Yorkshire Points Round 7- Sheffield

Right, so new team equals new kit, and for round 7 of the Yorkshire Points cyclocross series, it was time to try out the new black and orange skin suit. Exciting stuff! And to go along with the “new” theme, it was also a new course, located at Whitely Woods near Sheffield. All that was certain, running up to the race, was that it was going to be a muddy one; lots of rain in the week suggested the sound of jet washes could soon be in the air.

Rain continued to fall for the journey down to the race, but feelings were relaxed after a an extra hour of much needed sleep, due to the clocks changing. The Chemical Brother were throbbing out of the speakers, and I was looking forward to race.

I managed to squeeze in a quick recce lap before the veterans race began, and the course was ploughed again following the youth race. First impressions were: 1, mud, 2, corners, and lots of them, and 3, “surely this is faster to run”.

The new kit in action

The first part of the course consisted of a number of sharp, slippy corners, sending you up and down a slight gradient. Separating the corners were muddy straights, some quicker to run and others where you were constantly battling for traction, seeming to be digging a trench rather than moving forward. This section eventually meandered you to the high point of the course, just before you tackled “the maze”. After a short section of woodland singletrack, you were spat out into a network of tape and course, unable to distinguish which part came first. A great length of course seemed to have been squeezed into a very small area, which resulted in numerous hairpins. Thrown into this section was also a section of unridable mud and a set of hurdles. Technical and demanding yet very enjoyable. Once out of the maze, you entered another section of woodland, this time heading downwards. It was a slippy, tight and fast descent, which could cause problems when partnered with fatigue. This brought you out not far from the finish line, which, after a slippy, off camber hairpin, was to be crossed.

It was clear to see from the mud, which was clug to my bike, that a few bike changed would be necessary during the race. Not only would the build up of mud add extra weight to my bike, but would also increase the risk of a mechanical, such as a broken hanger, indefinitely ending my race. So, after signing on and a brief encounter with fellow MTBO team mate Andy Douglas, I gave my my bike a good wash down and then set to work warming up.

After the usual routine on the turbo trainer, a spell of fast paced music to get me a bit into the zone and raspberry ripple energy gel, I was ready to race.

My start was not great. I missed my pedal, which, partnered with the uphill nature of the start, caused me to be a great number of places down. This didn’t phase me and I pushed hard to try and get them back. With the usual back logs on the opening lap of races, I decided to run a few of the first corners, which allowed me to jump up the rankings. Half way around the first lap and I found myself in a more respectable position, just outside of the top 10 I think. For the rest of the lap I picked up a few more places and found myself alongside local friend and rival Dave Morris, who I have bad a few battles with at previous races. I knew there was no chance either of us would let the other go, not without a hard fight first.

Remounting after one of the unrideable sections

A couple of laps later, and Dave and I still had locked horns. Dave took the first bike change, which allowed me to get a small short lived advantage. The mud free bike allowed Dave to almost glide back to me, even with a short dig by me to drop him. Half a lap later and I took my first bike change of the race, straight away wishing I hadn’t. It was the first race of the season where it was necessary to change bikes due to the mud, and my second bike had not been tested in such conditions before - it felt like riding a road bike. The tyres seemed to have no tread and I had to take corners much more cautiously and climbs were made much harder with such a lack of grip. Hoping my first bike had been cleaned, I entered the pits for the second time only half a lap later. Thankfully, the quick work of my pit monkey, sorry, my dad, meant I could swiftly jump onto my first bike again, which felt more like a tractor in comparison to my second bike.

Despite my trouble with my second bike, I managed to make up my losses, dig deep and catch back up with Dave. There was no way I was going to let him go. To me, and I’m sure to him also, the rest of the riders did not matter. Who came out on top between him and me was the only thing that mattered.

