Tee Pee

Some of you will already know that Dark Chris and I have decided to ride the Trans Portugal this summer. After months of preparation, “training” (in true Jac and Chris style of just going out for rides rather than any of the fancy training stuff Andy talks about) and, of course, stressing, the last few weeks seem to have flown by and tomorrow morning we head off to Portugal.

We fly out to Lisbon early tomorrow morning and then join up with the rest of the riders to be transferred by coach to Braganca, the start point for the race.

For those who don’t know what the race is all about, it’s a solo, 8 day stage race which starts in Braganca in the north of Portugal and finishes, 1,000km later, in Sagres on the Algarve (yes, where the beer is). The race is a bit different to other stage races in that there are no course markings at all and we don’t know the exact route in advance. Instead, the route is downloaded onto GPS’s each evening and we follow our GPS each day. Throughout the day, we’re unsupported, so the GPS has water fountains and café’s marked on it so that we can refuel throughout the day, but we have to be sure to leave and return to the route at the same point (kind of like most other unsupported stage races).

To get to Sagres, we’ll be riding parallel to the Spanish border until day 7 when we hang a right and head towards the coast and then day 8 sees us ride down the coast to Cape Saint Vincent and round the corner to Sagres, finishing up on the beach. Our average day will be 125k with 2,500m of climbing (with one whopper of 160k and one “easy” day of 95k). So, it’s fair to say, it’s quite a big bike ride. On the plus side, the race organisers have organised nice hotel accommodation each night and our luggage will magically be transported into our hotel rooms each night.

I’ve had lots of great advice and tips from other more experienced endurance riders (Jenn Hopkins, Andy Wardman, Dan Darwood, Dom Perry, Stevie Lockhart, Jacqui Phelan and, of course, Andy Cathcart) on training, nutrition and mental preparation. So there’s not much more I can do now. So, on Sunday morning I’ll set off with a little ginger angel placed firmly on my shoulder to shout at me and tell me to keep riding whenever my legs and head start telling me to stop (and probably smiling and nodding knowingly whenever I ride the nice techy sections). I’m sure he’ll also remind me that it’s not really a race and to be sensible – of course the bully bangles will be there too to give me a kick in the pants whenever I get too girly!

So, now the bags and sun cream are packed, bikes all checked (and re-fixed after I managed to mangle my brand new chain and chainrings on Tuesday night!). There’s not really much more to do now except settle into a long journey tomorrow, avoiding getting too psyched out by the nervous chatter of other riders, then just hope that my legs remember what to do when I roll up to the start line at 08.10 on Sunday morning.

Jac (the visiting Minx)
x

Back to Basics

It's very strange not riding my bike.
I haven't ridden for various reasons for seven weeks now.
Sometimes I miss it but then other times it feels like it was only yesterday when I last rode.

In that time I've moved house, taken up car-boot selling and received physiotherapy on my ankle.

The house is more demanding that I ever would have thought. It's taken us 677 days to renovate to a what could be considered 'liveable' state. (By liveable I mean we have hot and cold running water and a bed and sofa).
I know the delays were our own fault, it seemed that for every day we spent working on the place there were another 5 we spent messing around with bikes!

Car boot selling has for the time being replaced my Sunday racing (not too bad timing actually - more about that in a min).
As long as the 5am start doesn't offend you (well, no more than the smell of some of the punters) and you have enough crap to get rid of, there's some good money to be made, which lets face it is most welcome right now!

As for the physio, she advised me not to race downhill for a while. Probably for the best as I don't physically have enough strength in my ankle to stand on one leg but frustrating all the same, especially with the National series now in full swing and Championship races coming up soon.

So anyway, the races have been cancelled and I'm doing my strengthening exercises and although the walls of my new house are begging to be painted, I'm going riding this weekend.

Thanks for reading.
SJ. x

Weekends are for....

Weekends are for getting out on the bike with friends. Life is good.

V.

the blame game.

