleep, and woke at midnight to Mr Toast having a mild rant about me misplacing lights. Suddenly the cold, harsh reality that I was about to do my first ever night ride, on an unfamiliar course, and probably a massive mud bath. I took it with my usual stoicism, and promptly started weeping quietly in our tent.
I was cheered slightly by the reassurances that it had dried up a lot, and was actually riding quite nicely. I also have to give massive thanks to the Clan Pearson, who had the foresight to bring spare gloves – mine still hadn’t dried from my first lap!Abby came in, and off I went. I wiggled the lights around, trying to get the optimum coverage. I had my one and only off of the race on one of the earlier woody sections, as I swooped into it and promptly fell sideways after hitting a root. As I rode, I realised that night riding didn’t mean imminent death. It wasn’t only doable. It was actually… Fun!
Riders seemed to be a bit more aggressive and surly at night, and I spent even more time than usual pulled over letting people past – I was being a bit more cautious on that front. However, when I was riding it felt as if I was going faster, and I felt a bit more confident as I knew what to expect from the first lap. I did have to strip a few layers, which was a decidedly surreal experience: It’s one in the morning, I’m riding my bike in a race, I’m on the top of a hill, I’ve got a light strapped to my head, I’m taking off a couple of tops, and other riders are passing comment on my wings.I passed the baton to Liam, grinning and telling him how awesome the course was riding – my dreaded night lap had actually been far more entertaining than my first lap, down to being drier and knowing what the course actually involved. And then it was off to bed, trying not shine the torch in the face of the snoozing Mr Toast.
I awoke later in the morning to blue skies and sun, ready for porridge and my third lap. Given that we were all getting a bit knackered by this point, we were instructed to take our time getting around, so the earlier riders wouldn’t be forced into doing additional laps. So although I went as speedily as I could through the singletrack sections, I did my team proud by doing the climbs very… very… slowly. And stopping on hills, admiring the view. It was a tough job, but somehow I managed it. I still came in faster than I expected – I honestly thought I’d taken at least two hours – it was my longest lap though.
I finished my lap and then had the best. Shower. Ever. I’d take this opportunity to post a picture of me riding triumphantly, but, as with Mountain Mayhem, I managed to avoid every single race photographer. So, here’s the Professor:
All in all a huge amount of fun though – a great atmosphere with most people being patient, encouraging and friendly (and the wings got a lot of comments), and obviously awesome teammates. Good to see some of the other teams there too, including the Grimey Limeys and the Swinnertons. Also, lots of awesome dogs – the sausage dogs being a particular favourite. I’m hoping that next year I’ll be a bit fitter and better at climbs, and generally faster. Best start training!
Three Years!
Yes, a horribly late update again, I know!
Last month for our anniversary we went, as always, to Scotland. Every year is good fun, but this year was particularly entertaining as my fitness is the highest its ever been. It really does make a huge difference, and this time around we ended up riding every day. I was quite chuffed because I rode a lot of stuff at Glentress Ive normally chickened out of on previous years mainly the rocky obstacles and some of the skinnies on the climb up and er, the red route. Im pleased to report that this year I didnt fall off once although I was very cautious on Pennels Vennel this time around!
The first two days had fairly atrocious weather, and both bikes and riders got absolutely filthy. I stuck to the blue route these first two days, which is still ridiculously fast and grippy in the wet. I was chuffed to see the Trail Fairies have replaced the downhill fireroad to the Buzzards Nest car park with a new section Berm Baby Berm. Or Berm Bermy Berm, as I misheard Mr Toast call it, and thus it was renamed. Berm Bermy Berm is very bermy. You know that bit in Spaceballs, where they talk about going ludicrous speed, and the star field turns to tartan? It was a bit like that. We also spent a bit of time on the skills course, which unlike the rest of the trails at Glentress actually seems to be losing features the bumpy northshore section is gone, along with the rock spanning skinnies. Still, I actually rode down the rocks on the skills course that have freaked me out in previous years, so that was nice.
After flying around the blue for the first two days I decided to have another crack at the red. Long time readers (assuming I have any) will know that I last rode the full red two years ago. Last years attempt, the first time Id tried it in the wet, ended in disaster on the first section. This time I was a lot more confident, managing to tackle stuff quite easily and never feeling like I was out of control. I was also more cautious, however if there was anything I didnt fancy, Id walk it. For me its a much better approach than riding it and falling off Id prefer to be able to ride again. Being over 300 miles from home and the only driver always weighs a bit on my mind, as does the fact that my offs last year left me a bit battered and struggling to ride comfortably for the rest of the holiday.