Up until the final lap, Dave and I jumped on small mistakes by the other rider in order to get a gap and pull away. It left the other person going right into oxygen debt to catch up and get back into contention. From a spectators point of view, it would seem that we were taking it in turns, lap by lap, to be in front, all in all, a very civilized affair. Little did they know, it was the complete opposite. There was hardly a moment when one rider sat on the other’s wheel; there was always one of us trying to make the other suffer. Each time a bike change was made by one person, the other would make a move. At one point I took one too many risks trying to drop Dave and ended up flying over the handlebars, after clipping a stump on the woody descent. But, despite each of our efforts, the result would came down to the last lap, with both of us getting the bell at exactly the same time.

One of many attacks on Dave

Not long into the final lap, Dave went into the pits for a bike change. I seized the moment. I attacked straight away, and didn’t look back. I pushed hard out of every corner and along every straight. I caught glimpses of Dave just behind me when the course meandered back and forth; I had a very small advantage and any mistake would cost me the race.

Thankfully, I managed to hold out just a few meters on Dave all the way to the finish line, and I came home as top Harrogate rider, I hardly thought of my overall position, which was, in the end, 9th.

I was quite pleased with this overall position; it added a little to beating Dave. Really, I wanted to be a few places higher up, but the race had given me a few pointers in how to improve for next time and I was happy with that. Plus as well, I was going to see The Cat Empire, one of my favorite band, in the evening, so I was very much looking forward to that.

I would really like to thank my dad for pitting for me. It’s a hard job in the pits; there is tremendous pressure to get a bike cleaned in a very small amount of time and it is a very selfless job. It was much appreciated!

I would also like to thank cxmagazine for the kit in which I raced and warmed up in. It was the first time I had raced in it and, well, I loved it. The reaction from others was about the kit was also very positive. Look out for the black and orange!

Check out www.cxmagazine.com for all the cyclocross news and reviews, plus details on how to subscribe to the mag.

Also, just a quick note regarding the cyclocross race at Huddersfield on the 20th October. Unfortunately, due to a back injury sustained in a crash on the third or fourth lap, I had to pull out. I don’t really like DNFs, like most people, but I think carrying on would have done a lot more bad than good. Thankfully, after a lot of lying down, some deep heat and a roast pork bap all was good; so no lasting damage.

I shall be back racing again this coming weekend in Sheffield, for the cyclocross race at Grave’s Park. Until then, happy riding.

MTBO World Cup- Portugal

October, 30 degrees, Portugal. Oh yeah and ermm... some cycling! I know I’ve got to rub it in a little bit at some point, so I’ll get it out of the way now. It’s the first time I’ve been to a hot country in the colder months in the UK, and it does take some getting used too. You know that feeling you get when you open the curtains after just waking up in the morning? Well that’s what it has felt like for the first few days over in Portugal. I’m not complaining; I'd have much rather been over there than in England, with the cold wet weather. Topping up the tan lines for the last time in 2013, it was great to be given the opportunity to come and race over in Portugal for the final round of the Mountainbike Orienteering World Cup. And I really cannot give enough thanks to Keith Dawson and SustainAgro Associates for giving me the funding that allowed me to travel to the event!

My racing, for the long weekend, consisted of the World Cup middle distance race, which was last Friday, the World Cup long distance race, which was last Saturday, and then finally the sprint race last Sunday, which was just an open category race. Happening at the same time was the World Masters MTBO Championships; so for my six days out there, I stayed with the GB masters team in a villa near the West coast, where there were some incredible scenic beaches. I competed in the Men Elite category, as there is no under 20 category at the World Cups. So for me, there was very little pressure to perform, and I had the intention of using the whole event for obtaining some very valuable experience.

The Great Britain team ranch

On the Thursday before the races began, most of the GB team, including me, went to ride the model event, which was a good marker as to what the terrain for the other events would be like. For most, however, this was not the first riding they had done out in Portugal. Everyone in the GB team, excluding me, had completed some of the training events earlier in the week. However, with school, commitments and the like, I was only able to travel out on the Wednesday, meaning I would only have one day of getting used to the terrain before competing. But I made the most of the day, and in the afternoon I managed to sneak out and have a go on one of the previous day’s training maps. For both the model event and the training area, the terrain was steep, tracks were reasonably sandy and the overall navigation was very intense! Putting this aside though, the riding was very fun; there were fast rocky descents, lots of sharp climbs and a few fords and stream crossings thrown in. All in all, the days riding had set me up quite nicely for the following day’s World Cup middle distance race.

