Short Stories

How do you know when it's finally time to say goodbye to your favourite old shorts?

Is it when the stitching frays a bit along the seems? No. They're still hanging together. It'll be fine.

Is it when the chamois starts to get a bit lumpy? Nah. It's just molded to the shape of your bottom. It's not chaffing, so it's still fine.

Is it when you notice a slightly thinning patch on your inner thigh where your thigh rubs against the saddle? Oh no. That's just aero-dynamics...less resistance at your inner thigh.

Is it when you make a speedy dismount, desperately trying not to go pelting into the stream, but manage to catch that slightly thinning patch on your saddle, wobble and tumble a bit and hear that unmistakable sound of ripping lycra? Yes. It's probably time now.

Jac
x

It might just be spring

Today was officially a lovely spring day!

I've not been able to get out riding all week, so this morning's blue skies and tweety birds were all it took for me to decide to ride out to visit my Dad rather than drive....well, that and a quick pedal change (we seem to be down a pair of pedals at the moment, so there's a rotation system going on), some indecision about whether or not to be brave enough not to wear winter kit, opting for a compromise of roubaix 3/4's, base layer, jersey, arm warmers and gillet rather than winter jacket and then I was off.

20 minutes later, my foot came out the pedal suddenly...or at least I thought it came out of my pedal. When I looked down, I saw that the pedal was attached to my foot, but not to the crank. Ahem...maybe I didn't put it on quite tightly enough, but luckily nobody saw me go a bit pink with embarrassment and I quickly put it right and got back on my way.

Within another 20 minutes, I was by the seaside and breathing in salty, seaweedy air and heading down the coast under big blue skies. Although it's only April, the beaches were crammed with people (admittedly they were all huddling near the carparks behind wind breaks and wearing lots of clothes, but they were at the seaside).

The coast road's always pretty windy, so my plan was to ride out along the flat, but windy, coast road and return by the less windy but quite lumpy inland road. I was relieved to turn off the busy coast road out of the wind and start heading cross country on peaceful little roads.

I managed to spot lots of pheasants, lambs, cabbage fields (which smell quite strong), a hare and a dinosaur. I really did spot a dinosaur...

I stopped off at my Dad's for some lunch and cake (and a bit of oohing and ahing at the fact that I rode over the big hill from the coast road) before heading off for the return leg. By this time it had actually started to get a little bit warm but I wasn't quite brave enough to take my arm warmers off. I think I had a bit of a glow going on though.

I decided to go for a bit of a randomeer and took a left onto a very small road which was deserted but turned out to have some brand new tarmac on it, so I felt very spoiled....traffic free road and not a single pot hole to be seen. The road was so quiet, it felt like I'd stepped back in time and the road signs only made the feeling stronger....when do you last remember seeing a sign telling you were 1 and 5/8 miles from a town?

Although having the roads to myself was bliss, my randomeering did add a few extra miles onto my ride, as I discovered when I realised my gas tank was empty and I hadn't brought any food with me and there was still 10 miles left to go. Luckily there was milkshake and Portuguese potatoes waiting when I got home.

Fingers crossed tomorrow's just as lovely as today and I might even be brave enough to wear shorts rather than roubaix 3/4....maybe. I'll definitely take some food though.

Jac
x

tick tock tick tock

the clocks have gone forward and it's all downhill from here. don't waste it are the words of the week.

there's enough light in the evenings to ride after work and enough warmth to do it in short sleeves. the knees are out and already a state but the trails are as buff as they ever get; every day from now 'til october will end with a race to the top of the hill. chasing the sun, chasing the dust, chasing the summer.



go!

j.

Patagonia

Fi writes:

I've been back from Chilean Patagonia for a month. Sorry about the delay. I feel like in the past 48 hours the post race fog has lifted.

UPDATE:

What did I do: The Wenger Patagonia Expedition Adventure Race

Where is it: Chilean Patagonia

What is it: 10 day expedition adventure race, including mountain biking, trekking, kayaking and navigation

Who did I race with: Team Adidas Terrex, former World Adventure Racing Champions

How did it go? Well. We won!

I'm in the process of writing an article about the experience and finding it rather draining. It was 8 of the hardest days of my life, yet the most exhilarating. The report will follow, I promise. In the mean time, share our finish line moment:

The Paw of Guilt

Today was my first mountain bike time trial. It was the last of three races in the Innerleithen winter series. The race is run in a typical time trial style - riders are set off at 1 minute intervals to ride a fixed course. Today's course was a 25k loop using a combination of the red xc course, combined with bits of dh and some random brand new trail cut especially for the race. Of course, being Innerleithen, there was a fair bit of climbing...actually, there was a lot of climbing!

The weather's been pretty bad up here over the last week, with quite a bit of snow falling over the last few days. Luckily though, most of the snow had melted on the trails, but it was still pretty cold, so I had to ride with a few layers on.

The race started at the bottom of the first big climb up from the car park, so there wasn't much of a warm up before we were right into it. I'm not very good at climbing at the best of times, but with no real warm up, I'm pretty rubbish, so I was passed by a few people pretty quickly. But my theory was that this was quite a long race, so if I managed to keep a steady pace, then I'd be fine.