I crashed my bike a couple of weeks ago. It was a big, fast, rock/sky/rock/sky/sky/rock/sky tumble-drier of a crash and as well hitting every bit of me from my liitle toe to the back of my head on the way down, I pretzled my front wheel so badly I had to jump up and down on it so that it would turn in the fork (scuffing the paint off the brace as it went). So I sat out the ensuing race to scrub grazes and offer encouraging hecklement and then we went to the pub as nothing was hurting that much (and certainly not enough to keep me from the Pippin). Needless to say, once the adrenaline and then the beer had worn off, it did hurt, quite a lot actually, and I now have a few more scars, strong painkillers, an irritating cast and a nice bit of metalwork holding my left scaphoid together whilst it slowly, slowly heals.

C'est la vie.

This is what we do, we ride bikes, and sometimes we get it wrong, and ninety-nine percent of the time we walk away from the getting it wrong with only a few bruises whilst the other one percent bites a little harder.

As I said, c'est la vie.

But people seem to want to know why I crashed. What was at fault. And really, there's nothing to blame. A multitude of things might have contributed to it happening. I was tired from the Saturday's road ride and just a little bit hungover after a good night at the pub with friends. I was on a trail that had switched from damp and velcrogrippy to dusty, ballbearingsonateatray dry in the 48 hours since I'd last been there. I'd hopped straight onto the Anthem after a month of riding much longer forks and slacker angles without so much as a by your leave, and fitted nice new tyres the night before too as well as wearing an untested 'lucky' jersey. I'd gone out for a practise lap late because I'd been left hanging around whilst the marshall briefing went on, and on (and on and on). I'd read an unwelcome text just before heading up the hill whist I was waiting, and drank all of the very strong coffee in the flask, too. And then I'd been held up by a few slower riders, so I was in a hurry, worried that I was going to miss my start. And - probably - I was looking at the view, instead of the trail, because how often do you get to look at a big fat swathe of the Pennines bathed in April sunshine with a heat haze shimmering over the top?

Quite.

But none of those things are reasons for crashing. I've been doing this for long enough to know that they'd all have been negated by a little bit of concentration applied in the correct place. Looking for something to pin the blame on, when you've nobody to blame but yourself, doesn't solve anything. Rant about tyre choice and fork pressure and trail surface all you like but the buck still stops with you. Because you're the one at the controls.



And sometimes, for no reason at all, bad things do happen.

j.

Tour of the 'gorms

The washing machine is groaning away under the weight of four days dirty riding kit as I am just back from riding a tour of the Cairngorms with 5 friends. Expertly led and fed by Phil of Scottish Mountain Bike Guides. This is easily the best riding I have ever done, proper mountains to make you feel like a tiny rider in a big country. Simply stunning, with breath-taking views round every corner. With 120 miles in four days my legs have been nicely worked and scratched at by the heather, my nerves tested by singletrack with steep drop offs to lochs below, my feet dipped in icy rivers (some ridden through, some waded) and my face blasted by wind, rain and sun. 

I don't think words can do justice to the adventure, I'm not sure photos do either but there are some more here and here.

V.

all in the numbers

easter sunday

the plan: to route test July's happy hundred.

the ride: lovely. wall to wall sunshine, lambs and daffodils. first swifts of summer. rollercoaster road. bolton abbey easter bunny. dougie lampkin's dad. cadbury's creme eggs. peckett well (aka the only smooth road in west yorkshire) both ways. fishnchips. sun tan.

the numbers: 88 miles of riding. 11,364 feet of ascent.

hmm. some revision may be in order... :-$

j.

0.4 seconds

That's not even the blink of an eye but it's what I lost my podium place by at the weekend! (Actually it was the weekend before but I've been a bit slack with posting...)

The thing is, despite the time, I'm five races into the season and it's still all about the same things; Good friends, good riding and good times, and of course, good weather helps too!

Enjoy the long weekend!

SJ. x

about turn

Last blog: 28th December
Last flickr post: 3rd January
Last day off: not entirely sure...

Busy busy.