Friday- Middle Distance race day. After an early get up, well 7am, a good helping of scrambled eggs on toast and some Portuguese sun soon woke me up fully. The race start, finish and quarantine was in the town of Grandola, only 20 minutes drive from the villa. On the way, the morning mist had settled in the bottom of the valleys and it was another beautiful sight to add to my memories of Portugal.

Quarantine began at 10:30 and my race start was 11:28, so for the first 20 minutes I found some shade to relax. We weren't allowed mobiles or any maps in the quarantine area, so all I could really do was dwell upon the upcoming race.

The time passed quickly and the next thing I knew I was stood on the start line, with the clock counting down. One minute before the start I was allowed to pick up my map, and I had managed to plan my route to the first few controls; my brain did not allow me to think about the complexity of tracks and contours that lay on the piece of paper in front of my eyes.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Go!

Middle distance map

As far as I recall, I did not make any huge mistakes in my race. My aim was to focus on the map reading and not allowing such mistakes to occur. As coming from a cycling background rather than an orienteering background, I normally go too fast, and often in the wrong direction. For this race I slowed down the pace a fraction, which allowed me to be a lot smoother and make fewer mistakes. I did, of course, make a few mistakes, but as far as I was concerned, I had a good race and I was pretty pleased with my performance.

In the end I finished 36th, which, bearing in mind I still have another 2.5 years as a Junior, I believed to be pretty good. I was 2 minutes down on the current Junior world champion, who was also racing in the World Cup, which was a lot less than in Estonia for the World Championships in August. So I had made some advancements on previous races with only one race down. What made this even more satisfying was the fact that I did not follow any of the other Elite riders, which would have hampered the experience I would have gained. I saw no point in travelling all of the way to Portugal just to follow another rider around an unknown area. If I was wanting a great result out of the competetion I might have though differently.

All in all, it was a great day's racing; a result I wouldn't mind replicating the following day.

Saturday- Long distance race day. 46km was the length of the days race (optimum route). That, for MTBO, is a rather long race. The estimated winning time was just under two hours, which meant fuelling up was key; energy would not just be needed for forward motion, but also to allow me to concentrate and think for such a long time. This in mind, I had athletes portion of scrambled eggs and toast. It worked the previous day, why do something different.

My start time for the day was pretty much the same as the previous day, minus a minute, except quarantine started at 11:00. I went straight into my warm up, upon entering the area, and ran through key bits of info regarding the race in my head. Due to the race length, there was a bottle exchange/feed zone at control 11, there was also a map exchange  at control 11.  There was a very hilly area as well as a flatter area, which meant different thought as regards to route choice, etc. etc.

Again the time trickled away in an instant, and I was, again, on the start line, with one minute to go, deciding on route choices for the first controls. The red mist of racing had descended.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Go!

World Cup long race

For a long while, I thought it was pretty hard navigation. Route choice was key, and due to the length of some legs, there were many routes to choose from. It was worthwhile spending slightly longer deciding on a route, rather than taking a bad route choice and loosing many minutes. In theory, with a good well-considered route choice, you'd be able to hammer it to the next control. Unfortunately, I was still in pro-nav mode and I took many sections too slow. On the plus side, I made very few mistakes, which I have gained experience from. But the long is more a competition of speed, which I think on the day I had forgotten about. The race, really, should have favoured me, and I should have really gained a few places on the middle distance. But, in the end I finished in 42nd. It was an ok result, but, in theory, the long should have been my best event. I made some great route choices, and I was on the ball for nearly the whole race (there was one instance where I emerged from the undergrowth to meet Andy Windrum, one of the GB masters, making some sarky comment). However, what I have taken from the event that the long is more a question of speed, and sometimes I need to switch off and go into XC race mode.