The red at Glentress is interesting, because again for the most part its all about speed. Theres a few climbs, but for the most part the main thing you take away from it is the blazing descents. Unfortunately I did still have a few knee problems on holiday, most of which could be ignored or cancelled out by copious amounts of ibuprofen. More of a problem this time around was a recurring burning pain in my left thigh, I think in the Vastus lateralis muscle. It was fine when I was in the saddle, but boy did it smart if I spent any time out of the saddle needless to say, this made some of the downhill sections quite interesting, particularly Spooky Wood! I dont know whether it was just strain from doing so much biking compared to what I normally do, or whether my saddle was at a slightly iffy height, but it doesnt seem to be a problem at the moment so meh!
Despite the slight inability to ride with 100% correct positioning, Spooky Wood was bloody good fun, and I avoided the chicken runs for the most part and flew off the features mainly because I was going too fast to actually think about it. I admit I walked down what we dubbed Handstand Hill, due to the fact Id well, gone headfirst over the bars and ended up walking on my hands two years earlier. Whilst most of Glentress red looked friendlier and less terrifying than I remembered, Handstand Hill actually looked worse. I felt awesome on some of the later sections as I manoeuvred around roots and tighter turns, which reminded me a bit more of Cannock Chase. I came out of the bottom of the red and said, Oh, it that it?, which made Toast chuckle when Id done the red two years previously I was pretty much dead halfway round.
Due to the leg pain Id been having around the red route, we decided to have a day off riding. We went to Kailzie Gardens (go see the Chicken Village there, its great, especially the goth chickens), then I dragged Mr Toast to see X-Men First Class (which Id been wanting to see for weeks but wed not got around to it great film which makes surprisingly good use of Azazel, given he was created for the universally loathed Chuck Austen Uncanny X-Men run). We came out of the cinema and the sun was blazing again our first sunny day of the holiday. Well, it would have been rude not to have an evening ride, wouldnt you agree? We spent a few hours on the freeride park, appreciating the ability to be gnar in the dry.
The following day we decided to try one of the other Stanes. The original plan was to go to Kirroughtree, but given the distance, the cost of petrol and our lack of money we elected to try Mabie instead.
Mabie wasnt too bad the skills course and freeride is a bit sparse, and the trail is fairly bland and has a lot of climbing. It does have some really good fun sections though, its just a shame they all seem to be in the first third of the trail. It may have been because my legs were distinctly tender by this point in the week, but Mabie didnt really make me want to return any time soon it just seemed like a lot of long climbs with unsatisfying descents. It did have a nice Stane though:
I think Mabie has a lot of off-piste stuff though, so itd probably be worth an explore or getting someone with local knowledge to act as a guide. It also has a field of cows that stare at you accusingly as you eat Shed Burgers.
Im hoping we get to go to Kirroughtree next year, hopefully it wont be too far above my skill level.
Mountain Mudhem
So, this month saw my race debut. In short, it was awesome. In long…
Things didn’t start out too well. I’d managed to miss the important travel news on the Mountain Mayhem website concerning the M50, so we set off blissfully oblivious, guided by the GPS. We were supposed t0 get off at junction 2, but junction 2 was closed. Instead we had a 15 mile diversion as we headed to junction 3, then had to loop back down the M50. This, combined with the grim skies ,made me somewhat cranky.
We found the Chase Trails camp, waited for the rain to stop, and set up our home away from home.
Confession time: I’m not a huge fan of camping. And as we settled down in our freezing tent (yes, it was freezing in June), my slight apathy towards camping turned into full blown loathing. I didn’t actually sleep that night. That’s not an exaggeration – I literally couldn’t sleep as I was so cold. Fortunately I managed to get a couple of hours of sleep on the Saturday morning once the sun had risen and Toast gave me his sleeping bag to go over my own. I woke up still sleep deprived, aching, and soon added ‘screaming’ to that as I found an earwig in my sportsbra. No, camping wasn’t growing on me.
It was hard to be too grumpy though – the atmosphere at Mountain Mayhem is fantastic, and anybody complaining about the toilets or the catering really needs to go to a music festival. I once paid £4.80 for an ice-cream at Donington one year… and not recently either. We pottered about for a bit, then went to cheer on Andrew, who would be starting the 24 hour race for our team. Rather cruelly, Mountain Mayhem starts with a rather long run before the competitors can get on their bikes. Fortunately it’s just the first riders in the teams that have to do this, so once Andrew had finished his (rather respectable) lap, it was Petra’s turn. The weather turned a bit iffy, and she was treated to a few downpours. Meanwhile, I grabbed something to eat and waited for my turn.
