simple things.

mad light.


good bikes.


big skies.


living here.

j.

48

I've tried my hand at soloing some 24's, some 12's and some 10's, so when someone suggested I have a go at a 48 this week, I had to give it a go. 48 minutes that is.

Last night, a group of locals (Scottish Cycling, Edinburgh Road Club and the Tri Centre) put on a 48 minute dirt crit on a local(ish) country park. It was a 7.15 start, so we had a bit of a mad rush to get there after work, but we made it in time to see the end of the under 14's race and have a quick practice lap before we set off.

The format was pretty much like a cross race.... as many laps of a short course as you can do in 48 minutes. In hind sight, my cross bike might have been a better bike choice, but the Spot's at the top of the heap at the moment, so it was the first one to hand in the mad dash to get out the door.

It was a fast, swoopy, grassy, muddy, steppy, uppy, downy course, some short sharp ups, some fast, lumpy downs (with some hucks if you got it right) and no respite at all! It was fab! I managed to make 3rd place in the ladies race which was great, but the two girls in front of me were, well...I was old enough to be their mother, which was less great!

Chris managed to win a tub of cookies for riding the steps on the course and we got some beer from our friend Andy, so all round, not a bad Tuesday evening!

Roll on the cross season (I might have to do some fettling with the bike this weekend though).

Jac
x

Happy Campers

Fi writes:
I am camping in my own flat. Or that's how it feels. I have just got back from the Trans Wales (rain, sun, mud, climbing, sheep, old friends) and am packing for the Terrex, a 4 day non-stop expedition adventure race in the Lake District. There are piles of kit all over the flat and friends in the AR world are posting pictures of their houses on Facebook, covered in equal amounts of kit. Eventually each bit will be pared down and split into stuff sacks, labelled and stored in a massive duffel.

I am excited. I've been ill so still have the slightly shakey remnants of an undiagnosed virus but nevertheless am excited. I've never raced for 4 days non stop before. 250k biking, 100k running/trekking and 65k paddling. And Other Stuff. Climbing, abseilling, Other Stuff. Can't wait.

And the best thing about this race is that I get to do it in a team of 4. 3 boys, one of whom is my fella. The feeling of shared excitement, shared pain, shared exhaustion and shared experience is so valuable. Sunsets are always more beautiful when you have someone to gasp with, and tiredness always more bearable when you have someone who understands just what it feels like to not sleep for 3 days.

I'll let you know how it goes. Better get on with decanting the 12 tins of rice pudding and 8 tins of spagetti hoops into plastic jars.

stoke.

i.

am.

knackered.



busy busy busy of late. no bad thing, but the last thing on my mind as i drag myself out of bed in the morning and through a day's work is getting on a bike at the end of it.

still, though, i find myself thrown into the company of a particular band of folks, and loving it. all good riders, all enthusiastic and encouraging, and all thoroughly possessed of the stoke.

stoke /stoʊk/
–verb
1. to poke, stir up, and feed (a fire).
2. to tend the fire of (a furnace, esp. one used with a boiler to generate steam for an engine); supply with fuel.

spend enough time in the presence of the right sort of stoke and it has a habit of rubbing off on you.

so yes, the weather has been shit. yes, it has greyed, rained. poured. and yes, apart from a brief cold-stops-play hiatus, i've been riding trails every single day and loved every minute of it. even the bits where my legs are filled with acid and concrete and my vision has blurred with sweat or tears and i simply cannot get in enough food to stop the spots dancing because i really, really should be at home having a rest.

i love the trails that i have come home to. i love that in the brief time i was away i learnt new methods of approach and have a new belief in what i can do. what i want to do.



i love that the thought of riding my bike tomorrow makes me smile.

j.

TransWales Approaches (first 4 days only)

Saturday morning. Grab and stuff stuff into a bag. Make sure arm warmers, socks and jerseys coordinate. Remember recovery drink plus denim mini skirt to wear over compression tights. Never sacrifice style for being sensible (or speed, safety or anything much else).

Saturday afternoon. Curse at bridge toll. Arrive Wales, dump bags in Builth. Drive to Cwmsomethingorother and pedal back to Builth.

Saturday evening. Drink one to many.

Sunday to Wednesday. Pedal lots. Up, down, up, down, rain, sun, rain, sun, sleep, eat, sleep, eat. Laugh lots. Nice photos. More fun memories. Forget. All. About. Work. Locate car in Cwm-s-or-o. Drive home.

Thursday. Remember all about work again. Feel like we've been away for weeks.