World Cup long race

Although not being 100% happy with my result, it is very hard to be as an athlete, I really enjoyed the riding and I know exactly how to improve from it. So, again, a very good day's racing.

Sunday- Sprint distance race day. For the majority of World Cup riders it was the day of the World Cup Relay, but being the only British Elite rider at the event I was unable to compete. Instead, I entered the open sprint race, which like the relay, took place around the hilly, narrow streets of Santiago do Cacem. It was the last race of the trip, and I wanted to sign off a great time in Portugal with a good result.

Before my start, I had already heard news of a bronze and a silver from the GB masters team and also that the master 40 men were using the same map as the open category, so a little bit of pressure was felt. However, with it not being a World Cup event, I thought I could take even more risks, and push the boundaries of my previous experience in sprint events. In Estonia, at the World Junior Championships, I had an awful sprint race, and I really wanted to show myself I was capable of a good result in a sprint.

Out of all of the events, the sprint race requires the swiftest and most intense map reading, and with a race normally lasting under 25 minutes, speed is also necessary for a good result.

Stood on the start line, with less than one minute to go, I was able to plan my route for the first 6 controls, as the legs were so short. But then came the beeps...

5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Go!

Open sprint race

My first 6 legs were smooth. I was moving along at a very quick pace, and no mistakes were made. I had a rhythm going and I felt good. But then, at the seventh control, I took a wrong turn. Although this was realised very quickly, every second counts in a sprint, so it was to effect my result.

I was smooth, again all the way to the thirteenth control, minus a chain off. But, on my way to the fourteenth control, I made the biggest blooper of my race. I took a road parallel to the one I was aiming for, and by the time I had reached control 14, I had lost 1.5 minutes. It was a knock, but I wasn't down.

Apart from a few very small mistakes, I negotiated the final 5 controls pretty speedily. I crossed the line with a time of 21 minutes, which I knew was a little down on Kilian, who had obtained a bronze medal for GB earlier in the day. It turned out I was 8th in my category, which seemed pretty reasonable.

Ignoring my two mistakes, I have to say I was very pleased with my race. I was a lot smoother than I thought I would be, and I was able to ride fast as well as navigate fast. Plus as well, it was mega fun! Darting around empty streets in the sun is not something you can often do in the UK!

Sadly, however, that was my last race and ride of my time in Portugal. After a BBQ with a few of the other teams in the evening, it was time to think about packing and travelling back to the miserable weather in the UK.

I have to say, I loved my time in Portugal. The riding was fun, I got some ok results, gained a load of experience and Portugal in Autumn speaks for itself. As I mentioned earlier, I really cannot thank Keith Dawson and SustainAgro Associates for their contribution towards funding my trip, which allowed me to compete. Also, a well done to the GB masters, who came home with 4 medals a load of top 10s.

This week, I go back to racing cyclocross on home soil. It should not be long until my new cxmagazine.com team kit arrives, which I am very excited to race in! Check out cyclocross magazine  here cxmagazine.com/subscribe. And if you fancy subscribing, drop me a message and I can send you a discount code for 20% off your purchase. I'll also be at most Yorkshire points cyclocross races where you can talk to me.

Temple Newsam CX- Yorkshire Points Round 5

After the hype and success from the Three Peaks Cyclocross, it was time to continue with the 'regular' cross season. That means no more 20 minute bone rattling descents or miles and miles of hike a bike; which sounds good to many, who swear never to do the peaks again, but quite sad to me, having to wait another year for one of my favourite events. A lot of people say that the three peaks ruins your cyclocross season, but for many, like me, the three peaks is the pinnacle of the season; anything that comes after is a bonus.

The first race for me after the peaks, was Round 5 of the Yorkshire Points series, which was held at Temple Newsam, Leeds. With some pains still in my legs, from the peaks, and after a few celebratory drinks the night before, I knew I wouldn't be on complete top form coming into the race. But for me, there was little pressure and I was going to enjoy the race, letting it take its own course. I knew better results would come later in the season, with more specific training.