I managed to keep that steady pace up the first climb and was looking forward to the first decent (which was the first decent on the Enduro I did at the end of January). Then I started going down and realised that the snow melt had left the trail very, very muddy and very,very slippery! Although I didn't exactly crash, I didn't spend much time on my bike - most of it was slipping off the trail and landing on my bum. I knew I should be able to ride this section, but ended up having to get off and run / stumble with my bike a lot of the way. I managed to get back on just before the bottom of the first section and got on to the fire road.

I knew there were a few folk just ahead of me so I charged off along the fire road hoping that I might be able to at least get them back in my sights, but I didn't see a soul. My heart sunk...how could they have managed to create such a big gap in such a short time? I pushed to try to get up the hill a bit quicker to try to make up some more time, but still no sight of anyone. By the time I got to the next marshal, I was feeling pretty down. Then the marshal told me that I shouldn't be coming up that fire road...I should have gone back down the hill and come up the trail through the woods to where he was.

As I turned back to try to find where I'd gone wrong, I really didn't know if I wanted to keep going. I knew I'd lost a lot of time, done several extra kilometres and extra climbing, so there was no way I'd manage to make up the time now. I eventually managed to find the trail I should have gone down, carried on and got back to that marshal about 25 minutes later.

By this time, I had decided that I wasn't racing any more. I was just riding the trails, on what had turned out to be a sunny, if cold, spring day and enjoying being out in the woods riding on some brand new trails. So I managed to settle back into a good steady pace and started having some fun.

The trail wound up and down the hill, using mostly single track, made much more techy by the muddy conditions...proper mud that'll take several washes to get out of my kit and made my tyres completely useless! The freshly cut pieces of trail were a real challenge. They were often almost fall line and very loose and greasy and more often than not I ended up slipping off the side of the trail and hanging on to the nearest tree to stop me slipping all the way down the hill.

The last part of the course combined trail centre trails and freshly cut trails which were fast and flowy, and despite there being 90 odd riders, surprisingly quiet (maybe that's because I'd gone the wrong way and had been passed by loads of folks whilst I was charging off up the fire road!). I managed to talk myself into riding some of the rocky stuff I wasn't sure about, only to realise there was another rider just behind me listening to me telling myself "Don't be such a girl! Everyone else can ride it. Just pay attention." I just hope he didn't think I was talking to him!

I finally popped out at the finish to a big cheer and with big grin on my face.

It might not have been my finest race, but I ended up having a lot of fun and getting pretty mucky in the process. Despite that, I managed a double podium! Third in the senior women's race and winning the overall series!
Ah, yes. The paw of guilt....knowing that we were racing today, I made one of my post race fav meals last night so that we could heat it up when we got back. So I made some tasty meatballs and a nice thick tomato sauce to go with them. Unfortunately, I had put the tomato sauce out in a tub, but hadn't put the lid on the tub properly. So when we got back and I went to start heating things up, I noticed that the lid wasn't on the tub...then I noticed that there were specks of tomato sauce all over the kitchen worktop, and some on the floor. Then our lovely, but very inquisitive cat, strolled into the kitchen to welcome us home. As I crouched down to say hello to her, I noticed that she her paw was very red, tomato-ey you could say...There goes the fav post race meal.

Jac
x

jumps and drops, tea and cake.

The title says it all, really.

Our favourite bearded trail guru, Great Rock is running a women's 'Jumps & Drops' skills day at Gisburn Forest on Friday 20th May. I will be there learning how to jump and drop, as my goal for this year is to be able to fly stylishly over the last stepdown at Fort William, which means I need to learn to commit :)

A massive bike and/or super skills aren't necessary but the desire to be a better rider is (and I'm sure we all have that in spades). Ed's got gentle encouragement (and fluffy facial hair) down to a fine art and it'll be a rare opportunity to progress your riding in the supportive atmosphere that we all know you only get with an all-female group.

Then, because it's a Saturday the day after and Saturdays are for riding, we'll be hosting a ride from Blazing Saddles in Hebden Bridge on 21st May. A sort of sociable Minxes get-together if you like - nobody will be left behind, we'll stop for tea and cake at least once and we'll take in as much (or as little) of the great riding in Calderdale as we feel the need for on the day. Because sometimes it's nice just to pootle...



If there are enough ladies to warrant splitting the group then we'll do so but don't worry about being too fast/slow, there are enough trails here for everyone. Hopefully spring will have sprung by then, too :)

j.

Even Grumpy Miles Count

Today's ride didn't start well. Having woken to sunshine and a vague plan to get in some steady (OK, slow) miles on my own after a short social jaunt yesterday, things began to unravel fast. By the time I'd got dressed in three-quarters and a windproof jersey the sky had darkened and I took everything off to start again with my warmest bibs, a thermal jersey and waterproof at the ready. Making extra porridge I expressed an interest in trying a route on the SatNav. I'm still finding my way around here so thought it would make sense to try and join up some places I DID know. I've only used a SatNav on my bike once before and it worked out well having my route handily placed up front, so extending my knowledge would be good - right?

Somewhere between finishing my second coffee and actually getting out the door there was a "Mummeeeeee' as I was summoned to see a particularly hysterical Total Wipeout contestant, (but then aren't they all?) Cue yet more minutes more of my life being sucked away - but really how can you walk away from Crash Mountain? And is it just me or does everyone else plan the line they'd take?