The Open 24 Adventure Race. North Wales. July, 2010.

The Open 24 took over our house. My boyfriend Andy was the ‘planner’ and I was racing it. He had to keep the details secret so I was often banished from the room as he schemed with Open Adventure boss James about what the 62 pairs of racers would get up to. 24 hours is a long time and a lot of adventure could be had.

As it happened, 24 hours wasn’t enough and there was a prologue to the 2010 edition of the Open 24; a swim across Rhoscolyn bay followed by an hour of exhilarating coasteering. “Look at the horizon. Cross your arms. Then jump into the swell”. Horizon. Rock. Spray. Sea. Plunge.

At the end of the coasteering course we were ferried by speedboat (RIB) across the waves to Rhosneigr. Gripping hard to the handles on the boat. “Don’t let go”. Heart thumping in your ears, fixed grin, involuntary squeals, teeth chattering against the chill and the excitement.

And the race hadn’t even started.

We stripped off our wetsuits in the drizzly slipway, stirring quite a few bemused looks from the kitesurfers and dogwalkers. Andy battled against the wind and his distracted audience to deliver the pre-race briefing. “It’s Plan B. Plan A has been cancelled due to the weather, so it’s plan B. Does everyone understand?” Yes. No sea kayaking. More cycling. We packed our race bags and then lined up for an underwhelming chasing start on the beach.

The exhilaration of the prologue faded fast as we hit the lanes of Angelsea for the hastily organised ‘lane quest’ of Plan B. Pedalling into Newborough Forest we were pleased to get off the bikes and enjoy a trail run through the trees and out across the sand to the lighthouse. But then it was more bikes, more lanes, more drizzle.

The kayak spiced things up. Rarely is there kayaking in UK adventure races, and even rarer is there kayaking when the weather puts paid to Plan A. The Menai Straights may not be the most exciting stretch of water, but it was lovely being in the boat, feeling the waves underneath the hull and resting our leg muscles.

Far too soon it was biking again and a full 9 hours after the start we crawled up the final hill to Ogwen Cottage and the evening transition. Plenty of racers were milling around, gearing themselves up for the night, going through kit check and contemplating their route. Andy and James were nervous about the night trek, and with good reason. They had returned from putting out checkpoints earlier that week drenched through, exhausted, sore and tired. They were scared that racers would feel they were just nipping up the Glydrs and that it ‘must be safe, it’s a race’. Them Glydrs is big, and at night and in the clag, can be treacherous.

The night trek was by far my favourite stage. After a steep and sweaty climb up Ygarn and into the dusk, we wrapped up against the penetrating cloud and settled into a steady pace, concentrating on our torch light and picking clear and sensible lines through the rockfall and then boggy grass. 5 hours of trekking, 4 hours of total darkness. We stumbled upon other racers, held brief conversations and then were left alone with our own breathing. Slipping and jumping down Devil’s Kitchen took all concentration and focus, then another steep climb up towards Tryfan, slurping water from the streams as we went. Night made the mountains bigger and the race didn’t matter. It was fresh and empty and beautiful.

I realised we were faring well at the next transition. We jogged in and quickly changed back into bike kit, snatching a shake and a sandwich. In the light of my Maxx D I could see racers sitting on the gravel floor, tending bruised and blistered feet, looks of broken exhaustion on their faces. It had been 14 hours now since the start. Still 10 to go. Let’s keep moving.

The bike stage was short and fast through forestry tracks and down into Dolwyddelan. Easy points clocking up. The regular beep of the dibber. Satisfying. Then the final trek stage was upon us. We knew this would hurt the most. Tired feet trudged up through endless logging tracks and fireroad, cool grey morning draining the colour from the landscape. We pushed just hard enough to move quickly but never fast enough to feel like we were really racing. Another final push up a steep rooty track, overtaking other teams, half asleep and pushing down on their knees with gloved hands. We were out on the moors and enjoyed a tussocky descent through deserted slate mines into the deep mine special stage at Rhiw Bach.

How did our forefathers work down mines? We slipped down into the belly of the earth, freezing water rushing over our numb feet, hands feeling for grip along the slippery tunnel walls. The pick marks and the metal rails were still there, echos of an industry not long died out. For half an hour we rushed around underground searching for checkpoints, before being spat out the bottom of the mine into the tropical heat of a Welsh Sunday morning.
One stage left.