I started to feel faintly nauseous. I had that weird, cold hollow feeling you get from not having slept properly, but more concerning were the PA announcements. Apparently Oliver wouldn’t be returning to the course, because he’d been hospitalised.. People were going too fast and having accidents, so could people please slow down… There’d been a broken collarbone and a broken ankle.
This was less than four hours into the race!
Petra came in slightly worse for wear, and I was off like a speeding gudgeon! To celebrate my race debut, the heavens promptly opened and started pissing it down. I was in the timed Kenda Climb, where I did a mighty 1 minute 24 seconds – not the slowest, I checked. And I would have been at least a second faster if I hadn’t have slowed down to high five those meddling kids! By this point I was soaked through, with my sodden 3/4 clinging to my knees and making movement even harder.
The course was… awkward. 10.3 miles long, with 1400ft of climbing. What made it hard was a combination of the mud and other riders. The first bit of singletrack was fairly short and easy, and I smugly dropped over a rooty step with ease as other riders dismounted or tried ridiculously convoluted lines around it. It was still fairly hairy though just for the sheer pressure of other riders shouting that they were passing. The next singletrack section had a particularly slimey descent – I’d say the majority of riders I saw here dismounted. A few rode it, one not entirely successfully, but, I along with the majority, gingerly minced our way down, slipping and sliding, holding the trees for support.
So it carried on – the subsequent sections of singletrack were quite a bit easier, and it was here I felt most comfortable and confident. I still got overtaken on occasion, but generally could keep up with people. Unfortunately that left the rest of the course – long climbs and straight, rutted descents. Some of the climbs were an absolute nightmare – again, because of the mud. It was like walking the wrong way up a escalator – soft, sludgy and plasticine-like mud took away a lot of grip and sapped my energy. And the descents… let’s just say I walked a couple, went down one dabbing my foot on the side, and rode 90% before practicing some ‘EXTREME RESTING’ on the side of the track, accompanied by my now obligatory yelp. It’s kind of a cross between a Wilhelm Scream and the cry of a startled guinea pig. I’ve gotten quite good at falling off, however, and my first reaction was to pull the Professor off the track before checking to see if we were both OK. One rider asked me if I was OK, and sped onwards after he surmised that I wasn’t dead. The next rider, seeing myself in the popular EXTREME RESTING pose of ‘upside down in some ferns and brambles’ said, “Get up, love” – which may have been cheery encouragement, but sounded like sneering condescension. Admittedly, it’s a bit hard to tell when you’ve got a face full of bracken.
I stood up, located a source of bleeding (one small scratch on my elbow), decided that it had been a splendid adventure and it was now time to continue. As I checked the Professor, I heard and saw two more riders fall on the same descent (not near my, I was totally off the course at that point!). Looking through Rob Crayton’s photographs revealed more comedy dismounts on the same hill. In hindsight, it made me feel a lot better.
At the time though, I was starting to feel decidedly stroppy. I was soaked through, my back wheel was sliding through mud like a crazed weasel (note to self: when husband says, “We should put a mud tyre on the back”, listen to him), I’d fallen off, I’d run out of water, and to add insult to injury, I thought I’d unexpectedly finished far sooner than I’d thought, when in fact the major climb was still to come.
As I passed through the arena again I passed some of my teammates, who shouted encouragement at me. This spurred me on, and I decided I wouldn’t have a breather… where they could see me. I carried on up the hill, went around the corner and prepared to stop… and a random spectator shouted more cheery encouragement at me. Bugger! Will have to carry on!
The climb up to the obelisk has some amazing views, and by this point the sun had finally decided to make an appearance. I promptly stopped along with the other people faking mechanicals to take a breather.
“My saddle! Yes, it’s a saddle. It’s got a quick release lever… yes, it still works. Oooh, I can make my saddle go up and down. If I look really intense, people will never know that I’m skiving!”
“I’ll turn my bike upside down, no-one will question me!”
My fake mechanical was poking the small island’s worth of mud and grass that had accumulated around my mechs. I mastered the art of looking stern and professional whilst discreetly admiring the view and waiting for my legs to stop screaming. I feel this might be an important lesson to learn.
My lap was nearly over. I’d been overtaken by singlespeeding charity racers in sumo suits and, the ultimate insult… by a unicyclist.
