Forest Enduro Race Report
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| Sunday 26th September saw the 5th running of the Forest Of Dean Enduro.. an event organised by the local cycle club. It takes place over a 10 mile circuit and offers entrants the option of completing 1, 2 or 4 laps. I competed in the first two outings of the event, but getting married and then Callum being born meant the last two years weren’t feasible!. With no child imminently due (that I know of) I was free to give it another go. I opted for the two lap race.. one lap wasn’t enough to get into the swing and really enjoy the ride, four laps… well, that’s just wrong!. I knew from the run up that my fitness was not what I wanted it to be so my whole plan was to go, bimble round and have a laugh. This relaxed attitude continued right up to the start.. so much so that with only 10 minutes before the off I was stood behind my car getting changed. Arriving at the line with about 2 minutes to spare I pushed through the back markers (hey, I wasn’t competing but I didn’t want to be walking!) I made my way to Rex, just in front I spotted Ad. Chris, another friend and team mate in our annual pilgrimage to Mountain Mayhem was stood right at the front, competitive head well and truly on. At the gun the riders in front started moving.. I was off, I decide for some unknown reason to chase Ad down, he’s a bloody strong rider and historically always well ahead, I catch him about half a mile in and sit on his wheel through the first singletrack, up the first climb and then into the next swoopy section.. spat out onto a grassy climb I realise he is, as usual, too strong and slowly drop back. Something I struggle with is the idea of pacing, I don’t think I’ve quite got the mindset as yet to push constantly.. I either stand up on the pedals and blast or sit and spin. I clock this in my head as a development point to concentrate on over winter. The next few miles pass relatively incident free, I have the feeling that my initial burst had given me a cushion over Rex and the others I ride with, I knew Ad was gone, and Chris.. well, he was probably at home tucking into a bacon sarnie. At the top of the final long (and hugely fun) descent, Rex pulls level, I feel tired but he looks as fresh as before he started, I feel gutted, I must be going slower than I thought.. damn my fitness!!. For a few hundred metres of twisting trail I’m all over the lad in front, I ask him to move over several times but he doesn’t.. sticking doggedly to the centre of the trail even though it’s obvious I’m quicker.. I duck past in a rather foolish place and put the power down.. ..and then my chain falls off.. Rex slows but I tell him to go on, it’ll take me only a minute to sort out. In that minute of gravity assisted advantage he disappears, I jump on the bike, frustrated and suddenly in a place I don’t want to be. I never thought I was going to win the race but I’ve still got pride and this is my home turf. I feel my frustration grow, with that I start trying.. sounds silly, but trying too hard means you tense up, that leads to riding less fluidly and that leads to mistakes and ultimately crashes. Through the line and into the second lap, Kate is carrying a spare bottle for me and, when I meet her about 2 miles in, our exchange is littered (from me) with expletives.. fun level.. 0, frustration level.. spinal tap 11. Kate does her normal motivational magic on me and I head off, feeling uplifted somehow. I ride as hard as I can, apparently Rex is only a rider or two ahead, and Ad is the same ahead of him.. either we’re all struggling or my perceived level of how badly I’m doing is off. There must be something to this, I look behind and the people who were tailing me for the majority of the first lap are suddenly not there, indeed, I can now see a fresh group of riders ahead. Into the last half of the lap and I’m starting to ride more strongly, my head is back up and I’m not trying as hard. I have a tussle with a rider.. I catch him on the descents, but he pulls away on the climbs, I take an advantage of a mistake he makes entering a piece of narrow trail and get ahead, rounding the next bend I catch a glimpse of Ad’s unmistakeable riding top.. hhmm, this is interesting. Another quick glimpse and it’s obvious he’s hurting, I’ve never caught him on the trail so initial thoughts are that he’s injured somehow.. I’m always laughing at his rather unique riding style.. when he’s not on mountain bikes he’s caning motorbikes round racing circuits and I often think he’s missing that part of his brain that pushes images of injuries, sliding tyres and broken bones to the front of my mind whilst I’m riding at or near my limit. This means he’s quick, but does sometimes get it wrong. I pull level with him at the top of the final descent, sitting on his back wheel we have a shouted conversation, he’s cramping badly and it’s a credit to his tenacity that he’s still pedalling rather than get off to rest or walk. I pass and we nose to tail it the final mile or so, cresting the last climb (which Ad freely