So the final round of the 2015 UK Gravity Enduro was upon us, and the stunning Dyfi valley would see the curtains drawn on the UKGE series. I was looking forward to three big days out on the bike, but not without reservation, as bar a last minute loop in the peaks last Sunday, I hadn’t been in the saddle for six weeks. I hate feeling unprepared, but I was going to have to live with it and just let my stubbornness prevail.
I arrived at the campsite late in the afternoon on Friday, and after pitching up, I set out on the loop to get some steady practice in. I was feeling incredibly rusty, so was trying not to expect too much from my first day. I got through stages 1, 3 and 5 cleanly enough (I missed stage 2 out as I was getting short on time) but made such a mess of stage 4. I simply couldn’t ride it! I spent far too long scrabbling about on what felt like everything except my tyres, with both feet anywhere but my pedals, and I generally had a horrible time. I was going to have to up my game significantly if I wasn’t going to finish flat last…
I got back to the campsite just as the sun disappeared, after being escorted along the road by a couple of bats. I love bats, they’re ace. Anyway, after a shower and some better than expected ‘just add water’ food, I got my head down and tried to forget about stage 4.
I was greeted by a crisp and bright Saturday morning, which I didn’t think was possible in Wales, and sorted breakfast. I decided to stick the flat pedals on, to try and regain some portion of confidence in my riding, however I arrived in the arena to the news that the top section stage 4 was now going to be part of the transition – effectively making it the hardest transition In The Whole World. I heard a few grumbles about it, but I think mostly the consensus was that this was a good idea, as it should make the competition a bit more inclusive to those of us who aren’t superhuman bike-handling geniuses. I’d not be adverse to riding it in race conditions, I just knew I’d need a lot of time on it to get comfortable.
My practice loop had taken rather longer than I’d thought it would, and I was starting to run out of fitness (starting…ha!) so I ended up missing out stage 5. I was more bothered about the other stages anyway, and I felt like I was riding fairly well, if a little rough around the edges. As it happened, I rode the top of stage 4 reasonably well, and just that made me feel a lot better about myself. I got back down to the arena to be refuelled by the great food provided by The Billy Can, and headed back to the campsite to clean a bit of muck off the bike and to swap pedals back over, before readying myself for my 16.16 start.
Seeding uses stage 5, which comes down into the arena, so there’s always a bit of fizz added to the usual race nerves. I decided to go without my hydration pack, which I almost immediately regretted, and we were met with a red flag delay when we reached the top. That sounded bad, stage 5 was enormously fast, and if anything was going to go wrong, it was going to go really wrong. It turned out the lad that had gone down had broken his arm after travelling some distance off the course, and a new trail had to be dug to extract him. Credit where it’s due for not doing things by halves… heal fast!
My run wasn’t textbook by any means. Thankfully, I’m not known for that, so it was perhaps just a typical effort. The top section pointed pretty much straight down the hill, with several drop offs in quick succession which you could either choose to send and clear, or scrub speed and pump down. On two occasions, I found the exact point between the two of these options, and very nearly splattered myself all over the grass. My front suspension saved my dignity the first time, but my nether regions bore the brunt of the second classy landing, which was rather distracting for a decent portion of the run. I ran a touch wide at Hecklers Corner, but dragged it back just in time, and had a front wheel moment on the final turn which would have made a mess of a photographer, but thankfully I managed to pick it up in time and get over the line. I landed 42nd, nestled nicely in the ‘blunt end’, but definitely with a feeling I could improve my stage 5 time.
Race day was significantly cooler, which satisfied the very British compulsion of talking about the weather, and made the first climb to stage 1 slightly more bearable than it might have been had we had a repeat of Saturday. As I’ve mentioned before in a previous post, one of the great things about this kind of race, and indeed, mountain biking in general, is that you can strike up a conversation with anyone, which really takes the nerves away. I spent the day in the company of Will Stevenson, Callum Powell and Sureen Thapa, who all did their part to keep that ‘riding with mates’ feeling going; there’s certainly no need for any apprehension about turning up to a race weekend on your own. Well, unless you’re a miserable sociopath, in which case bring a teddy.
So after nattering our way up to the top, it was time to get our race heads on. Stage 1 started in the darkness of the forest, snaking through the roots to a fast fireroad chute which then traversed the hill. A good stage to start off on and get my eye in, I took it fairly steady, as feeling comfortable on the bike was my priority for the latter stages in the day.
Stage 2 was approximately 5km away, and offered up totally different terrain to the other stages. The riding is less technical than in the woods, but the risk factor is probably higher, due to drop off the to the side, and the tyre-killing rocks that littered the narrow trail. Still in my ‘smoother is better’ mindset, I set off and tried my best to keep my head up, rather than my tried and tested Chris Froome Stem-Staring technique that only serves to get me into bother. I was really enjoying this stage, clearing the rough and sharp stuff with relative ease and gaining free speed by treating the trail like a pump track. I might not have been leaving scorch marks on the gravel, but I was having a nice time, so there.