As I rode through the stadium again, random strangers shouting encouragment and asking for high fives (hello again, kids!), I suddenly switched from “Gah, this is the worst idea ever, I’m never doing this again!” to “THIS IS AWESOME LOOK AT MY RIDE TO GLOOOORRRRY!” I spotted Mr Toast and Jez, who were cheering me on (I think, they could have been saying anything at this point), so I sped up, overtook a couple of riders and handed the baton onto Julien. My lap was done, and it was time for water, flapjacks and rocky roads.
I’m not entirely sure what I did at that point, but I know I was there to cheer Julien in and cheer Mr Toast out. Well, I say ‘cheer Julien in’, what I actually mean is he shouted, “I’m never riding a bike again”, to which I yelled, “LE PETIT ESCARGOT!”, which I learned from Charlotte and Jessica. Toast went out, and I escorted Julien back to the camp.
I think I managed to get a shower during Mr Toast’s lap. Mountain Mayhem has many fine points, including the abundant supply of free shower gel:
The showers, however, were rubbish. Allow me to demonstrate the showers with this handy timeline and the use of emoticons.
0 seconds: Button pressed. Dribble of water falls out of the showerhead -_-
4 seconds: Dribble of water turns into a full strength blast of water. Cold water. O_O
7 seconds: The water is still cold. Q_Q
9 seconds: Wait… is it getting warmer? :/
13 seconds: It’s warm! 😀
15 seconds: It’s stopped. Press the button again. Repeat. -_-
It was remarkably like being in a Skinner Box, as I tried to uncover what behaviour would give me access to more than 2 seconds of hot water. Press the button repeatedly? No, that just leaves it in the dribble state. Leave it for a bit before pressing it? No. No wonder the showers had sizable queues! 😛
It was now pretty much dark as Jez and I made our way to the arena to cheer in Mr Toast. Unfortunately Mr Toast had got in ten minutes earlier and was grumpily waiting as he was heckled by fellow riders for being a billy-no-mates. Jez yelled, “I’M COMING, AL!”, and the passover was completed, with Al taking comfort that at least the ten minutes had been added onto the start of Jez’s time rather than the end of his own. Not that he’s competitive or owt, you understand.
It was now the turn of the mentalist night riding contingent, and time for me to get some sleep. I’d learned some lessons from the previous night – before we had been lying directly on the groundsheet, but we did actually have a sleeping mat. That came out, and the spare towels were used as a pillow. I also wore an Iron Maiden t-shirt and hoodie in addition to my thermal baselayer, socks and tracksuit bottoms combo. I slept like a rock, and when I awoke to a sunny Sunday morning I decided camping really wasn’t that bad after all. In fact, I think I could do a second lap!
Toast woke up bleary eyed and de-hydrated, and was nominated to do the next lap after Liam. After riding up to the arena in my jeans and feeling decidedly creaky, I surmised that perhaps that second lap of mine wasn’t such a good idea. Eating rocky roads and a bacon sandwich though… that’s a GREAT idea!
After Mr Toast plucky youngster Mini-Bave(TM) went out and rode our fastest laptime – 1 hour 8 minutes. Yes, he did it in less than half the time it took me to get around. D’oh. Ian was nearly our last rider, but after it was communicated to him that Dave wanted to do another lap, he raced over the line and passed the baton with 3 minutes to spare. And off Dave went!
There was unintentional hilarity after the announcer started the end of race countdown a minute early, with many racers speeding up, thinking that they’d be passing the line just after the 24. The mistake was realised and the announcer was yelling at the racers that he’d cocked up, and they slowed t0 a snail’s pace (or in some cases stopped completely). Once the clock hit 24 hours, Pat Adams started shaking the hands of each finishing racer as they passed the line.
We watched the time and tried to calculate when Dave would be passing certain spots to offer him encouragement. We missed him going up through the arena, but got him on the way down. As he passed by, he shouted, “I CAN’T STRAIGHTEN MY LEGS, CRAMP!” and continued speeding down the hill.
All there was left to do was to collect our medals and watch Jessica as she ‘acquired’ some Mountain Mayhem banners.
I’m very pleased with my medal. As a child, I loved the Olympics. OK, I mainly loved it because they’d show the Animalympics cartoon, but I loved the idea of people doing well and getting medals. Sadly I was a spectacularly inept child when it came to sports – timid, lacking in confidence, and never really getting involved. I never even got participation medals, although I did get merit points for being the only girl in Clive house in my year who would a) do the 15oom run, and b) the front crawl in the Swimming Medley. But it’s not the same as having a medal. It’s made of metal and everything!
Fortunately I managed to resist the urge to wear it constantly for the following week.