Let's gloss over not being able to find any zip ties for the SatNav, which necessitated rearranging my carefully planned pocketage of pump, money, inhaler, Shot Bloks and phone. The rain started falling when I'd progressed about a mile from home. Special freezing rain. I thought about friend John Ross who starts the Iditarod Trail Invitational today and decided it would be beyond wimpy to cut my ride short. And of course the rain got harder, as did the head wind. Honestly, I'd like to viciously document every miserable mile that passed under my wheels but then I'd have to set light to the computer to get closure. The briefest moment's happiness came ironically on a climb that was exceptionally smooth tarmac, and for a few minutes the sun waved at me too.

I would love to be able to report some life changing epiphany, a moment when, through the suffering it all came good. But that was it, the weak sunshine was followed by hail, I didn't 'ride through the pain', instead just took grim and perverse pleasure in fixing my eyes on the rain-shiny revolutions of my front tyre, knowing from experience that every groveling ascent would go towards one day in the summer when I will storm a hill somewhere and wonder 'where that came from.'

I'd given up stopping to carry out the whole performance of removing gloves, getting SatNav out of pocket, squinting at the screen through driving rain, stabbing at it hopelessly with the little thingy, working out where I'd gone wrong (through a reluctance to go through this process as often as I should in the rain), sorting out a way to rejoin my route, putting the wretched thing back before finally struggling back into soaking gloves. As a consequence I was relying on following my nose - which as anyone who's ever ridden with me will know is fatal, as I possess no sense of direction. I did try to to foil my inner (faulty) compass by consistently going the opposite way to the one I thought seemed best and finally limped home, hailstones still fresh on my jacket. No one even glanced up from their lunch as I stomped my mud splattered self up the stairs, a faintly strange feeling in the chamois being proof that even if you have the very best zip-out bum Gore tights, not getting the angle right as you hide behind a hedge, leads to unpleasant consequences.

So I'm tired now, and unhappier still because examination of my higgedly piggedly route reveals it wasn't even close to being as far as it felt. I bloody hate it when things don't come together and am taking only the tiniest comfort from the fact that even grumpy miles count.

Minx

Wheeze

I've had a run of bad luck health wise since the start of the year. A yukky flu just after New Year, followed by an equally yukky chest infection over the last few weeks have meant that I've not really been able to ride as much as I would have liked.

I thought I was well on the way to recovery, but all my good intentions of "just going for a gentle pootle" on Saturday went out the window when I woke up in the morning wheezing and coughing again. So I decided to spend my time doing something much more....tasty...


...a giant birthday crispy cake for Chris' birthday.

I promise I'll ride my bike this weekend.

Jac
x

it's all glamour.

fresh test bikes to ride always means one thing is certain: nasty, nasty weather. or, to be more accurate - nice(ish) weather that slowly leaks away whilst the hours get eaten up by emails and phonecalls until the nasty weather arrives right on cue.

this means i ride a lot in the rain, and i ride a lot in the dark. so i might as well like it.



the rain and the mud and riding home through town mostly black from head to toe feeling tired and warm. being up there with the wind howling through the trees, lights glowing across the valley, so wet you don't notice the rain anymore except for the drips on your eyelashes that catch on your cheekbones as they fall, watching tiny patches of blue sailing across the sky way up above the clouds, thinking about why the bike is doing what it does at the same time as wondering what there might be in the fridge for second supper later on...



except of course i love doing the same thing in sunshine and shorts and summertime. but that'll be here in due course. in the meantime - well, love the meantime.

j.

Running out of excuses

Sunday was "The Big Day".

Over the last week I had got more and more nervous about the race until, come Saturday night, I could hardly sleep. I usually get nervous before races, but it's usually nerves about how I'll do and whether I'll be able to do as well as I'd like to do, but it was different this time....I was nervous about whether or not I'd survive! Would I crash horribly and break everything? Would I be so slow that I'd get in everyone's way and end up causing a pile up? Or worse still, would I end up chickening out and not finishing the race?

So when I woke up on Sunday morning, I lay in bed for a few minutes taking stock...nope, my legs hadn't broken overnight, so I couldn't use that excuse. Then I went downstairs...nope, the car hadn't been stolen, so I couldn't use that excuse either. Car keys weren't lost, bike was still in one piece, shoes hadn't disappeared, hadn't run out of contact lenses, so it looked like I was going to have to do it.

It was a really cold morning, so I packed an extra few layers into my bag and then jumped into the car. As I left the house, I could see that there was a light dusting of snow on the Pentlands and on the drive down to Innerleithen, the temperature got colder and colder (could I just say that I'd not brought enough warm kit and had to go home?) and then the snow started (maybe it would be cancelled). By the time I pulled into the, already busy, car park, it was obvious that the race was on and a few folks had already started heading up the hill.

I decided to get myself organised and head up the hill as soon as I could, otherwise nerves really would get the better of me. So after a few encouraging words from Helen, I picked up my dibber from Dan and started my slow ride up the hill.

The views weren't as lovely as they had been last weekend, so my mind was racing with "what-if's" as I rode up.


Chris had volunteered to marshal at the race and was waiting for me up at the top of the hill when I got there, with offers of chocolate, cups of tea and words of encouragement. There were only a few of us at the top, so I asked the guys behind me in the queue if they wanted to go first since I'd be mincing and slow, but they said no, so I warned them again that I'd be really slow, so could they wait a wee bit before coming down? I expected this to be met with rolled eyes or groans, but they were quite happy to give me tonnes of space. Phew!