I could see that I was closing in on Will, which buoyed my confidence, but it turned out he was riding with a flat. I had passed two other guys that were fixing punctures trailside and a further four were nursing mechanical issues at the bottom, proving that no matter how fast you are, if you don’t look after your machine on the trail, you’ll be giving an awful lot of time away. We waited for Callum to come into view, but assumed that he’d suffered a similar setback to the others, so after thinking about it for around 5 seconds, set off without him. As it happened, he’d washed out on the loose stuff, causing all kinds of havoc with his stem and bars pointing the wrong way.
I was looking forward to stage 3, as I’d enjoyed it in practice and felt good enough to start opening up the taps. The fast start chute throws you into the woods, and with the light changing rapidly you need to hold your focus to spot your way through the slippery roots, with multiple line choices on a few corners to confuse you. There was a decent sized stump to get over, and with a tap on the bashguard to justify it’s purchase you’re thrown into more twisty snot. I was feeling good, but a miss-judgement sent me wide and I stalled, which knackered my rhythm. A couple more slips as my form fell away, and Sureen was on my tail; apologies to him for making a mess of getting out of his way as we got a bit tangled! I was a bit disappointed in myself, as it was untidier than it could have been, but that’s the kind of performance us weekend-warriors have to put up with. After a top up at the water station, we set off on the epic transition to stage 4.
It’s a little known fact, that there was originally eleven commandments given to that Moses bloke, the last of which has since been omitted from the ancient texts. It is believed to have read thus: “Thou shalt not ride for fucking miles on grass”.
If this had been allowed to stand, this transition would simply not have been able to exist, and we’d all have missed out on some truly stunning scenery, and some really fun natural jumps. By this point, we were all really showing signs of slowing down, but while the weather was (just) still behaving, I fail to see how you can grumble in a place like this.
As mentioned earlier, the top part of stage 4 had been cut, meaning the stage start was now at the first fireroad crossing. We still had to get down the tough bit though, so I tried to ride it where I could, and actually fared better than the previous day. It was good to know that each time I rode it I had learned to handle the challenge a little better than the last, although there was still the inevitable point of running out of talent, as it were. The Hope Factory boys could be heard having a right laugh coming down, and as I acted like Bambi on ice, I was treated to a close up masterclass of How To Ride Snotty Steep Shit. It’s clear that I have some way to go.
So after clearing the muck from my bike to allow my wheels to actually turn, I was off down stage 4. Starting off fairly steep and twisty, I had a bit of a shaky start but managed to get away with perhaps more than I should have. My fortune ran out, of course and I took a spill just before the flat out pedally section. I gassed it best I could on the fireroad, which seemed to go on forever, and got up and over the bus-stop well, before being chucked into some steep, fast, snakey trails. I passed Will, who had taken an excursion off the side and tried to keep my momentum up, knowing the finish was near. A left hander and a drop was all there was to navigate, but somehow everything went a bit wrong – I lost both my pedals and ended up barrelling down the drop in a heap, closely followed by Will, who hadn’t quite expected me to be in such a state, who was in turn followed by Sureen. Onlookers hadn’t the foggiest clue what had happened, but all agreed that it was hilarious. I felt a bit of an idiot, but that’s not news.
The final climb of the day, and everyone was much quieter now, just keeping our heads down and getting ourselves to the end. It was here that someone noticed that my shock didn’t look right, and indeed it was sagging much more than normal. Of course, the only time I didn’t take a shock pump out with me and I actually bloody need one! Once at the top, someone better prepared lent me his, and although the pressure hadn’t changed from what I’d set the day before, something wasn’t right. I put a bit more air in than usual, and decided to just take it ‘easy’ on the final stage, with my new free excuse. I didn’t want to repeat my scruffy seeding run, and with a shock that looked like it would bottom out if it saw a pebble I opted to squash the drop offs and try and stay smooth. The persistent drizzle had made things seem really greasy, so I was trying to make sure I cornered the big grassy turns properly to keep my speed up. I saw the guy I was chasing get caught up on the left hander onto the farm track and I totally forgot about taking it easy, and went in hot pursuit. Hecklers encouraged me to get a move on, and I was close coming into the small wooded section. Heading towards the arena, there was two options, wheels on the floor, or launch it.
I could launch it like a hero and overtake him before the finish and it’ll be amazing.
Yes Alec, you could! But what will actually happen is you will launch it like a hero, bottom out your suspension and fail to make the turn. You will then go into the tape, and have to dismount, reverse, get back on and then go to the line… You’ve got to try right?
I finished up 37th, with my best placing being on stage 2 (31st), so a decent improvement on my seeding time, no doubt helped by all those flats on stage 2. I was happy enough with that, but without trying to throw it away, it was more about having a big weekend on the bike after a long spell in the clutches of DIY. Riding bikes might not plaster a wall, fix the wiring or paint the living room, but it certainly sorts my head out!
Big thanks go to Steve Parr and all those that come together to put these events on, they truly are the making of a massive community,. Well done, and enjoy your free time!
This coming Sunday is the ‘Ard Rock Marathon, which promises to be an Absolute Sod… looking forward to it, providing my shock comes back fixed!
The Brunse 
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