So, a very memorable and enjoyable weekend (not the bit with the earwig though). I raced the same course as Liam Killeen and Guy Martin (“By ‘eck, chief!”), I didn’t break anything, and I wasn’t the slowest. I decided that I would definitely do Mountain Mayhem next year.
And Sleepless in the Saddle this August.
EEK!
The horror! Or, Map of Joy: Volume III, Update I
I’ve been sadly remiss with my Map of Joy updates! This year I decided to take a different approach – rather than making a list of the places we were hoping to visit and ticking them off as we get there, I’ve gone for *drumroll*…
THE MYSTERIOUS MAP OF JOY!
Which is like the old Map of Joy, except we fill it out as we go along. It’s less of a crushing disappointment that way at the end of the year when we realise we haven’t managed to visit half of the places we were hoping to! Keeping on last year’s theme of slacking I’ve not actually posted this year’s yet, but in my defence we have had a lot on. Well, wait no longer!
OK, slightly overdone build up when it only has three locations on it, but look! A medal! From Mountain Mayhem! Over-excited blogpost to follow soon!
12/06/11: Mulberry Burst
Yesterday I did something a little different – a social ride with most of our Mountain Mayhem team. It was good fun for the most part – it was great seeing parts of the Chase that I don’t normally see, and riding new stuff. Had a few mishaps though – we rode a section that was quite loose and squishy. Not being used to riding non-surfaced stuff threw me off a little… but not as much as me yanking the front brake after doing a log drop. With a dramatic flourish and a scream worthy of Wilhelm, I lost control of the bike. Fortunately Jez was there to catch the screaming hobbity missile that was me, although I did manage to knock him over in the process. Strrriiiiike!
Second off was a bit later, again on a bit of a singletrack descent. The funny thing about natural stuff is that it’s often like a spider web, with lots of other tracks leading off it, and sometimes you can lose the track. Well, you might not, but I did. I was kind of in the middle of the pack, having lost the faster riders at the front and… er, holding up the faster riders behind me. I was sooooo close to the end, but couldn’t quite follow the track and…why, hello front brake! WE MEET AGAIN! Over the handlebars, face first. Into brambles. Managed to roll over, tangled in my bike, and Ian helped me up. I was whimpering, more pride hurt than anything else, particularly with the indignity that I was stuck like an upturned turtle and stuck in the brambles. Managed to remove most of the thorns from my person. Mr Toast finally found us, and said, “Oh, your face looked scratched! You know, like the scratches you get from brambles, but on your face!” To which I replied, “That’s because I just faceplanted in some brambles”.
“Oh!”
On the plus side, I rode a bombhole and did a little jump off the end – I’m informed I actually got air. On purpose! Really need to sort the panicking/front braking thing though- I think a good chunk of it was trying to keep up with people on unfamiliar turf.
We ended up at Milford, which brought back memories – the only time I’ve been to Milford previously is when I was doing GCSE geography something like 16 years ago. The Wimpy is still there, as is the Little Fawn cafe, which does really good chips. Unfortunately the weather had turned a bit sour at this point, and I was a bit sore and mardy. And, for the first time this year, I’d come out without my thermal. Bloody typical, for weeks I’ve been lugging it around as unneeded baggage, and the one time I needed it I didn’t have it!
Mr Toast and I headed back, and ended up at Tackeroo. Despite feeling exceptionally surly and sorry for myself, I forced myself to do the last section of Follow the Dog. It’s amazing how easy Follow the Dog seems after riding natural stuff, which is probably why everyone else has a lot more confidence.
Today I had a few interesting bruises and scratches, plus severe aches and pains. However, I think this might be partially down to my new gym routine that I started Friday. Well, if you’re going to beat yourself up, might as well do it properly!
Ride: Cannock Chase
Trail: Random stuff up to Milford, end of FtD
Highlights: FtD and a little more FtD. Actually trying stuff
Bad bits: Faceplanting
Post ride food snaffled: Chicken burger and chips, omnomnom.
Good dogs seen: There was a most excellent schnauzer, but the absolute best was a small jack russel riding with another rider. He was wearing a neckerchief. The jack russel, not the rider
04/06/11: I break for no-one!
This ride was quite a milestone for me, as it’s the first time since I started riding that I’ve done all of Follow the Dog without any rest stops. Yes, it’s taken me three years to get to this point, but I got there eventually. My riding was actually a bit off – I felt a little skittish and off-balance, and I felt slower than when I’m at my best, but that might have been down to not having my usual breaks around the fireroad hill.
After Follow the Dog I stopped at the cafe for tea and a cookie (ideal fitness nutrition…) then did some pootley fireroad. I decided to venture onto the old section 3, which is still rides remarkably well although it can be easy to lose the trail at times.