4 large hills loomed on the final bike leg before we could roll over the finish line at Betws-y-Coed. Hill one hurt. Snickers. A gel. Some water. Either the sugar intake of the descent on Penmachno’s rocky singletrack trails did the trick. Climb 2 was easier. A final orienteering special stage had us ripping through deep undergrowth for an hour, giggling at the bramble scratches round our ankles. We shared a grin with friends racing against us and then pushed off. One hour left.

Tiredness had come and gone that morning. When we left the mine, my eyes were gritty
and red-ringed. But as the heat of the day picked up, so did my energy levels and with an hour to go I felt like I could carry on all day. With fifteen minutes to go, we rolled under the finish banner, greeted by a sheepish looking Andy and an exhausted looking James. Racers were lying on the grass all around us, sipping tea, munching on sandwiches, swapping stories. Eagerly awaiting the results.

I lay my bike down on its side and knelt on the warm grass. I stripped off my sweat-soaked top and wiped some mud from around my eyes and the sweat from my cheeks. The journey was complete. We had run, paddled, biked, explored. And I felt the warm comforting feeling of my eyes closing as I lay on the grass.

Series Results (The Open 24 was the last race in the 3-race series):
Female Pairs ::
1st Barbara Lonsdale/Jackie Scarf
2nd Jenny Allen/Judith Hughes
3rd Liz Barlow/Sally Ozanne

Male Pairs ::
1st Tom Gibbs/John Houlihan (Adidas Terrex)
2nd Andy Mitchell/Phil Scarf
3rd Kim Collison/Neil Hamblin

Mixed Pairs ::
1st Steve Fisher/Fi Spotswood (Team For Goodness Shakes! AR)
2nd Chris Morgan/Anna Sloan
3rd Emily Brooks/Jake Morgan (Planet Fear)

Thanks to: For Goodness Shakes! USE Exposure Lights, Squirt Lubes, Spoke Shirts, James Kirby Photography. www.openadventure.com.

long days.

holiday tales, a little overdue.

so: to the alps. an open week, bookended by a flight to geneva at one end and an appointment with alp d'huez at the other. what to do, what to do...

find panniers, fettle steed. buy maps, twice. dispatch work and family crisis. overly complicate journey to airport. board plane. heave big sigh of relief.

except, as ever, it took two grey, humid, windy, miserable days of difficult navigation and lakeside traffic and struggling to make my thoughts heard above the din to realise that i really wasn't in a holiday sort of mood. plans were only developed as far as a line on a map. cols cou, perret and colombiere fell rapidly and it was only afterwards i realised i'd been there before and it wasn't much fun then, either.

so, a day off - sleeping, eating, drinking, reading - then resume.


calmer, quieter. hot days demand early starts and so the rhythm comes. up with the blue skies, pack up, climb a mountain, take a picture, ride down the other side to breakfast, and repeat. the beauty of point to point riding, covering any amount of purposeful distance under your own power, is not in the achievement at the end of it, but the peace attained whilst in the midst of it. ride, eat, sleep: it's that simple.

i think i've mentioned this before.

experiences aren't remembered as a convenient narrative. at least not in my head, anyway. instead, they become a collection of snapshots, as much to do with touch and feel as sight and sound. words and pictures.

beaufort.


marmot.


storms.


sweetness.


aravis.


roselend.


iseran.


galibier.


snow.


sun.


tradition.


travellers.


peace.


quiet.


more travels. more adventures. time rides on.

j.

thirty degrees.

home from travels and trying to readjust. much-needed peace and quiet in the midst of total chaos and some new experiences which themselves will lead to more.

of which, more later - but for now it's enough just to be reminded what seventeen consecutive days of sunshine feels like.

hint: warm.



j.

Minxes up mountains

OK, so no bike in sight, but I had a fantastic run round The Black Mountains on Sunday so thought I'd share. This is me reading a map. I should have known it would be 'up'. Always is!

And I've just had some fantastic news that I wanted to share because I need advice - I've been accepted into the 3 Peaks Cyclo Cross race. Any survivors out there who have some top tips?

Off to North Wales tomorrow for a week of studying and yomping up mountains on wheels or foot. If the weather clears we'll be climbing tomorrow evening. Can't wait!

F
x

Meals on wheels

It's OK to take all the leftover pasta for lunch when you've commuted by bike. Isn't it?

Vikki

Are you tough enough?

What a great weekend! I went over to Kent - to Rye - for a very old friend's wedding. Thinking 'I won't know anyone else who's there, so it'll be an early night', I entered the 'Are You Tough Enough' Army Cycling Union 6 hour enduro the next day.