So I dibbed my dibber and set of on the first down.

Dan had taken me down this one a few weeks ago and I'd been back to play around on it last weekend, so I knew what was coming. The full on crash last week had left me a bit shaken (and with a fat lip and swollen cheek), but I forced myself to put all of that out of my mind and just focus on what I was doing. I knew there were bits I had minced badly before, so kept expecting to get to them, mince again and come off, but I found myself down at the next fireroad being dibbed in by the next marshal before I knew it. I had somehow managed to make it down the first down.

There was some chat with other riders about what was coming up next. They started talking about how difficult stage 2 was and I started to get a bit nervy again. Afterall, Dan had taken me down stage 2 and I thought it was okay...it was stage 3 I was worried about, but all the others were talking about stage 2 as if it was the trail of doom! So there must be a bit of stage 2 that Dan didn't take me down.

Since I'm very good at getting psyched out, I decided to head back up the hill again before I heard any more about stage 2 and just get it over with.

Back up at the top, I bumped into a few familiar faces and got more words of encouragement from Chris and the other marshals. A few folks headed down stage 2 in front of me, but there was nobody behind me as I dibbed again and set off.

This one was more pedally at the top but it wasn't the trail I was expecting it to be....this was what I thought was stage 3. I knew the top bit was fine, it was the middle and the bottom bit I wasn't looking forward to. There were some pretty gnarly bits coming up that I'd had to walk when Dan took me down this one, so I was waiting for those bits to come up. I rode past a couple of guys who cheered something at me (I couldn't really hear very well through the full face helmet, so who knows what they said, but I'm fairly certain it was something encouraging). I managed to avoid the urge to grab big handfuls of brake and next thing I knew I'd reached the end of the middle bit and was greeted by cheers from the marshals and medics....I'd somehow managed to ride all the bits I'd had to walk the other week!

I knew I couldn't ride the bottom bit though. It was near vertical, loose, greasy and, quite frankly, bloomin' scary! So I rode as far as I could and then made use of all the cyclocross riding I've done, jumped of and slipped and slid down to a slightly less vertical bit before jumping back on to ride down to the waiting marshal and dibber at the bottom.

I'd made the trail of doom without crashing horribly!

The ride back up to the top for my final down was a long climb. There weren't many people around, so I had the forest to myself for the 30 or so minute amble back. After a few minutes of riding, I realised I was smiling and humming away to myself. I had one more down and I knew the last one (which I had thought was stage 2) was going to be a good one.

Back up at the top, there were still a lot of people just setting off on their first down, but Chris was still there with shouts of encouragement and offers of chocolate (I don't think everyone was offered chocolate though!).

Final dib and I was off.

The top section was straightforward enough, then across the fireroad, down the steep drop in to the fast, rooty, wiggly, tree dodging section. I knew there were bits on this section I had struggled with, like the massive drop offs (okay, maybe not massive, but they seemed massive to me) and the steep switchbacks, but again I managed to avoid the urge to grab handfuls of brakes and shut my eyes, and I forced myself to ride the first big drop off and the next few were suddenly much less scary.

Then I rode past a marshal who blew his whistle. Not being used to the whole downhill thing, I assumed that meant I had to get out of the way, so I pulled over, jumped off the bike and looked around to see the fast guys come past, but nobody came. So I hung around for a little bit, shrugged and then got back on the bike. A little bit further down, another marshal whistled at me, so again, I got out of the way, but nobody came past me. So when I passed the next whistling marshal, I decided to just keep going. By this time I could see the bottom, but managed to slide on a particularly greasy corner and gracefully sit down beside a tree....right in front of the girls with cameras.

Luckily it was only the girls who saw and they just cheered encouragement at me, so I jumped back on, round the final few lovely bermed corners, round the tree and to the final marshal to dib for the final time.

I had made it and not only was I still in one piece, but I was grinning like a looney and had really enjoyed myself.

I rolled up to the timing tent to be welcomed back by Helen and Dan who ware both eagre to hear what I thought of the course and how I'd got on. I got my final times and my hoodie (my prize for being one of the first females to enter the race), which was very welcome since it had got properly cold by this time.

I managed to get changed and watch the last few riders come down (whilst gibbering away excitedly to my friend Jo and telling her all about my heroics and adventures - sorry Jo, I must have been a real bore!) before the prize giving. Unfortunately, because it was so cold, most folks had headed off as soon as they'd finished their race, but I hung around and found out that not only was I not dead last, but I'd managed to come 4th!

My aim had been to get down the hill in one piece, without crashing or getting in everyone's way or chickening out. In the end, I was so glad that my excuses had all fallen through because if I'd used the excuses, I wouldn't have had nearly as much fun.

I'm not sure that I'm ready to take up Helen's offer to do the mini downhill in a few weeks time, but I think I'll have to invest in a full face helmet of my own once I give Jenn back the one she loaned to me (even if they're not the most flattering look for me!), and I think I'll go out to play at Innerleithen a bit more.
Jac
x

2 weeks today

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybYsLxcGq8E&feature=player_embedded

So excited.

F

Oops

How can you enter a race by mistake? That's just ridiculous!

Well, you might think so, but it's easier than you might imagine...I should know, because it looks like that's what I've managed to do.