I really enjoyed the course at Temple Newsam. It was a mixture of technical woodland riding, which I was suited to with my MTB background, hard relentless climbs and some very interestingly placed hurdles, straight after a steep and slippy downhill hairpin. Despite the rain earlier on in the week, there was very little mud, and corners were only slightly greasy. Also, for October, it was a very sunny day; so spirits were high and there was a big turnout for competitors.

After a practice lap, finding some great lines around some of the rooty corners in the woods, and then my usual turbo warmup, it was time to race.

The start loop took full use of the main playing field, resulting in us being very strung out by the time we entered the woods for the first time. Despite a fast tempo being set at the start, I managed to be in with the mix, among the top 10. We hit the woods and I managed to move up a places with one of my rehearsed lines. The tempo remained high, but I was able to stay glued to the wheel of Simon Maudsley for the first lap.

Feeling pretty fresh early on in the race

Especially with my form coming into the race, all seemed too good. So, right on key, I started loosing grasp and began to slip backwards through the field. For the next few laps, I slipped back past Benny Pygott, Jiri Klecket, Ben Cooper and local race mate, Dave Morris. I had popped and I even felt like retiring. Eventually, I found myself in a group of three, myself included, and I managed to keep in touch with them.

About to negotiate the hurdles in that group of three

I stayed with this group for a couple of laps, enabling myself to recharge and recover from my early efforts in the race. So, batteries recharged, I decided to make an effort and try to drop the group. I knew that I had some strength in running, from the peaks, so I thought it best to make an effort at the hurdles. I went into the section at the front of the group and sprinted over the hurdles and up the bank. This, partnered with a quick remount and further effort, gave me a good gap on the two riders I was with, and I was away. I felt ok, and set to work clawing back at the next rider in sight, Simon Maudsley.

Remounting after the hurdles

The gap between me and Simon became smaller and smaller over the course of one lap, and as we approached the end of the lap I decided to make one more huge effort to bridge the remaining gap. I have no idea how what happened next came about, but it was almost as if I had switched on 'beast mode'. Just as I was coming up to make contact with Simon, with my legs and lungs really suffering, something in my brain said "keep going", and so I did. I sprinted past Simon and on into the woods.

Although this gave me something quite cool to talk about after the race, it did cause problems following on from it during the race. For when my 'beast mode' did come to and end, I felt pretty dizzy and definitely felt the effects of it. I made a few mistakes on relatively easy corners, and Simon closed the gap I had created. And so, with two laps to go, it was me and Simon together, with Benny Pygott, the next rider in front, not too far ahead.

For the majority of the penultimate lap, I stayed with Simon, each of us taking our turn and sharing the work load. But when we reach the hurdles, where the course loops back on itself, I was able to see that the gap to Benny had come down considerably.

Emerging from the woods on Simon's wheel

With just over one lap to go, I dug deep again and made another big effort while negotiating the hurdles.

I managed to get a couple of bike lengths on Simon, but I was really hurting. Benny wasn't too far up ahead, but I knew he'd seen me and was pushing hard too. From the pits, my dad shouted the amount of seconds I was behind Benny; it was coming down, which really spurred me on.

The whole of the last lap was a hard solo effort by myself, trying to catch Benny. But towards the end of the lap, and indeed the race, I realised I was not going to make up the few seconds that separated us. Nevertheless, I pushed hard all the way to line- Simon still wasn't far behind.

I finished the race as 11th place Senior, which, considering my pre-race form and huge efforts early on, I thought was pretty good. I had pushed myself to the limit, and I felt satisfied with my efforts after the race. It has given me some encouragement for the rest of the season, and also for Portugal, where I will be competing for Great Britain in one of the mountainbike orienteering world cups this weekend.