Racing for fun this year whilst work and health take precedence. Lacking the usual markers of training months, rest weeks, M25 days and two-hour tests that always seemed too brief to tell any honest truths. Not missing them, though. 'Just riding' reveals that I've somehow kept enough base to climb as fast as I want to despite a winter of laziness, and that the drive to ride bigger, harder and faster still exists, despite numbing myself with volume over the past few years. Trails that make mind work as hard as legs, arms and back strong once more, shins bruised and scabby, knees shiver and quake. It's a progression of sorts but also a regression, because this is how it used to be: out in the sun with friends in tow, encouraged and pushed beyond previous limits, bravery and laughter, germolene and plasters.

Turning out to be a good year.

j.

The Joys of Spring

When I was just a few weeks into this job, I met a grizzled old-timer on a bench in the City, who informed me that you're not a real courier until you've survived your first winter. That was back in October, and now it's March, and London's full of daffodils and magnolia blossom, and I think I've made it.

And even though I've spent far too much time awake and outside for the past few months, I feel like I'm coming out of hibernation. The evenings are lighter, and I'm feeling more inclined to stay out a bit, and maybe even do some riding for fun, rather than just race home and into my pyjamas.

And all the couriers seem to be losing weight. This isn't strictly true, of course - it's just that the weather's warming up and they're shedding all those bulky layers of clothing. When the winter was at its coldest, I found myself shivering in five layers, whereas recently I've occasionally stripped down as far as one. I've even seen some of the blokes riding around in sleeveless t-shirts.

And I'm getting a taste of how idyllic this job is going to be in the summer. There's not much work around at the moment (I must be spending just as much time hanging around on standby as I am riding), but that's OK, because it's now warm enough for me to loiter in a park for an hour without ending up frostbitten. The other day I found a sunny corner to while away the elevenses lull, and actually ended up dozing off for a bit, until my radio started shouting at me.

And of course, now I've passed the test, earned my spurs, and I'm a real courier! Or so I thought. I was discussing this with another old timer last week, and apparently you actually have to make it through two winters, in case the first one's an easy one. Pah.

Emily

It's amazing how 5am doesn't seem early when you're excited!

My first race of the season took me to the Forest of Dean for the 661 Mini Downhill.

This time last year there were six ladies entered, only one year on and our numbers had doubled.

The Forest of Dean itself is a fantastic place, with a proper MTB centre and what looked like very well maintained trails.

The race track itself was mint! It started on the fireroad at the top of what can only be described as the steepest push up. Ever.

Straight into a rooty wooded section with a couple of small root drops onto a right hander and down a rocky chute. All good.

Off a little lip you could managed a bit of air time into the next chute, then it was a pedally straight with a couple of small doubles. Down again over more roots followed by another chute into a second wooded section with a nasty tree stump to avoid (more about that later...) another pedally straight, sharp right hander, drop, sharp left hander, berm, pedal to the table then a set of left to right switchbacks, mini road jump, more left to right switchbacks and finish!

I managed three practice runs in the morning and actually felt pretty good about the track considering I'd never ridden it before and most of the girls there were either locals or had spent the Saturday practicing!

My first race run came and I felt really fast and smooth through the whole top section, entering the second wooded section I somehow managed to get my line wrong and hit the tree stump I'd mentioned earlier (nice of the BC Commisiare to spray it red so it called out to me like a beacon!) off the track and down the slope I slid! Uninjured I clambered back onto the track and kept going, annoyed that I was doing so well I lost my focus (and my footing) on the tabletop and finished the run with a time of 1.17906 putting me in 7th place!

I was annoyed because I knew I'd lost a good 5 seconds on the crash and probably another 5 due to not being able to get it back together for the bottom section but I also knew I could make that time up with my second run and get a 1.7 or below which would put me in 5th place.

Sat at the top waiting for my second run I was uncomfortably nervous, I knew I needed to make this time up to get a result I'd be happy with so the pressure was on for me.

As I left the start gate I hit the first section with a good smooth speed. However, that was where it ended! For some reason I rode the remainder of the track slower than my grandmother could and finished with a 1.17428. I was still in 7th place, hadn't moved up the 2 places I was hoping to and had only improved my time by a fraction!