I spent most of last week ill in bed with the flu feeling very sorry for myself. When I started to feel a wee bit better, I decided that I needed to start setting myself some targets for this year. So, I started jotting down some ideas of rides I really want to do (some of which I'd planned to do last year but ended up not doing for various reasons), some places I wanted to visit, some friends I need to catch up with and so on.

Then Chris suggested I enter the Innerleithen Enduro at the end of this month. "What is it?" I asked..."Like it says, it's an enduro at Innerleithen. Dan's organising it."

I figured I might as well.

Then I got an e-mail from Dan asking if I wanted any coaching before the race. Again, I thought I might as well take him up on the offer. He's planning the course, so it would be good to get some tips from him.

So, Dan picked me up this morning and we headed down to Innerleithen to ride the course and get an idea of what it's all about. It became obvious on the drive down that it wasn't an enduro in the sense that I'm used to...this one is a downhill enduro.

At this point, I should point out that I've never done any downhilling in my life, never mind done a downhill race! But, I thought I might be able to make up some time on the climbs and mince my way down the downhill bits....nope, that's not an option either...the climbs aren't part of the race.

It turns out that the format of the race is that we start at the bottom carpark and ride / push / walk / crawl right up to the top of the hill and ride the first, timed, downhill section back down to the bottom. Then ride back up to the top to ride the second, different, timed section. Back up to the top again to ride the final, timed, downhill section.

Dan explained this as we were riding up to the top the first time and I started to realise what I'd got myself into.

We spent the next few hours messing about on different bits of the course, trying bits time and again until I cleared it, Dan talking me through how to ride the really techy bits (whilst I figured out exactly where I'd have to jump off the bike and run), and generally giving me an idea of what the course is all about.

So I've got next weekend to head back down to Innerleithen to have another go before the race. I might have to try to squeeze in some night rides and play about on the big bike to figure out how it works.

I've looked over the entry list, but since I've never done any downhilling, none of the names mean anything to me (except Crawford Carrick-Anderson), so I've got no idea what I'll be up against. Since my main aim for the day will be just to get down the hill three times in one piece, I think there's a pretty good chance that I'll manage to do the race in a record slow time, so maybe I should be practicing jumping off the bike and getting out of fast people's way.

Now I just have to try to get hold of a full face helmet!

Jac
x

challenges

braver friends are busy doing 30 in 30.

stuff that, 3 in 3 will do me for now.



one: bimble up the valley and back to spectate at the excellent todcross. watching strong riders struggling to haul themselves up the chimay cobbles of doom confirmed i'd made the right decision to watch and not take part. no love for racing this time around.



two: round delamere with friends. fresh trails and fresh air, a happy amount of trees, flowing singletrack, a bit of sunshine. smiles, giggles and lots and lots (and lots) of cake. delicious.



three: road ride, the longer usual loop that has been beyond reach for a while. along, down, drag, up, down, up, along. all safely in the bubble of light and faith that i know and love.

good beginnings.

j.

Cross at the Castle

This weekend was saw the final two races in the Scottish Cyclocross series at Glengorm Castle on the Isle of Mull.

We've had some pretty awful weather over the past few weeks, so we weren't sure how many folks would be able to make it, or if we'd be able to make it. After the Scottish Champs being cancelled the weekend before, and a race being cancelled the weekend before that, we'd lost a bit of momentum. However, we had a bit of a thaw on Thursday last week and decided that we'd try to get there.

Chris and I both managed to take a half day from work on Friday so managed to make the drive up to Oban in daylight. We didn't have to worry about the roads at all - there was no snow or ice on the roads at all (only small piles at the side of the road). By the time we got over to Mull it was dark, but there was no snow in sight - in fact, at 7 degrees, it felt almost like summer after the cold weather we've been having at home.

Saturday was an early start for us to get up to the race site, set up the timing system, help with sign on and course marking and then before I knew it, I had to run off and get changed to fit in a practice lap before my race.

The course on Saturday was probably the driest I've ever raced on Mull! Yes, there was quite a lot of mud and water, but not the hub deep stuff we usually have to race through. Although it was drizzling and a bit damp, it wasn't too cold and the views out over to Ardnamurchan were as breathtaking as ever.

Although there weren't huge numbers of riders, there was some really good racing in all categories. The series winners were already decided, but second, third and further down the field were up for grabs, so for some riders, there was everything to go for.

I've not had a great season, but being back on Mull, seeing the views at the front of the castle, got me going and somehow my legs did me proud. I wasn't top 3, but I had a very respectable ride and felt quietly pleased with how I'd done.

On Saturday night, most of the racers joined some of the Tobermory locals at the Christmas ceilidh at Aros Hall. Despite the hard racing during the day, there was plenty of ceilidh dancing (and a fair bit of beer too!).

Sunday morning came round a bit too quickly and Chris and I had to head back up to the castle early doors to help Davie set things up for Sunday's race - the final race in the series and the Santa Cross World Championships. To compete in the Santa Cross Champs, which forms part of the Scottish Cyclocross Series, you need to dress like Santa. Not all the riders wore Santa outfits for Sunday's race (and so didn't qualify for the champs), but about 80% of us did, so the race was on again!

Sunday's morning was very different to Saturday - it had got very cold overnight and the temperature was well below zero, leaving the ground was frozen hard. Even the muddy bits were mostly frozen. So the racing was much faster on Sunday and as we rode past Cow Belle Corner at the front of the castle, we were all cheered on with shouts of "Go Santa" or "Go Mrs Claus".