As is the way of these things, I ended up drinking too much champagne and arrived in very sunny Bracknell with a seriously dry mouth, no pedals and a bag full of squashed and disorganised kit.

Stuff got sorted (can't really remember doing it myself, but must have) and the race kicked off. The first lap was waaaay too fast and I was breathing like a steam train, so peeled it right back. I wasn't fussed about 'racing' and was riding with a camelbak for adventure race training - getting those back muscles nice and worked!

The singletrack was supersweet - no straight lines and lots of fast bermed corners and dust. We were caked in red-brown dust, which stuck to our sweat, snot and suncream. At one point a guy I'd been leapfrogging with over took me and I looked at his face as we exchanged a few words and it suddenly occurred to me for the first time that I might also look like a bourbon biscuit dunked in chocolate shavings.

The ride only became painful when excrutiating hot spots on my feet made standing very difficult. Until then I'd be riding out the saddle, attacking the climbs and working the corners hard. I rode the last few laps like a sack of potatoes. But by then I'd realised no one was chasing so I could relax and ended up climbing off with half an hour to go to drink tea and eat the pain au chocolate I'd sneaked from the B&B that morning.

I'd recommend this enduro - great course, lovely atmosphere and awesome prizes. And, which is tremendously exciting, I saw a snake on the trail! Only a little one but I nearly ran him over and screamed as I swerved to avoid it!

Fi

Puffer Lite

Puffer Lite



2 weekends ago I tested my mettle again. This time at Puffer Lite.

Puffer Lite is the summertime little brother of StrathPuffer (the most northerly, winterly 24 hour race in the world…apparently). Whilst StrathPuffer is a 24 hour race in January with about 17 hours of darkness on some interesting, rocky, techy trails, Puffer Lite uses the same course but is a 12 hour race in June, 8pm to 8am, with about an hour and a half to 2 hours of darkness.

It’s also the Scottish Singlespeed Champs (yup, that’s right, a 12 hour singlespeed champs).

Chris and I drove up fairly early on in the day because Chris wanted to drop me off before going off for a ride in Torridon. So I arrived at about 1pm…plenty time to set up camp, fettle with bike and snooze before signing on at 5 and then getting down to proper pre-race fettling.

The forecast had been for heavy rain, so I had taken hot weather and wet weather kit, just in case. Luckily, the rain turned out to be a few big sploges of rain just before we started.

At 8pm, the Le Mans start saw most folks dash off to get their bikes and then disappear of up the hill. Since I’m not one for starting out fast, I just started as I meant to continue…a slow, steady plod, enjoying the sunshine, views, trails and company.

My plan was to do double laps and just stop off in between to get fresh water and food. The first 4 laps went well and I managed to keep up a good pace. The course was great and the conditions were about as good as they could get. The trails were buff and dusty and fast. I didn’t need to put my lights on until about 11pm and it didn’t really get dark until after midnight. That’s when the dark thoughts started.

I pulled into my pit at about 2am feeling pretty deflated and not really sure I wanted to keep going. One half of me knew that if I didn’t finish the race I’d only be letting myself down and I’d end up kicking myself afterwards. The other half just kept asking why I was doing this.

While I was sitting having a bite of brioche, Chris wandered into the tent and told me I was a lap down on the winner. That made up my mind. I wasn’t racing anymore – I was just going to keep plodding on, forget about pushing myself and just enjoy the trails. I also knew that it would be dawn soon and I didn’t want to miss that (one of the benefits of soloing is that you know you’re going to be the one who gets to do the dawn lap).

So off I went again. The sun started coming up at about 2.30 and it was lovely. The course was pretty quiet by this time, so I managed to take in the views over the hills and forest all by myself. With the dawn, my spirits started to lift again and I started having fun again.
After another double lap, I pulled in to the pits and Chris told me I was 5 minutes down on the leader now. So I’d managed to make up half a lap. I knew it was unlikely that I’d be able to make up any more time at this stage, but I wondered if I might just be able to start pushing a little bit harder to see what happened.

Another couple of laps got me through to just before 7am and I was still 5 minutes down. I really didn’t think I’d be able to make it up so I decided to just go out and enjoy my last lap. I wouldn’t be up this way for a while, so I might as well enjoy the trails and the views.

I got back to the start finish area about 20 minutes before 8 and Chris told me that I’d managed to make up the time and had won. I was on the same lap as second place, but I’d managed to get in before her.