I’m going to keep trying to get around with no stops, as I think that will improve my fitness and lap times. Given that Mountain Mayhem is in two weeks it’s probably a bit late to be worrying about it, but better late than never!
Ride: Cannock Chase
Trail: Follow the Dog
Highlights: Doing FtD with no rest breaks
Bad bits: Being a bit inept
Post ride food snaffled: Cookie
Good dogs seen: Schnauzers, a spaniel and its pup
Update Ahoy!
Apologies for the lack of updates – there’s been a lot going on in Toast Towers. For a start, Toast Towers has relocated to Warwick. This has been deemed “A most excellent move”. 14 miles cut off the journey to the Chase, several quality takeaway establishments in delivery distance and access to super fast cable broadband. The biggest day to day change is that I no longer drive to work – I normally bike in on a daily basis now, or occasionally take the bus. This has done wonders for my fitness, plus I get to see ducklings every day, and sometimes baby moorhens. It’s impossible to go to work on a heavy heart when there’s little balls of fluff swimming about!
Mr Toast has also just fixed my PC, which has been playing up for months and becoming increasingly unstable. After a long process of elimination it eventually became clear that it was the heart of the PC itself that was giving out – the motherboard, the memory and the processor. To their credit, they were ten years old and have been overclocked for the past six, so they were retired in good grace. Now my PC is (touch wood) fully back up and running – a great relief, as it was impossible to use most of the Adobe Creative Suite programmes.
So, what have I been up to on the biking front this last month and a half? Well over Easter we went Ooop North to Mr Toast’s parents, enjoyed good company, silly dogs, excellent food and Dalby!
Dalby was interesting. The furthest I’ve ever biked in one day (that I can think of) was the Ladybower loop we did last year, which was 22 miles. Dalby is 24 miles. Despite my chronic lack of fitness (I hadn’t started biking in at this point), I decided that I was, for the first time ever, going to give the full red a punt. Fitness aside, I felt a warm glow of satisfaction as I began the initial climb up the shared blue and red. On previous years I’d struggled both with fitness and technique, but this year it wasn’t an issue at all. If nothing else, at least that was better!
Dalby is a curious track – most the difficulty comes from the length rather than any of the features. However there was the odd section that I walked – normally involving steep downhill gradients, loose stones and drops on corners. Most of it though – no problem. Mr Toast did have a problem, however – we were fairly early on in the ride when he stopped, frowned and said, “What the hell is that clicking?”
Whilst he investigated, I did what any dutiful wife would do and promptly starting taking photos of The Professor.
By the way, that knee pad hanging in the tree? Not mine. Not entirely sure how or why it got there, I can only assume that somebody is a massive tosser. Eventually Mr Toast’s investigations revealed that the thread had come off one of his pivot bolts. We decided to continue… cautiously.
I have to admit, by about two thirds of the way through, I was utterly shattered. Although the singletrack is generally fairly easy going, Dalby does have a lot of switchback and fireroad climbs. I definitely would have enjoyed it more if I had been a bit fitter – as it was, it quite often seemed as if there was a lot of excruitiating climbing with little payback. However, stubboness combined with encouragement from Mr Toast meant that I was going to see it through to the bitter end. I finished Dalby in a slightly delirious state, chuffed that I’d managed to ride that many miles, not pushed up a single hill and ridden some features I wouldn’t have dreamed off a year or two ago. And on return to Mr Toast’s parents’, there was a roast chicken dinner waiting for us. RESULT!
We returned to Dalby a few days later, Mr Toast’s broken Pitch meant that we were unable to take our planned excursion to the moors. Mr Toast was forced to hire…
A Kona Fire Mountain! The only hire bike big enough for Mr Toast was slightly battered, but with a bit of tweaking he managed to get the gears running smoothly. He cursed slightly, and I was forced to giggle – when we’ve been to Dalby in the past, he’s been the one on the fancy pants full susser and I was the one stuck on the hired hardtail. However, something happened as he got used to the bike. He started to like it. It had been some time since he’d ridden a hardtail off-road, and the first time he’d ridden a bike that big (look at the seatpost! It almost looks sensible compared to the height of the handlebars!). Despite our initial plan of just exploring the fireroads, we ended up doing the last quarter of the red route. I chortled slightly as the hardtail was a great equaliser – it was much easier to keep up with him! I’m glad we did the last part of the red, as I’d been utterly wiped out when we’d got to it a couple of days earlier. It was nice to ride it relatively fresh.
So, that was Dalby.
