Weekend Roundup April 7/8th

[G.]

Darren wasn't out yesterday, so I'll have to do the honours. He texted round on Friday to say that he was off mountain biking, but I believe he was actually sat at home, weeping over this photo.

In his absence, the International/intermediate All-stars numbered a mighty 15 yesterday morning as we left the square for Osmotherley: me, young Dan, Tony G, Anthony, Shaun, Karl, Neil, Dr Dave, Irish Dave, Dave C, John, Cam, Jon G, Stuart and Marco Pantani. At least, the mystery rider had the bandanna, the fitness and the riding panache of Pantani, but not only is Pantani dead but he never spoke with a Yorkshire accent even when he was alive. Eventually I worked out that our Il Pirata lookalike was none other than Ian H, so congratulations on fooling me, and also on the form

Special mention also goes to Anthony, who was riding with us for the first time. “This is a very hilly club run!” was heard to emanate from his lips on the way out. However, actions speak louder than words, so his exasperated gasps couldn't fool anyone after he dropped the group up almost every climb. As for me, my legs were still feeling the after-effects of my JOGLE efforts on Thursday, so I kept repeating “no heroics today” under my breath, mantra-like, whenever I had any breath to spare.

White Horse Bank got us all nicely warmed up on the ascent, which was useful as there was still plenty of snow around on top of the moors. John commented on my legs, “It's a bit chilly for 3/4s isn't it?” It certainly was, but thanks to the wonders of cleated shoes my feet never left the pedals, which meant I didn't have to find them again when my body wasn't sure whether or not the said limbs had disappeared or turned into blocks of ice.

We needed all the residual heat we could get when Cam punctured 3 miles from the cafe stop, due to a stray piece of glass. I then got a snakebite puncture two miles later, but was able to roll to the cafe and replace it while my coffee was being served. By this point there were 12 of us, Neil, Dr Dave and Dave C having left for somewhere else (we suspect York). By the time we left, the weather had worked wonders and actually warmed up, so the return trip was quite pleasant, being made all the more so when Tony and Shaun did their usual high speed tugboat impression on the front of the group for the flat run back to York. Cheers chaps, that was a good day out!

I failed Rob's "walk down the stairs forwards" test this morning. Assuming I pass on the re-take, I'll be out on the Scotton 100 next week. See y'all then.

[Broom Wagon]

Round 1 of the Nutcracker Series MTB races for me, at the firing ranges on Catterick Garrison. Having had my usual dreams of road racing thwarted by the usual excuse: lack of time, riding the odd MTB race seemed like a good alternative – or at least that was my thinking when I entered. I rode this race last year, but upon mooching around the entry area and seeing a lot of lean looking types with exotic machinery and with memories flooding back of a large steep hill descent on the course that there could be no way that I could reach the bottom without ending up an ugly heap of human/MTB hybrid (I’d run down it in the race last year – well I say run – slipped and slithered) and the rocky stream section where I’d become rather too acquainted with a number of rocks on too many occasions, I couldn’t help muttering under my breath – “this is a bad idea, this is a very bad idea.”

Oh well, I was going to get a broken bike, broken bones and utter physical humiliation but I might as well have look at that hill. So there it was, definitely the same one and route as last year – but having had a year’s more MTB riding and a bit of pottering around the red run now and again at Dalby, it looked nowhere near as steep and bone breaking as I’d remembered. It looked like I could actually ride it. The previous race finished and there was chance to practise the course – now was my chance to try it. Over the top and that familiar top of the roller coaster feeling, there was no backing out now. To be quite honest, it was easy – I reached the bottom with my poor old befuddled brain wondering how a year ago it had been something I couldn’t conceive that I could ever have the ability to ride and now was a doddle.

They’d changed the course too – last year from the start you did a short steep off road climb, then the technical hill descent and into some woods with awkward tree roots where you could only ride single file – it wasn’t a great start really, with fifty or sixty MTBers trying to get into position. They’d changed it this year, so from the start you did a short steep off road climb then onto quite a long section of MOD roads into a stiff breeze and generally upwards – much better for a dyed in the wool roadie – even if that roadie is an overweight out of condition one.