I headed back to the tent to have my finish line cup of tea and while I got changed and cleaned up (it’s the first race I’ve finished in Scotland where I’ve been completely coated in dust!) Chris went off to get my lap timings from the timing folks….it turned out I was a lap up on second place, so I’d somehow managed to make up that lap I was down during the night. I’d also managed to win the Scottish Singlespeed Champs too, so I was doubly pleased.

The folks from Square Wheels did themselves proud again and put on another fantastic event. The weather gods and the other riders made the event another memorable one – thanks!

The Open 12

Having just recovered from the hole in my knee caused by hitting the deck at Bristol, I gathered my kit together into several large IKEA bags and headed to Yorkshire for the 2nd race in the Open Adventure Racing Series. The first race is 5 hours, the 2nd is 12hours and the 3rd (in a month) is 24 hours long.

If you've never adventure raced, then give it a shot. It's such good fun. You are time limited and in pairs and have to chase all over the countryside (we're talking the Best of British here - Lakes, Dartmoor, Yorkshire Dales, Highlands, North Wales etc etc) looking for checkpoints. In addition to mountain biking and running there is often kayaking, climbing, abseilling, a bit of swimming, canyoning and caving.

The Open 12 was hot hot hot and I can honestly say for 12 hours I pushed somewhere beween 98 and 100%. We had won the Open 5 so were 'series leaders'. The clear favourites (who beat all the male pairs too) had missed a checkpoint on the orienteering stage so we had 30 points on them. In the Open 12 they beat us overall by 29 points... and the Open 24 is on TV (Channel 4) so I'm looking forward to a bit of fame (sweat-soaked, unwashed as I will be)...

The Open 12 started near Hawes and went, well, everywhere. A 3ish hour run stage had us high up in the fells and after scrambling up through a canyon with some refreshing dips in freezing water, we jumped on the bikes for a 5 hour mtb stage, complete with a waterfall scramble and submerged checkpoint beneat Hadraw Force - the highest freefalling waterfall in the UK. Very, erm, breathtaking (was very cold!) Luckily it was sunny and windy enough for us to dry off pretty quickly when we were back on the bikes.

After a midge-ridden over night camp chatting with the other competitors and our team (team For Goodness Shakes), who had 4 pairs in the race, we set off for day 2 - a 5 hour stage. This began with a tandem abseil off an overhanging cliff and then a 16k trail run towards Semer Water, which we had to swim across, complete with bike helmet, pack and running shoes! At the other end we met our bikes and had a 2ish hour frantic ride around the dales in the baking sunshine, desperately trying to clear the course within our time limit. We knew that Planet Fear (the favourites) had beaten us by 25 points the previous day so if we could clear the course we wouldn't lose our series lead, even if they took much less time.

We thrashed up the final hill to the finish line and were unfortunately 1minute 37seconds late, which gave us a 4 point penalty - but still 1 point ahead in the series table. I am now at home tending festering blisters (my crash at bikefest rather limited the amount of running I've been able to do!) and reeling from getting home to find our 2 hardtails had been stolen from the garage. [If anyone sees two beautiful Whyte 19 trails out there looking a bit homeless, they're ours. Andy's even has 'Andy Wilson Team For Goodness Shakes!' engraved on the USE seatpost!]

Another lovely weekend, then, tearing around the countryside on bikes and foot and generally having a rip-roaring time with mates. Awesome.

Fi

Commute

New studio. New commute. Blissfully traffic free for all but a mile. No excuses not to travel by bike.

Vikki

New Shoes

I should probably throw out at least one of my old, broken pairs now, but.....well, a girl can never have too many pairs of cycling shoes, can she?

Jac
x

idle ruminations

trek racing's extended road trip movie has become essential morning coffee viewing.

does anyone else think the soundtracking is back to front, though?

j.

things wot i learnd at brizzle 12

1: trees are an issue.
2: i do not like taking it seriously.
3: angry speed is good for going fast but is not good for smiles.
4: winning a twelve hour race by 31 seconds is cutting it rather too fine.
5: whether they like it or not, my friends are my heroes.



j.

Bikefest

I had totally gone off mountain bike racing, preferring to ride rather than race, but always do Bikefest because it's my local event on local trails and the banter is always good. I had a brilliant weekend - caught up with loads of old friends, soaked up the excitement and generally chatted away to heaps of lovely people.

The riding was great, too. The trails were harsh, dry and fast, just as I like them. Brutal on the body and needing good lines and good technique.