Again, my race seemed to come together and for the first time all season, I was able to keep up with the riders I've been desperate to catch all season and even managed to get past some of them. No podium, but the racing started to feel like it did a couple of years ago, so I'm quietly hoping that it's all coming back again.

So that's the Scottish Cross series over for another year. It's been a good one with lots of good racing, some new courses and more pretty bikes to check out. We've had a few disappointments too...2 cancelled races and a champs that's been postponed until January. But all in all, it's been another good season and there's been lots of smiles and fun along the way.

My cross bike's looking a bit sorry for itself now and is going to need a bit of TLC over the next few weeks to get it back in shape. One thing's for sure, the cross bug's back, so the bike won't be left to gather dust in the shed until next October! (Although if we get the bad weather they're forecasting for the end of this week, it might have to rest for a few more days.)

Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes...

...and my fingers and feet and lights and bell...

After a week of having to commute to work by bus and trudge several miles through the snow every day to catch the bus last week, I was fed up and desperate to get out on my bike (even if it was just to commute) so last night I decided that, no matter what, I was going to cycle to work today.

So I dug out my toastiest winter kit, packed up my pannier and went to bed happy in the knowledge that I wasn't going to have to sit on a bus in the morning. The weather forecast was for some light snow flurries, but generally just cold.

This morning I woke up and no more snow had fallen (none of the foot or so in the garden or in our street had gone either mind you), so got myself ready for riding to work. Then just as I was going out the front door at 7.20, it started to snow a bit.

Although it snowed most of the way to work it was quite light, so quite pleasant. The roads were pretty quiet too, so I smiled all the way in. Then just as I reached the gates at work, it got a bit heavier. Phew! I thought. Made it just in time.

Well, that's what I thought!

It just kept snowing and snowing! At 2 o'clock, we were all advised to start making our way home. All of the buses and trains in the Edinburgh area had been cancelled, the motorways were all grid locked because of snow, the Forth Road Bridge was closed and most of the local schools were closing again.

Most of my colleagues either had the prospect of a 2 or 3 hour walk home into Edinburgh or being completely stranded at work.

The roads were surprisingly quiet on the way back into the city, but because everyone was trying to get home at the same time, the roads out were at a standstill. I wasn't quite sure how my tyres would cope in the slushy / snowy icky stuff on the roads, but they coped better than most of the cars which were getting stuck at every set of traffic lights. Aside from a few exciting slides, the only problem I had was that my gears froze and my freewheel kept freezing.

All I can say is hurrah for winter boots (my new, un-holey ones arrived on Friday), amFib tights and bicycles!

An adventurous weekend

What a few days. Just had to share.

Saturday I raced an eight hour adventure race in the New Forest. I knew from the first 100 metres that I was in trouble. Stuart Lynch had stepped in at the last minute to race with us after our team mate was injured. He's the ex World Champ and one of the world's leading racers. He flew. I panted. We (my fella and me) spent 3 and a half hours trailing 30 metres behind him on the run. The bike wasn't so bad. I could keep up. Just. Flat out. Freezing cold. Exciting. Loved it.

On Sunday morning we were stiff and a bit sore, but at 8 on the dot, Stuart arrived at our flat, along with Adidas Terrex team member Mark, who I'm going to Patagonia with in February for a 7 day expedition race (http://www.patagonianexpeditionrace.com/). We were going paddling and then mtbing. I was desperately trying to clean our bikes, but the hose pipe was frozen and I was out of time. The bikes went on top of the car, still damp...

After a bit of faffing we set off on the paddle from Rhos on Wye (Why) down to Bigsweir. It was -7. We watched the ice form on our cags and along the shafts of our paddles. The kayaks were covered in a film of ice. The rudder stopped working. It was beautiful. People stared.

At Bigsweir we left the boats in a ditch and walked to the car to change into bike kit. A bit of motivational discussion was required to carry on, and we had to take one of the bikes apart and spray everything with de-icer before it would work! But we carried on.

A hot chocolate later at Clearwell Caves and it was dark. So we rode on through The Forest of Dean, hooning through the frosty singletrack. It was beautiful, peaceful, freezing and magical. I loved every second.

Monday morning and I was grateful to be going to work (via the osteopath). As I was getting my quads pummeled, I received a call from my boss. "Fi, meet me at Chepstow, I'm riding with Rob Penn." We met Rob at a book event a few weeks ago and he is interested in our research (into the image of cycling).

So I drove home, changed back into my warm kit and headed out on the bike. I rode 2 and a half hours in -5 degrees. My third mad day in a row. Writing this on Tuesday I can't believe I'm still alive. The training is obviously paying off. I am working out when I can get out running again!

2 months til Patagonia. Bring it on!

F

Bbbrrrrrr

This weekend was meant to be a double header in the Scottish cyclocross calendar with two races in Glasgow, but because of a last minute change in requirements of the local council, Sunday's race had to be cancelled. The situation didn't go down too well with the racers since this was the second race to have been cancelled at late notice in this series.

However, disappointment aside, Saturday's race was quite an event!

Most of the UK has seen quite a bit of snow over the last week, but central Scotland escaped the worst of it until Friday night. We woke up to a few light centimetres of white stuff on Saturday morning.

We've had plenty of very cold cross races in Scotland, but no snowy ones that anyone could remember. Saturday saw cold and snow.