admits to hating) I lead by a gnats dangler, we drop into a final piece of singletrack and then onto the fire road and the last drag to the finish line.. our collected friends are hollering.. reaching the line I look back and see I’ve just pipped him. We laugh, shake hands and wearily make our way to our group. Turns out Chris was 7th.. Rex came in 9th, I’m 11th and Ad is 12th.. We’re all chuffed, but I’m in no doubt that had Ad ridden trouble free he’d have been one place behind Chris. You only fail at something if you don’t take some learning from it.. I’ve got a couple of lessons to take from this that I have no doubt will help in my planned events next year.. Firstly I need to work at pushing and pacing.. knowing myself and translating those feelings.. am I just a bit tired or am I about to fall over sideways? I need to enter every event like I did this one.. chilled in mind. Being relaxed helps, historically I worry if training doesn’t go to plan, I’m going to work on my mindset.. try to realise the world doesn’t end with a poor result.. there is always next time, at the end of the day, I want Callum to come watch his dad do stuff and do it with his head up, as long as I set a simple goal like beating last years placing I’ve won. I’ve also come to realise that everyone is different, Chris is and always will be, the lad to beat, he has the ability to give 110% 100% of the time, he crosses the line dead, on sunday he couldn’t talk and was shivering from exertion.. Ad is strong, also like Chris he can push to the point of self destruction, Rex is fit without training, simple as that.. me? I’m trying to think what I bring.. maybe the ability to come last but be happy for everyone else. In the end though, I did what I set out to, ride my bike and have a laugh and that’s what it’s really all about isn’t it? |
3 Peaks
We came.. we saw and we very nearly conquered.
I'm not really sure how to start this post about my weekend. Thoughts, emotions, memories.. all swirling in my head, vying for space.
I guess, therefore I should start at the start and go from there.. Leaving Beachley Station at 0900hrs Friday we started our long journey north and the start line for our 3 Peaks challenge. Sitting in a vehicle with two squaddies was always going to be humorous and the military banter flowed from the off. This being a charity event, we had a collection and this was quickly nominated as the swear box. Over the course of the weekend it collected a pretty hefty amount.. I threw in a couple of pounds straight away, just so I could be in credit.
The drive north took around 11 hours, I spent the time reading, listening to music and trying to gauge my words carefully enough so I could keep change in my pocket.. as the landscape outside the car windows changed from the flat southern countryside to the rugged moors and then the Highlands of Scotland, my focus shifted and I spent time staring out at the beauty which makes up that part of the world.
We finally made our stop for the night, a Youth Hostel nestling at the base of Ben Nevis, we wandered to the Restaurant a stones throw away to get some food. Not only was the food excellent and the conversation easy as is always the way when good friends are together, but the bar stocked and impressive range of single malt whiskies, much to the delight of our group.. we sampled, giggled and pretended it mattered whether the malt we each cradled was peaty, light or rich. What really counted though, was waiting on the opposite side of the road, looming over us in the dark and partly obscured by low cloud. Later, as I was standing outside talking on the phone to Kate, I watched the head torches of countless walkers, descending out of the cloud from the summit, seeing those dots of light clinging to the side of the mountain made me realise how small we were, and how big the challenge was.
Saturday was all about killing time until we could begin, finally we were ready and, standing at the footbridge waiting for 5 o'clock I got that familiar tightness in my belly, the apprehension of competition and of knowing the coming hours were about testing myself and not letting sponsors, friends and my team-mates down.
We climbed well and made the summit in just over 2 hours 15 minutes, this was the first time I've been to the area and the views got better with each turn, every one leaving me breathless in awe and reaching for my camera. As the team congregated at the cairn it was obvious we all felt strong and morale was good, descending in the dark, our group splintered though and myself and another member of the team missed the path leading to the Youth Hostel, a silly mistake, one I kicked myself for and one that could, in different situations have been very costly. As it was, it only added another couple of miles to our trip. Arriving back at the vehicles I was tired and grumpy for my carelessness, throwing off my kit I had hot food shoved into one hand and mug of steaming tea into the other, both were dealt with swiftly as the cars pulled away on the start of our 6 hour trip south toward the second climb.