We’ve been over the Chase most weekends, work allowing, and the past couple of weeks have seen a marked improvement from me. I’ve been able to get up the fireroad hill in middle ring, which sounds like such a stupid little thing it’s almost a non-event, but it’s something I’d not managed to do this year until very recently. The number of breaks I’ve been taking have also been getting shorter. In fact, today, the only time I stopped was at the start of the fireroad hill, to take off my thermal. Other than that, I refused to stop, moving from one section to the next. Thank you, daily commute!
Slightly panicking though as we’ve got Mountain Mayhem in less than three weeks, with Mr Toast frequently reminding me of the length of each lap and the greater degree of climbing. Still, what can possibly go wrong?
09/04/11: Getting there…
So, it was another lovely day, and back onto Follow the Dog again. I really need to get my fitness, strength and confidence up for June… and for myself, really. Mountain biking is so much more fun when you’re not about to throw up.
This day was a bit special because not only did I do Follow the Dog in reasonable time (about an hour… OK, section 11 is still out of commission, but we don’t talk about that), but I then did up to section 8, and still had energy at the end when I had to meet Mr Toast! I’m definitely rolling stuff with more confidence now, and I think I may have identified my cornering woes – on the Professor, I have a tendency to put my weight back whenever I’m out of the saddle, which is fine on descents… and also fine if I’m crouching down a little. What I’m actually doing is getting towards the back of the saddle, but still being quite upright – I think I need to make more of an effort to centre my weight more and get a little lower, it seems to make a massive difference (well, it feels like I’m going faster! :P)
I also had a pop at Messrs Root and Slab. Root I attempted on my second run of 7, and I cleared it with my front wheel easily. I put my feet down though – I think if I’d kept pedalling I could have made it. I didn’t exactly have the smoothest run into it though, my right foot had slipped off the pedal and I’d only just managed to get it back into position as I hit the root. Next week!
Evil Slab (nee Root) had me trying to take the left hand line – actually avoiding the slab and tackling the two roots that are there. Bottled it and put my feet down just before it though. -_-
Generally took everything a lot smoother this week and overtook quite a few people and didn’t get overtaken much – although given the weekend crowd, not really surprising! 😛 I even seemed to have a few occasions where people were using me as inspiration – including at the end of section 8 where a bloke was telling his son to how to roll the end and said, “See how she got her weight back and straightened her arms a bit”. Which was funny, as I actually took the exit a bit iffily and had my weight further forward than usual, but not enough to cock it up.
I love seeing a range of abilities on the trail, it’s inspiring to see where you came from to where you could get to. I love seeing little kids on their 20″ and 24″ wheels riding around FtD, enjoying the woods with their parents. I love seeing people in jeans on their Halfords specials – some struggling and having a borderline asthma attack as they light up their cigarettes at the top of eight, others casually rolling Werewolf Wolf (although I’d prefer it if they wore helmets…). I love seeing nutters going around Follow the Dog on jump bikes – who needs a comfortable ride or gears? I love seeing women with their blokes taking their first steps into mountain biking, trailing behind nervously as their menfolk leave them for dust. I love seeing women with their blokes leaving their blokes for dust. I love being overtaken by men that are twice my age and probably four times my fitness. I love seeing people on expensive bikes who are actually a bit rubbish, and realising that I fall into that category. There are so many people riding the trails, it’s great to see the variety and makes you realise there’s so much more to mountain biking – even just trail centre riding, on this one trail – than what’s presented in MBUK and the like. Long may it continue!
Ride: Cannock Chase
Trail: Follow the Dog
Highlights: FtD and a little more FtD. Actually trying stuff
Bad bits: Trying and not succeeding
Post ride food snaffled: Bacon sarnie. On brown bread. IT’S HEALTHY.
Good dogs seen: Well, I actually thought today was going to be a bit of a bust – two overweight labradors and a Chinese Crested Hairless Dog. Which OK, the latter is exotic, but… good? Pushing it a bit. Fortunately the day was saved by a last minute labradoodle, a minature schnauzer, and a very small jack russell wearing a muzzle. Small, but deadly.
02/04/11: Follow the Dads
So this fine Saturday was the day I finally decided to bite the bullet and hit Follow the Dog in its entirety. If you’ve been reading previous entires you’ll know that my red route riding since the end of November has been limited to the start and end sections of FtD whilst I get back into the swing of things. And oh my, how I did swing! Took it fairly steady, and it was very, very busy – there were a few breaks between sections which were longer than I needed as I was waiting on groups of people to pass, or giving families a headstart, but even still I clocked in at a not entirely terrible 1 hour 15.