Since I was helping out with lap counting for the first few races, I didn't have to strip off to my cycling kit until just before my race, which was a good job...it was freezing!

I eventually had to shed my puffy and several base layers, just before my race to fit in a quick practice lap. Well, actually, it wasn't so quick! I rode around with a few other riders and we all exchanged anxious glances as we got back to the start line. Although the temperature was below freezing, the sun had softened up the ground on sections of the course and created a sort of snowy-slushy mud which had the consistency of wallpaper paste.

Although the course had no real technical features, it proved to be a really challenging race. Frozen brakes turned the descents into icy/muddy skid fests and saw the course tape broken all over the places as riders careered through the tape at the corners and the bottom of descents. The slushy mud made the climbs feel like everything had gone into slow motion - I was pedalling for all I was worth, but was just inching forward through the brown, muddy snow. Then frozen gears meant that I (along with lots of other riders) had to finish the race in completely the wrong gear because I couldn't change gears any more! Mind you, running proved to be the easiest way to get round bits of the course anyhow.

I've never done a cross race where I've managed to do so few laps, but this was a toughie! There were lots of cold, broken people on the finish line, all asking the same question - "How did I manage to do so few laps?"

I quickly put back on all the layers I'd taken off to do the race and went back to lap counting - relieve not to have to be riding round the course any more, but wishing I could be somewhere much warmer.

By the time we eventually got home, I found that I'd managed to get frost nip on my left foot, so I was relieved not to have to go out and race again today. Instead I spent the day watching the snow fall outside....I'm not sure we'd have been able to get to the race today even if we had wanted to!

Since I'm commissaire at next weekend's race, the Scottish champs, I won't be racing again until the grand finale of the series on Mull at the start of December. I think I'll spend the next few weeks investigating those foot warming techniques Jenn mentioned earlier!

Jac
x

foursome

Not a whole lot of adventuring going on at the moment, more plodding round the same old loops when time and wellness allow and more waiting for winter proper to arrive (hurry up snow). None of which makes for good reading. So, inspired by Ira (who makes beautiful bikes and thinks a lot about adventures, and makes me think about them too every time his words pop up in my reader), here are four things which make winter better.



I went to Minnesota in February to cover the Arrowhead Ultra and learnt a lot about surviving cold weather. Since then I've pretty much given up on winter boots: I've tried all of them and none of them work for more than two hours, so the current long ride set up includes two pairs of socks, a pair of oversized Sealskins with a hole cut in the bottom, overshoes and a sheet of reflective insulation, plus a possible bright spark of an idea which involves sewing/sticking a pair of overshoes to a pair of tights and seeing if I can make the whole thing watertight (Yorkshire nights are long). For shorter rides when I don't want to deal with the whole clumsy mess, chemical shoe warmers are the answer. Toasty, simple, great. Except I've nearly run out of the American imports so need to source some hideously expensive UK ones. Damn.



Embrocation. If you're lucky enough to be able to use the full strength stuff without volcanic skin eruption then consider yourself blessed (and try putting it on the back of your hands/top of your feet - The Enforcer swears it works better than wool). If you can't, like me, then La Gazzetta Della Bici's Verde oil is ace: much milder, smells gorgeous and still does a good job of loosening things up if you will insist on going out in knickers when the temperature is hovering around freezing because your legs look better in them than they do in tights. It adds another layer to the particular smell of a cyclist's home, too: lemony-eucalyptus, WD40, Persil and something slow-cooking in the oven. Lovely to open the front door to.



My sheepskin boots were a gift from a dear friend who clearly knows me very well (or has just been on the receiving end of my icy feet one too many times). They get worn pretty much every day of autumn, winter and spring and have been known to make the odd trip to the post office by mistake. Yes, they're granny-esque but they're warmer and much tougher than either slippers or Uggs. They've saved me dropping screwdrivers, a hammer and the filleting knife through my toes on various occasions, too. Maybe they should make a steelie version for cosy workshop use.



Proper tea in a proper tea pot. Another gift from another friend and one which has weaned me off my bad coffee habit. At least until elevenses time, anyway. Rituals are one thing (kettle on whilst I potter about in PJs, pot brewing whilst I get washed and dressed, tea drunk with the three-biscuit breakfast over the sifting of the inbox, flickr and twitter of a morning), pleasure is another (Booths have a fabulous English Breakfast blend, not so keen on the Russian from the new shop in town but really looking forward to cracking open the "espresso of teas" Assam). Bone china for breakfast, pint mug at teatime.

Simple pleasures.

j.

SSWC10NZ

Where to start?

I've never been more east than Eastern Europe and I've always, always wanted to go to New Zealand, but it was always just that bit too far to go and I just couldn't find enough justification to spend that much time sitting in a plane. That was until the Singlespeed Worlds for 2010 were announced and they were in Rotorua, New Zealand.

All of a sudden, a trip to NZ to visit my aunt and uncle, see the country I've always wanted to see, catch up with some friends and ride a race seemed like the perfect honeymoon for Chris and I (okay, so it was a year after we got married, but we never were all that conventional!).

So after months of planning, we left work early on a Friday night and headed off to catch a flight to Auckland via Heathrow and Hong Kong.