Once I had sorted myself out (not an easy task in the confines of the back seat of a car) I dozed on and off, waking up as we pulled into the carpark at Wasdale. Torrential rain greeted us on the start of this, our second climb. It's not something that bothers me, I always find it easy to create my own comfortable world by pulling a hood up and switching my mind off, concentrating on only what I need to.. there is a stream crossing at the start of the climb, normally a small brook, this time, it was an angry roaring monster that we fought our way across and, not for the first time I gave silent thanks I was with a group I trusted implicitly.
Throughout our ascent we met walkers coming down, quickly passed conversations told us that most of them were turning back due to the weather.. spirits lifted somehow, we trudged on. The total climb (start to finish) is supposedly 5 hours, we took that to reach the top, visibility was around 20ft, the dawn was delayed by an hour, the rain didn't relent at all and several group members had complete sense of humour failures.. for some reason, I found myself sitting on a scree slope laughing.. why not? sulking wasn't going to make it sunny and I've done enough wet 24hr bike races to know how much energy can be wasted by complaining. We finally reached the summit but this time there was no posing for photos, we took shelter against the rising wind, got our bearings sorted out to find our way down, readjusted wet kit and headed home. I can honestly say that climb was the toughest thing I've ever done, I was beat, Scafell kicked my butt.. firstly on the way up, and then on the way down. I loved it though and was grinning like a mad-man as we reached the cars again. More hot food, more stripping off in a car-park. Wet kit into one bag, sort in another for remaining dry stuff, get into the car, and we're off.. now it's our time to dry off, sort out wet, blistered feet and prepare for our final challenge.
Pulling into a service station just before we hit Wales, we park next to a mini-bus.. It's full of fellow 3 peakers, one comes over with a T Shirt in hand.. anyone lost this on Ben Nevis?? It's mine... plastered in our Sponsors names, I had dropped it whilst descending, noticing too late to turn around and find it. I had been gutted, this was my souvenir of the trip, something I was going to wear with pride in future. wow.. I was so grateful to them....
They passed on bad news though, they had had word that Snowdon was shut, 80mph winds were being recorded on the summit, the mountain railway was shut and the peak had been evacuated for safety... confirming with our own call to the Mountain Warden we were all devastated, so close to success we had to, instead, head for home.
I'm not sure what else to say, the experience was incredible, tough times shared with good friends, laughs, practical jokes, discomfort, big scenery and the feeling that we were doing something pretty worthwhile. I still ache.. when I got home Sunday things like stairs were a bit too challenging, I can manage stairs now.. although I am walking like an old man. That's ok, feeling like this means I was pushed.. next time though, Snowdon had better watch out
I'm not really sure how to start this post about my weekend. Thoughts, emotions, memories.. all swirling in my head, vying for space.
I guess, therefore I should start at the start and go from there.. Leaving Beachley Station at 0900hrs Friday we started our long journey north and the start line for our 3 Peaks challenge. Sitting in a vehicle with two squaddies was always going to be humorous and the military banter flowed from the off. This being a charity event, we had a collection and this was quickly nominated as the swear box. Over the course of the weekend it collected a pretty hefty amount.. I threw in a couple of pounds straight away, just so I could be in credit.
The drive north took around 11 hours, I spent the time reading, listening to music and trying to gauge my words carefully enough so I could keep change in my pocket.. as the landscape outside the car windows changed from the flat southern countryside to the rugged moors and then the Highlands of Scotland, my focus shifted and I spent time staring out at the beauty which makes up that part of the world.
We finally made our stop for the night, a Youth Hostel nestling at the base of Ben Nevis, we wandered to the Restaurant a stones throw away to get some food. Not only was the food excellent and the conversation easy as is always the way when good friends are together, but the bar stocked and impressive range of single malt whiskies, much to the delight of our group.. we sampled, giggled and pretended it mattered whether the malt we each cradled was peaty, light or rich. What really counted though, was waiting on the opposite side of the road, looming over us in the dark and partly obscured by low cloud. Later, as I was standing outside talking on the phone to Kate, I watched the head torches of countless walkers, descending out of the cloud from the summit, seeing those dots of light clinging to the side of the mountain made me realise how small we were, and how big the challenge was.
Saturday was all about killing time until we could begin, finally we were ready and, standing at the footbridge waiting for 5 o'clock I got that familiar tightness in my belly, the apprehension of competition and of knowing the coming hours were about testing myself and not letting sponsors, friends and my team-mates down.