I would like to thank my dad for supporting me in the pits for my race, which I appreciate considering the fact that he was juggling it with commissairing the race also, my mum and Claire Crabtree for providing some great (and some unflattering) photos and, also, to cxmagazine.com for supporting me with kit and advice. It's worth checking out cyclo cross magazine, it's a great read and contains everything you can think of about the sport. From tips for beginners to commenting on the world's best, it's got it. Check it out here cxmagazine.com/subscribe. And if you fancy subscribing, drop me a message (details on the contact page) and I can send you a discount code for 20% off your purchase.

My next race will be this friday, which is the middle distance at the World MTBO Cup in Portugal. A race report will follow, so keep an eye on my blog.

Until then, happy riding

Three Peaks Cyclocross 2013... the blog returns!!!

Hello, I'm back! It's been a while since my last post, a lot has happened since then, but that doesn't matter. I return to you with a corker: my favourite race, the Three Peaks cyclocross.

For those who don't know, the three peaks cyclocross is said to be the hardest cyclocross race in the world, and is seen by none cyclists as "crazy", "mad" and "dangerous". The race covers the peaks of Ingleborough, Whernside and Pen-y-Ghent, all located in the heart of god's own country, Yorkshire. It covers 38 miles, with 5500 foot of ascent, which sounds pretty hard, but by most, doable. That is until you realise what those 38 miles include. Although labelled as a cyclocross race, the three peaks includes a road race style start, with lead car included, fell running, with the majority of climbing being nowhere near rideable (in many cases you can reach out and touch the ground in front of you!), and then there is the descending, which could be described similarly to those fairground rodeos, go as fast as you dare, but don't loose your grip! So really, to be the perfect athlete for the race, you need to be fearless, fell-running powerhouse. Believe me when I say, there are no events like the three peaks anywhere in the world, which means no one person is perfectly suited to each trait. The closest anyone has come is, of course, Lord Robert Jebb (i.e. Peaks legend). The man has won the event, as of this year, 10 times and does't look like he can be stopped any time soon! He holds the record for the event, and after the climb up Simon's Fell, he is rarely seen in a worse position than first. Anyway, enough rambling about heroes and what not. My race...

For the past two years, the month of September has been almost solely devoted to three peaks training. It's not the funnest affair; running up and riding the same hill over and over is not only exhausting, but also quite boring. According to strava, I have run up my personal training hill over 100 times in the last two Septembers. I'm thinking of investing in a new one next year. Anyway, the race is normally won or lost on the run up Simon's Fell, the first peak, which makes running training key! Other than the hill reps, I have visited Pen-y-Ghent and Whernside a couple of times for recce runs and rides (where legal). There is no warm up or taster lap for the peaks, so experiencing the peaks before the race is key!

Last year, the training allowed me to finish as first Junior and 48th overall, in some of the worst conditions the race has ever seen. Howling winds and horizontal rain certainly embedded the memory of my first ever three peaks into my brain!

So, with reminiscing over, the training in the bank, the bikes set up 'peaks style' and myself psyched up, on Saturday the 28th of September 2013, I was ready to race. One more sleep and it would be race day: the nerves of the pre race activities, the suffering of man versus bike and then the excitement of swapping stories of woe, success and near misses.

6am. An early get up, not the best thing before such a big race, but being less than one hour from the event, it was obvious others had it worse. My mind was pretty blank; like most early mornings, I was in a semi-concious state and just got on with what I had to do. Porridge- eat. Clothes- put on. Teeth- brush. Van- get in.

7:30am. En route to Helwith Bridge. In the van was me, my dad, who was also racing, and my mum and nan, who would be supporting me during the race. Conversations were short; that regular pre race feeling is for some reason amplified for the peaks. Thoughts were buzzing around my head: "what if..." "should I have..." "how should I...". The feeling wasn't made any better by the previous days antics, which involved me wrecking a tub on my activation ride and having to buy a new one replace it in the evening. However, I know I am not alone in saying that the Peaks is the race that makes my stomach scrunch up most. To calm them, I popped on my headphones and listened Holy Fire by Foals.

8am. The pre race ritual. Riding down past the mile long length of parked cars, I waved hello to acquaintances, some I see often at local races, others who I only see at the Peaks. Down to the sign on tent: dibber attached to wrist, race pack collected and a quick view of the start. Back up the car and onto the bike for a quick pre race spin on the turbo.