The racing, at least for me, was a catastrophe. I 'mixed-paired' on Saturday and we kept it fast and fluid until my partner cramped all over (including his chest!) and had to pull out. But still, 9hrs of interval training can't be bad! I had Sunday's solo 6 to redeem myself, too, so I didn't really mind. I spent the remainder of the time cheering on my boyfriend who won the Old Gits Male Pairs with some panache!

I wasn't exactly looking forward to Sunday. I haven't solo-d a mtb race since 2008. Not with some great announcement to 'retire' or 'hang up my wheels'; just because I've been doing other stuff which has been really good fun. The thought of riding round in circles for 6 hours didn't fill me with excitement and I was really pleased to have battled with my demons over night and arrived at Ashton Court feeling strong and ready. Relaxed but nervous. A good combo.

The start was clean and calm and I decided to settle into a 29-30 min pace and do 12 laps. If that meant I won then so be it. If not then, whatever - I was tired from the day before and didn't really care.

The first two laps flew past and I had a big gap on the girls behind already. I set off on lap 3 feeling pretty happy with how I was riding. My quads were tired from all the flat-out the day before and I was pretty sure someone would be climbing faster than me (I was right) but the singletrack was flowing well and my body felt surprisingly good considering my little stack the day before and the Ashton Court Battering you always get in the dry.

Then, out of nowhere, my front wheel whipped from under me and I crashed hard on a flat piece of gravelly singletrack. I still have no idea why. I quickly stood up, straightened the handlebars and jumped back on. Auto-pilot. A hundred or so metres later I stopped because going over the bumpy rocks was wobbling the hole in my knee too much and hurting like hell. I stopped, started crying and then couldn't breathe. I was having a panick attack from the shock. Great.

Luckily my friend Jez (you'll know him if you do enduro racing - he has 1 leg) stopped and calmed me down. For a few minutes he just made me breathe deeply. Once I was breathing normally I decided to carry on riding. I still hadn't really looked at my knee. I struggled round the rest of the lap. It hurt. I was caught and overtaken by Sarah Forbes, the eventual winner, but couldn't have cared less, as I pulled into the pit where I saw Andy and Jenn and they took my bike off me and packed me off to A&E immediately.

So I am now recovering from 2 layers of stitches in my knee - to patch up a hole that goes bone-deep. I'm hoping there was no bone damage - at the moment it's too swollen to know. I've had 2 days off work and am bored senseless, but still keep feeling dizzy and drifting off to sleep mid sentence.

But so what? This is an occupational hazard, right? Right. Mel Alexander has a broken pelvis. I have a cut. (Mel is on the road to recuperation and is being amazingly strong about it - I wish her all the best and look forward to her whipping my butt again very soon). In the mean time I'm planning what I'll be doing the moment my stitches come out. There's nothing really wrong with me and I have realised, despite and because of all this, that I do actually enjoy mountain bike racing and want to do a little bit more. Maybe. Between adventure races and road racing, and running and kayaking (and recovering from injury).

Stay safe people.

Fi

Summer

Clouds are gathering in the sky and the forecast is rain for Bristol Bikefest this weekend. But nothing can dampen my spirits. I love this event and am very excited... I had to come to the office today because I knew working from home would mean packing kit and 'testing' bikes in anticipation.

But I really hope it doesn't rain!

Last week we rode the Tour of Wessex 3 day Sportif which was great fun, if a little 'up'. The first day was wet and made me curse ever getting into road riding. Then the sun came out and we were streaming all round the south west, working hard but with banter, sun and sandwiches. I have 325 miles in my legs from those 3 days so will I have recovered for bikefeast? Well, we'll find out tomorrow!

Hope to see you there

Fi

To Fall in love again

I've often read articles in the bike mags preaching that we re-visit our local trails and not over-look the joys on our own doorstep because we are weary of riding them. I have riden many of my trails purely as a highway to somewhere else and paid little attention to many of them. This weekend I had some friends over to ride and we decided to not go too far from the pub so local trails seemed like a good plan, I was elected leader.
In my efforts to piece together the "best bits" for my visiting delegation I set off making it up as I went along and purposefully took routes I wouldnt normally lace together. Stretches I would always only ride in one direction because they were going TO or FROM somewhere, I reversed. Where I would always turn right, I turned left and vice versa, I actually found some stretches of trail I had never seen before and was followed by a string of smiling faces.

Later in the pub one of my friends said to me " i didnt realise there were so many great trails round here" and I had to reply "neither did I".

Great feeling to fall in love with your home trails all over again! Maybe the weather has something to do with it :-)

Happy days!

See you all in Bristol this weekend.

Elaine