I’d been putting off the Steg for a while because I am still a glorious mincer in matters of the rocky steps on corners going onto a bridge variety. But I did it no problems – oddly it’s no longer the turn on the rocks that bothers me, but the fear I’ll go Benny Hilling off the right hand side of the bridge after clearing the rocks. Hasn’t happened yet, so fingers crossed! I marvelled at the end of section 6, which was previously almost completely flat, but now resembles a pump track for tiny, tiny people. Remember kids, go through the puddles, not around them!
Had no problems with section 7 other than Evil Root Number One, although I automatically hopped off before I even looked at it. Having looked at it, I could swear that it’s not actually as bad as I remembered it being, as if the front had been filled in a little. The climb up to 8 felt a little more tiring than the week before on the Fuel, but I think that’s more down to having done more sections beforehand. 8 was good fun, although by the climb out of it I felt like I’d been kicked by a particularly ill-tempered donkey.
9 and 10 were nice and fast, although I nearly came a cropper on the bowl berm. I noticed overall that I was still feeling a little unbalanced on corners compared to the Fuel, which was slightly disconcerting. I still went at a decent clip though. Went into 12 fully intending to conquer the Evil Slab (nee Evil Root Number Two), but it looked far bigger than it had in the photos. With Evil Root Number Two, I could plough into it with no ability or finesse whatsoever – the replacement actually requires a modicum of skill. Curses!
The Tackaroo section was good fun as always, although I still can’t ride the bloody switchbacks into Werewolf Drop, never mind Werewolf Drop. Werewolf Drop is a proper collection of my nemesiseseses…nemesi…nemesises… er, riding issues.
A 90 DEGREE TURN INTO THE FEATURE! I still struggle on tight berms and switchbacks (see The Monkey for details), so having a sharp zig zag leading into a right hand turn doesn’t come naturally to me.
NARROW TREES! OK, I can cope with narrow trees – I’m quite small and don’t have the Harley Davidson handlebars that are all the rage. I can go through the trees through the bridge onto the rocks on that one section of The Monkey. But that’s approaching from pretty much straight on! That’s different!
A DROP…SLOPE… THING! The drop itself doesn’t actually bother me that much. OK, it took me two years to ride the exit to 8, but I don’t think Werewolf is actually that much steeper, and looks perfectly doable if you just keep your weight back and speed down a little. But then….
A 90 DEGREE TURN AT THE BOTTOM! Turning! Bloody steering! The humanity of it all!
For a lot of people, this agonising will be completely baffling. They don’t even register Werewolf Drop as a hazard, dismiss it as a slope, etc. And looking at it rationally, I know I can ride it. I’ve seen people on Halfords specials wobbling down it with their brakes fully on and clearing it. But this is my problem – what if? Here, allow me to illustrate my thought process as I ride towards Werewolf Drop:
A lot of the time I’ll assume that at some point I’ll royally balls up and either damage the Professor, myself, or even worse, make a complete tit of myself in front of an audience. So… I get off the bike and walk down. 🙁
Rest of Tackaroo is riding nicely, although I swear those two drops before the rollers are getting bigger, especially the first one! I’ve also taken to riding the stumps right before the rollers – not managed to get air yet, but I’ve also not fallen off. Woot!
Sunday was Mothers Day, and also the day of Mr Toast’s 1-2-1 skills course with Chase Skills that I sorted for him for Valentine’s Day. In the morning I went trailbuilding before having a meal with my mother – we worked on section 11, resurfacing the most damaged areas of the trail. I put my feeble upper body strength to as good use as I could and helped prepare the trail for the new material – for more information on trailbuilding, remember to take a peek at Chase Trails’ blog!
After trailbuilding and the Mothers Day meal, I went back to pick up Mr Toast. It’s quite alarming going through the carpark at the end of the day – blokes seem to completely drop their inhibitions, and next thing you know, you’re surrounded by naked buttocks and swinging genitalia. Gentlemen, is there any reason why you need to get changed in public, out of doors? Sweet Merciful Zeus, I had to get changed after trailbuilding, but I didn’t bloody do it in the carpark. I didn’t know where to look! WON’T SOMEBODY THINK OF THE CHILDREN?
Ride: Cannock Chase
Trail: Follow the Dog
Highlights: Doing Follow the Dog and not being utterly terrible. The beautiful sunshine. Trailbuilding.
Bad bits: Still cowardly and avoiding stuff instead of riding it
Post ride food snaffled: Bacon sarnie
Good dogs seen: A most excellent minature daschund and minature schauzer.