At the start I got right to the back of the group – I’m never going to be in contention in an MTB race (well any race) so I don’t want to be in the way of those boys that are. It was a bad idea in hindsight – the short steep off road climb had a number of people not being able to stay on their bikes and it resulted in a mass pile up, with me stuck behind it – so by the time I reached the road, I was at the back of the back. Luckily a couple of good guys were there too and I tucked in behind them and yes….drafted (drafting in an MTB race?). We began to carve our way through the group and by the time I came to the first proper off road section I was in a position I had absolutely no expectation of being in – a good half way up the field. Wow, I couldn’t believe it, me in contention in an MTB race.

Of course it couldn’t last – as the route headed towards the stream there came a boggy section of thick, deep gloopy mud. Naturally, I should have done what the chap ahead did and just nail it across and pay no attention to the bike shimmying all over the place – but that’s not me and as soon as the bike began to squirm uncontrollably I got visions of ending up spread eagled over the bog, being sucked down and being found two thousand years later preserved by the mud like Tollund man along with my MTB. So I dived for a less muddy patch to put a foot down. The half the field (ok, ok, the third of the field), I’d carved up on the road bit had been piling up behind me on the off road and as soon as I stopped, passed by in a long train never to be seen again – oh well.

Back to the original plan and ride around as fast as I could until lapped. The rocky stream came and went with no bother and I ended up dicing with the back markers and fast women. I’ve no objection whatsoever spending time with fast women and besides they all had far superior bike handling skills to me and I could only keep in contact with them by dragging them back on the climbs.

It was over too soon and I was pulled out after the second lap of three having been lapped by the leaders – same as last year but given the number of people still coming in after I’d finished I’ve a feeling I might have done better even though I’m nowhere near as fit as I was at this time last year.

I can’t help thinking MTB racing is to some extent what I’ve always wished road racing could be. You can pretty much turn up on the day and get a race – no faffing about with licences and having to enter races months and months in advance and still getting rejected. And mister average can still get a good race without having to lay down a good winter training with the right elements of intensity – there’s always someone to race with in MTB racing whereas in road racing once you’re out the back that’s pretty much it.

[Jon G]

Excellent ride to osmotherly, the scenery stunning as usual, cold day up on the moors with piles of unmelted snow around us. I did regret not wearing overshoes when I lost feeling in my toes on the way to the cafe. Thankfully it did warm up a tad for the journey back. Strong riding by everybody especially when the road went upwards. A ride with plenty of climbing some quite steep, deceptively so.

Longest ride of the year for me door to door of 121 miles. I also failed the test of been able to walk down the stairs forwards this morning.

My ride home is usually uneventful so it was nice to see a focused Ginnie on the bridge over the a64 at Bishopthorpe , well I was sure it was you anyway, apologies if not. And also saw Dawn and Steve heading back to York through Stillingfleet.

Should be out next Saturday as I'm not in the Scotton but if not will be out the week after on the Thixendale ride.

Jon

[Broom Wagon]

I was third...........from last (in my category), oh well I still had a good day out.

[Cyan Skymoos]

Don't think of it as laying down a good winter Steve. Think of it as enjoying getting out on the bike.
Road racing isn't for everyone, it is very hard and does require a commitment to at least a little hard training each week.

[Tim r]

Stockton wheelers 23 mile tt had my name on it this sunday at Bishopton up Teeside way. It was described as a challenging course and so it proved, certainly not flat but not stupid hilly either. I certainly do not shine on this type of terrain but figure that if I'm struggling then it must be doing me good (now I've read that again my wife is right about me!) I am trying to do a race (is that the right description for a time trial?) every weekend and this one was definately different from last weeks flat 10 at Topcliffe.
Upon arrival at the start I had my first brush with the time trial police who informed me that my number was pinned on in an unacceptable position. I accept that he was technically correct (I had got someone else to pin it on) but you would have thought that I had murdered someone and danced on their grave singing alleluiah!
Anyway the comedy continued when I was allowed to start with me locking my back wheel on the greasy road and sailing straight past a turning and then to put the tin hat on it completely missing a turning on the final lap which was subtly different from the first lap. All this nonsense probably cost me about a minute but I am now a wiser man!
Roll on next week!

[Andrew G]

A highly select group of riders, namely self and Dave Byworth, were the only takers for Sunday's run out to Bolton Abbey. Early morning drizzle and a westerly wind made for hard work on the way out through Sicklinghall and Otley. All the other riders we met on the way were coming in the opposite direction - obviously knew something we didn't!

After sustenance at the cafe stop we climbed back up to Greenhow and then flew back to York with a tailwind assisted 21mph average speed for the last 40 miles.