I was so disappointed with myself despite my times not actually being that bad, my practice runs had felt so fast I just don't know what went wrong for the race runs. My friend made me laugh by informing me that I'd picked my way through the roots near the stump I'd crashed into and did I not realise the bike would cruise over them!

All in I still had a fantastic day and will definitely be heading back to FoD for some casual riding very soon!

The journey home was a different story, I blew a tyre on the A34 by Newbury and sat there for an hour in the dark waiting for the RAC. I'd already established that there was no spare but didn't realise that my cover was invalid because of that so was presented with a bill for £220 for the new tyre. I think that's the most expensive race I've ever done!

Thanks for reading! SJ. x

We're on Anchorage Time

So the clock's set to Anchorage time and we're counting down to the start of the Iditarod Trail Invitational. Of course Minx swore she'd never get caught up in following any endurance race ever again after last year's emotional Great Divide Race, but with John Ross, a long time friend and supporter setting out to ride 350 miles across frozen Alaska how could we not? 

 Regular followers will notice that Geoff  Roes from GDR 08 is also competing - as is his other half Jill Homer (who did the blog updates for GDR). I anticipate another podcast addiction is not far off. Click on the link to the official race website then go look at everyone's blogs to see exactly how they trained for this. But maybe not at work or that'll be the morning gone....

And a toast to John at 11.00pm tonight.

Minx

The end of hibernation, the start of my mid life crisis.

The fug of winter lethargy is beginning to properly lift. Mojo located and requiring some nurturing, I bottled out of soloing the Strathpuffer and joined a team of 4 to 'enjoy' the windy, snowy madness and the socialising between laps. The snowy morning laps were a privilege to experience, but I'll leave my second 24 hour solo effort til I'm mentally better prepared.

Starting my 40th year has prompted a flurry of entries to some 'gnarlier' events than the XC and endurance stuff I have attempted before. My thinking being, I'll get them in now and if I utterly embarrass myself, I can blame it on a mid life crisis. The first effort was round 1 of the Alpine Bikes Winter Series at Innerleithen. 'A fun race' I was told, how come then, when I looked at the start list there was a certain T Moseley, J Mart and K Curd in the line up... So, I was going to come last, the question was, just how last would I be?

The heady aroma of testosterone filled the air in the queue for the uplift, not another woman in sight, I was truly afraid. Squeaking, swearing and hyperventilating, I made it down the practice runs in one piece and at last got chatting to a couple of the 7 other lady competitors. I was the only first timer to DH racing on the female start list, but experienced young and upcoming riders Bex Reilly and Angela Coates looked after me. My race run was a blur of adrenaline induced tunnel vision and I collapsed in a retching, gasping heap at the finish. Anyone who suggests that DH is a lazy option because of the pushing and uplifts is so wrong. I've rarely exerted more intense effort over a short period, even during the most beasting of hill intervals. So how did I do? Though I say so myself, I thought I acquitted myself respectably at 40 secs behind the girl in front and not coming last overall. The thing that I will treasure is that I rode in the same race as a multiple world cup winner and was only 1minute and 58 seconds slower. And so I enter my mid life crisis with my head held high :)

Jo

I sometimes think that all cyclists secretly want to be couriers. It was my dream job before I started (it still is), and I've lost track of the number of people who've come up to me in the street to confide that it's always been their ambition too and ask how they get into it. (Two of them have since turned up on the circuit, for which I blame myself.) But there's much more to it than just riding your bike around all day - here's ten things you won't know about couriering until you try it:

1. You will become boringly obsessed with the weather forecast.

2. Law firm receptions have the best sweets.

3. You will soon be on first name terms with most of the bike shop staff in town.

4. Many companies require you to deliver to their loading bay, which is often several streets away from the main reception. The receptionist will not tell you this until you have locked your bike up, taken the package out of your bag, and queued for 10 minutes to talk to them.