We climbed well and made the summit in just over 2 hours 15 minutes, this was the first time I've been to the area and the views got better with each turn, every one leaving me breathless in awe and reaching for my camera. As the team congregated at the cairn it was obvious we all felt strong and morale was good, descending in the dark, our group splintered though and myself and another member of the team missed the path leading to the Youth Hostel, a silly mistake, one I kicked myself for and one that could, in different situations have been very costly. As it was, it only added another couple of miles to our trip. Arriving back at the vehicles I was tired and grumpy for my carelessness, throwing off my kit I had hot food shoved into one hand and mug of steaming tea into the other, both were dealt with swiftly as the cars pulled away on the start of our 6 hour trip south toward the second climb.
Once I had sorted myself out (not an easy task in the confines of the back seat of a car) I dozed on and off, waking up as we pulled into the carpark at Wasdale. Torrential rain greeted us on the start of this, our second climb. It's not something that bothers me, I always find it easy to create my own comfortable world by pulling a hood up and switching my mind off, concentrating on only what I need to.. there is a stream crossing at the start of the climb, normally a small brook, this time, it was an angry roaring monster that we fought our way across and, not for the first time I gave silent thanks I was with a group I trusted implicitly.
Throughout our ascent we met walkers coming down, quickly passed conversations told us that most of them were turning back due to the weather.. spirits lifted somehow, we trudged on. The total climb (start to finish) is supposedly 5 hours, we took that to reach the top, visibility was around 20ft, the dawn was delayed by an hour, the rain didn't relent at all and several group members had complete sense of humour failures.. for some reason, I found myself sitting on a scree slope laughing.. why not? sulking wasn't going to make it sunny and I've done enough wet 24hr bike races to know how much energy can be wasted by complaining. We finally reached the summit but this time there was no posing for photos, we took shelter against the rising wind, got our bearings sorted out to find our way down, readjusted wet kit and headed home. I can honestly say that climb was the toughest thing I've ever done, I was beat, Scafell kicked my butt.. firstly on the way up, and then on the way down. I loved it though and was grinning like a mad-man as we reached the cars again. More hot food, more stripping off in a car-park. Wet kit into one bag, sort in another for remaining dry stuff, get into the car, and we're off.. now it's our time to dry off, sort out wet, blistered feet and prepare for our final challenge.
Pulling into a service station just before we hit Wales, we park next to a mini-bus.. It's full of fellow 3 peakers, one comes over with a T Shirt in hand.. anyone lost this on Ben Nevis?? It's mine... plastered in our Sponsors names, I had dropped it whilst descending, noticing too late to turn around and find it. I had been gutted, this was my souvenir of the trip, something I was going to wear with pride in future. wow.. I was so grateful to them....
They passed on bad news though, they had had word that Snowdon was shut, 80mph winds were being recorded on the summit, the mountain railway was shut and the peak had been evacuated for safety... confirming with our own call to the Mountain Warden we were all devastated, so close to success we had to, instead, head for home.
I'm not sure what else to say, the experience was incredible, tough times shared with good friends, laughs, practical jokes, discomfort, big scenery and the feeling that we were doing something pretty worthwhile. I still ache.. when I got home Sunday things like stairs were a bit too challenging, I can manage stairs now.. although I am walking like an old man. That's ok, feeling like this means I was pushed.. next time though, Snowdon had better watch out
Three Peaks
So.. 24 hours from now I'm going to be sat in a mini-bus with 7 other walkers and 4 drivers as we begin the long journey towards Fort William, Scotland and the start of our attempt at completing the Three Peaks Challenge.
For those of you who haven't heard of it before, this is where walkers attempt to scale the three highest peaks in the UK in a single 24 hour period.
It's not an inconsequential task, not only do we have to gain 11,165ft vertical ft but there will also be just over 1000 miles of driving, door to door.
Doing this has been on my 'List' for quite a while, and, through my membership of a rescue team, I'm now getting the opportunity. The team provides an Inshore lifeboat facility on the River Severn. A notorious stretch of water on the west coast of England, it has the second largest tidal range in the world and claims the lives of numerous people each year. Severn Area Rescue Association (or SARA as it's known to it's members) has put together a team to scale the three peaks whilst raising money to purchase a new D Class boat to replace an elderly and soon to be retired SARA3.