The journey out was fairly uneventful and passed relatively quickly (I say relatively, because 24 hours sitting in a plane can only go so quickly). The most exciting bit, other than actually landing in Auckland, was probably landing in Hong Kong. Looking out the window, it looked just like something out of Swallows and Amazons... little craggy, tree covered islands popping up through the sea mist and little, brightly coloured fishing boats bobbing about just below us. A definite note to self to try to go back and spend more than 4 hours in the airport there!

Anyway, we got to Auckland, a bit sleepy, but generally ready to go. We only spent one night in Auckland before picking up our ace campervan and heading down to Rotorua.

We had 5 days in Rotorua before the race and spent most of them doing tourist stuff with my aunt and uncle or riding around in Whakarewarewa forest, where the race was going to be.

The town of Rotorua is different to anywhere else I've been before. It's in a volcanic (live volcanic) caldera and so has lots of thermal stuff going on. From bubbling, steaming hot pools of water in the town centre, to stinky bubbling mud pools, to the infamous sulphur point. Riding around town and seeing steam coming up through the ground, or rising up from a clump of trees in the park is very different to riding around town here in Edinburgh, that's for sure! Oh, and the black swans swimming around on the lake are very different to the swans we have here in Holyrood Park.


The only word to describe the riding in Whakarewarewa is awsome! The forest is massive - a combination of managed pine forest, giant redwoods and natural bush. There are also over 100k of bike specific trails in the forest which are maintained by Rotorua Mountain Bike Club.

The trails are all graded in a similar way to the trails here, from beginners trails to black "expert" trails and the National DH course and they're all really well marked, so it's pretty tough to get lost. It is, however, very easy to end up out in the forest for a lot longer than you had intended because it's so difficult not to ride just one more trail just to see what it's like...and, oh, we might as well do that one now that we're here.

The mix of trails, terrain and technicality was incredible. All singletrack, some of it buff and swoopy, some of it mad and fast, some of it lung busting climbing, some of it heart-in-mouth descending, but all of it fantastic! It was just like riding through tropical forest with tree ferns (Ponga trees apparently) and palm like cabbage trees alongside sequioas.



Race day was Saturday and it's possibly the busiest singlespeed race I've ever been to. With over 900 riders there were a lot of people and a lot of interesting bikes. Saturday was the first properly hot day since we had arrived in New Zealand, so it was off with the arm and knee warmers before we headed to the start. The race start wasn't the usual Le Mans, bike hiding thing of most SS races. Instead we had to do a kind of NAScar thing...900 folks riding around in a circle, very slowly for 2 minutes until someone quietly opened up the tape and riders started piling off up the first bit of track.

The trail started with a bit of a witch of a sandy climb which saw most riders off and pushing, especially since the traffic was very slow moving. The climb was worth it though, since we were straight into a bit of fast decent which had most folks grabbing bunches of brake.

From then on the trail got quieter and much more fun. I decided to opt out of all the beer shortcuts, only because it seemed a shame not to ride all of the trail. I managed to find a bunch of blokes to ride round with who were about my pace and skill level, so we kept egging eachother on to ride the techy stuff and make it up the climbs. After the first lap, I was completely out of water, so I had to stop at the beer stop and drink a beer to be able to get some water. (No! It's not just an excuse!).

Most folks didn't go out for a second lap, so there were none of the traffic jams I'd come across on the first lap and I could go as fast (or as slow) as I liked down the techy descents. I managed to clear everything on both laps and was feeling pretty pleased with myself until I got the the watersplash almost at the end of my second lap. I got through the water, up the little slope on the other side and then started down the sloppy descent back towards the fire road just as my uncle jumped out and shouted "Go on Jac!". I looked round to see where he was and lost it. Luckily he had a camera and managed to catch it all on film...

Just around the corner I rolled into the finish area to be handed a beer and catch up with everyone to share the usual post race stories and watch the decider for next year's Worlds. That also gave me the opportunity to check out some of the fantastic costumes. Those of you who know Damo will be pleased to see that he really outdid himself this year...


The decider was a sort of horizontal bungee where the contestants had to stretch the bungee as far as they could and place a beer can the furthest from the start. You'll be pleased to hear that the team from Ireland won, so we'll be going to Ireland next year and hopefully I'll see some of you there too.

There's a lot more to tell and a lot more pics to share from our NZ trip, but I'll save that for later.

Jac
x

Rob Penn

Last night, a crowd of us went to see Rob Penn speak at Waterstones. I've read his book, 'It's All About the Bike' and found it really interesting and rather inspiring. This guy is Seriously Passionate. He wrote about the history of the bicycle, right from it's crank-less, chain-less, odd-wheeled early days right the way through to the sleek carbon shiney days of now.

Rob is a down to earth guy. He swears, he giggles, he speaks with fire in his eyes. He loves his bike and loved the process of building it - by visiting each and every manufacturer individually in person and selecting the finest components whilst gaining a history of the company and a patchwork history of the bicycle.

I'd recommend to anyone.

But what of the colour? Well he knows its controversial. His eyes turned down and glanced at his paper when he got on to the subject. People hate it. Almost everyone, he said, hates it. Apart from him. And that's the point. The frame was designed for him and every component selected after careful though. For him. It is a weird looking machine because we're used to seeing a certain style of bike these days - angles and smoothness in the right places. He's got carbon forks on a steel frame and carbon handlebars and carbon brakes on a bike with a Brooks saddle and hand built wheels. It is eclectic, and so much love and thought went into it. For that reason, I think it's beautiful.