5. A good waterproof can make your day; bad gloves will ruin it.

6. Black cab drivers are the enemy, but will also chat you up, on occasion.

7. You will become an expert on which cafes let you use their toilets, and which pubs will refill your water bottle.

8. Your social life will wither and die, because you're always asleep by 9pm.

9. Tourists will frequently ask you for directions to a street five minutes' walk away, and then hail a cab anyway.

10. You will never get rid of the smell.

My Dream Job

Meet cycle courier Emily, our latest Minx blogger. Not only does she have my dream job she rather unhelpfully confirmed that it is in fact every bit as fun and romantic as you'd imagine. A bit less so on cold, wet days mind you... 

I have spared everyone the classic riding past Bar Italia shot she sent me, as I don't want to be responsible for the stampede of girls leaving homes, partners and otherwise warm, dry jobs to sign up. Instead you get Emily looking way cool and working her corporate look to the max. Does anyone say 'to the max' anymore? Thought not. Sigh.

Minx

Lakeland riding

Some rides are just so lovely I almost have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. 

Vikki

Durango

There is the small matter of persuading my beloved that Durango, Colorado in September is the holiday of his dreams, and the matter of saving the airfare but I have just done my entry for SSWC. I am hoping this will focus my mind and legs on some singlespeed riding, I have managed one ride so far this year. This is not to say I have turned into a total couch potato, I've taken up fell running which seems to be keeping me off the bike. I will at least have the legs for the uphill pushing that seems to go with my attempts to ride singlespeed! 

Vikki

New Minx alert!

Say hello to Sarah Jane. As you'll gather she likes to ride downhill fast - winning the 661 mini downhill and placing second in the NPD 4X and Dragon Downhill series last year. Sarah Jane is joining us to randomly blog through the year, hopefully giving a different and quite grrrrr perspective from our usual assorted mix of trails, commuting, occasional 'cross races, singlespeeding the length of the USA as fast as possible (well, Jenn only for that one), and riding for the fun of it jottings. Yes, yes.... I know it's ALL riding for the fun of it, but you know what I mean....

Also joining us will cycle courier Emily- as soon as I can make her take a picture of herself anyway.

So more later...

Minx

Singlespeeds in the snow

3 girls, 3 bikes, no gears, in the snow in the Peak District today. Top day! Need I say more?






Vikki


Climb
originally uploaded by jumbly

I've had a bit of a duff year to be honest and I'm not that sorry to see the back of it, but what a fantastic last day it turned out to be. A singlespeed ride with Trio that had us above the freezing fog in sunshiney, blue skies. We took our time, pootling along, stopping to admire the view, plenty of giggling as we skidded about on ice patches. Cake and hot drinks in the cafe at the end. A day that really reminded me why I like to ride a bike, just what I needed.

I don't really do New Years resolutions, being of the sort of disposition to instantly break them, but I have agreed to take part in a 2009 Century a Month Challenge that Trio has got a few riders roped into, hopefully will help keep reminding me why I like to ride. 

Vikki

Slack?

Or just busy...

Mull. A thoroughly enjoyable muddle of friends, fun, laughter, beauty, cakes, cocoa, bikes, trains, boats, skies, mud, pain, racing, beer and potato based foodstuffs, all in complete and exhausting excess...

...including the mileage. Fine, so the bulk of the travel was done by train but still - 1340 miles is a long way to travel for two hours of riding. Or 90 minutes of riding and 30 minutes gentle jogging with a broken bike on your shoulder. Must do more stuff at home next year. And also go to these nice places not for racing. And maybe ride to Mull :-)

Christmas. Often hard work, this year no exception. Keeping myself sane with plenty of quiet road rides. If I'd been able to bring myself to ride a road bike when I was growing up here I think life might have panned out somewhat differently. The mountain biking is a dull, clay-slathered bogfest for ten months of the year but the roads are as good as anything I've ridden anywhere.

And what good is Christmas without cats to tear the tree to shreds? Sadly not mine but I will get to see them often. Ahhh.

Next: packing boxes, moving house, doing some work, putting down roots, shaking off colds, buying new helmets to replace the ones I keep smashing. Hmmm.

j.