Last night was my time to pack.. to be honest, I wish I'd taken a photo of it. For the best part of two hours I sat in our living room, equipment, clothing and food strewn around me. My initial 'To Pack' list was used, amended, rewritten and amended again. Finally, I was happy and now two packs (one for walking, one for the vehicle) sit waiting for the off.
Will we make it? I don't know, weather forecasts this morning show high winds, heavy rain and low temperatures battering Scotland over the next few days.. what I do know though is that the attempt will be filled with emotional highs and lows, as 8 good friends take on the challenge with a single purpose.
If you're reading this and have 5 minutes and a few coins to spare.. check out our donations page
See you on the other side
For those of you who haven't heard of it before, this is where walkers attempt to scale the three highest peaks in the UK in a single 24 hour period.
It's not an inconsequential task, not only do we have to gain 11,165ft vertical ft but there will also be just over 1000 miles of driving, door to door.
Doing this has been on my 'List' for quite a while, and, through my membership of a rescue team, I'm now getting the opportunity. The team provides an Inshore lifeboat facility on the River Severn. A notorious stretch of water on the west coast of England, it has the second largest tidal range in the world and claims the lives of numerous people each year. Severn Area Rescue Association (or SARA as it's known to it's members) has put together a team to scale the three peaks whilst raising money to purchase a new D Class boat to replace an elderly and soon to be retired SARA3.
Last night was my time to pack.. to be honest, I wish I'd taken a photo of it. For the best part of two hours I sat in our living room, equipment, clothing and food strewn around me. My initial 'To Pack' list was used, amended, rewritten and amended again. Finally, I was happy and now two packs (one for walking, one for the vehicle) sit waiting for the off.
Will we make it? I don't know, weather forecasts this morning show high winds, heavy rain and low temperatures battering Scotland over the next few days.. what I do know though is that the attempt will be filled with emotional highs and lows, as 8 good friends take on the challenge with a single purpose.
If you're reading this and have 5 minutes and a few coins to spare.. check out our donations page
See you on the other side
Canoe Trip
| I don’t do canoes, I like canoes more than I like Kayaks.. which I’ll readily admit terrify me, but given a choice between two wheels and a saddle and sitting in a boat moving downstream in what can only very loosely be described as something approaching a straight line.. well… reaching a decision wouldn’t take long. But, find myself in a canoe I did, for a friends stag do. The trip was never going to involve long stretches of isolation, living off the land and emerging, victorious, as a band of wilderness tamers, indeed, it was billed as a 30 mile drift downstream, whilst calling in on pubs along the way, a bit of camping and an awful lot of messing about on (and possibly in) the water. As the old adage goes, what happens on tour, stays on tour, but some things I guess can enter the public domain.. A pitched apple hurling battle that covered around 8 miles – all the while shattering the quiet Herefordshire countryside and destroying the chances of numerous disgruntled anglers, the father of the bride capsizing… 3 times, copious alcohol, some of the worst boat handling the River Wye has ever seen and what happens when bets are taken up by a pair of very determined individuals. It never fails to amaze me how a group of blokes can turn up at a location, barely knowing each other and yet find a common ground that quickly turns into friendship. It also seems apparent that a lot of the worlds problems would simply fade into obscurity if each Nation’s leaders were left in a field with only a tennis ball for entertainment.. the chance discovery of said tennis ball became a source of amusement each time we stopped for *ahem* refreshments.. I just hope everyone else’s shoulder hurt as much as mine. We started in the right way, a fry up in a pub, before being taken to our starting point. The safety briefing was.. brief and very soon we were weaving our way downstream. There has been a fair amount of rain around recently and the water level was rising before our eyes, that probably contributed to some of the capsizes but at the time, it was adding to the fun. The bet I mentioned involved passing a cement mixer which was about to be overtaken by the river.. “a tenner says you can’t get that in the boat” laughter followed and the group moved on. Getting to the campsite for the evening we noticed two boats weren’t with us.. One had capsized, leaving it’s two passengers to make their own way downstream, the other had a third member of the team.. Cue much cheering and laughter. The evening was fantastic, we hit a local pub before getting back to the tents to restoke the BBQ and light a separate fire out of anything looking vaguely combustible. The second day was, much to everyone’s disappointment cancelled, the rain had caused the river at our final get out point to become flooded to the point of danger. The minibus ride home was filled with laughter and not a single hangover.. OK so maybe canoes aren’t so bad after-all..;o) |
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