Warming up

9am. There's still half an hour until the start, but with 650 riders all fighting for places on one narrow road, it's best to get there nice and early (something learned from the race in 2012). I manage to get a good position, only a couple of rows from the front, and after quickly removing my arm warmers, I am ready to race.

9:30am. The start. We depart from Helwith Bridge and the nerves vanish in an instant; all thoughts are on positioning and minding other people wheels, as everyone is fighting to be as near to the front as possible. Although classified as neutralised, the first 6km of the race was anything but slow. The lead car rockets off and we are all strung out along the road. I glimpse my heart rate monitor and I realise why my legs are already feeling a slight bit of pain. We pass through Horton-in-Ribblesdale, with the final peak, Pen-y-Ghent, looming above us. Although, it's hard to think about it with the extremes of Ingleborough and Whernside to come first!

Gill Garth. We swiftly turn off road and onto a farm track. The bunch becomes even more strung out, but I manage to keep up in the top 25. The terrain becomes rougher and speeds drop dramatically. My legs are already hurting at this stage and I wonder how on earth I am going to be able to conquer two and a half more peaks!

Simons Fell: the steepest of them all! The rough ground increases in gradient, and the riding of my bike is gradually phased out; it's either faster to run or impossible to ride. This is where all the running training comes in. The ground ramps up to an impossible gradient, and I could have touched the ground in front of me with ease. I lose a few positions; big efforts riding on the lower slopes had obviously taken their toll. I plod up along side the guide rail fence keeping in rhythm with the riders around me. My calves are killing, but I know the gradient must subside soon. As it does so, I attempt to remount my bike. My body feels weak and useless, but I try to retain the grasp of the riders around me.

Climbing Simon's Fell

Ingleborough: when I thought the pain was over. I came over the summit of Simon's Fell thinking to see a helpful marshal to take my dibber, but no. I was faced with Simon Fell's big brother, Ingleborough.  How did I forget that from last year?! There a brief respite from the running/walking, as you transition between the two peaks. Here you feel exposed, as the wind roars around you. Then, after a few fun technical bits of riding, I was hit again, hard, with Ingleborough. A lot rockier than the ascent up Simon's Fell, Ingleborough is not as steep, but the strong winds and pain already present in my legs made it just as testing. I had to hold my bike firm to me to stop it blowing away! Anyway, to my relief, the gradient soon subsided and I appeared onto a lunar landscape, which is the top of Ingleborough. In the distant a gathering of luminescent clad marshals. If my legs could cheer, they would have.

Descending to Cold Cotes. Sadly, there is never an easy point during the three peaks. You are either killing yourself on the uphill or the roads, or you are risking your life going downhill, being shaken to bits at the same time. The start of the descent of Ingleborough was not easy. The strong winds caused me to have a strong attraction to one side of the path, which meant making your bike go where you wanted was nearly impossible. Turning off the main path on Ingleborough, I hit the main descent down to Cold Cotes. Here all I had to do was hold on as tight as possible, let the bike roll and generally hope for the best! Although pretty brutal, I loved the descent. I managed to gain a good few places by the time I reached the bottom, and also moved up to 2nd place under 23. There may have also been an incident involving me going over the bars, but I'll let you discover the video for yourself!

Dropping down to Cold Cotes

The road to Chapel le Dale. After a quick bottle swap and gel reload, it was onward to Whernside, the second peak. After a burst of speed, I managed to latch onto a group of riders, who I worked with for the entirety of the road section. Completing the road section alone is very energy consuming and doesn't set you up well for the following ascent. Getting into a group, even if it means dropping back a little, is a great option.

Whernside. Unlike Simon's Fell/Ingleborough, there is not really a run up to Whernside. As soon as you are off the road, there is very little riding. Before you know it, you are confronted with a set of steps that seem to climb into the sky. I felt reasonable here, I didn't loose any places on the steps and I got into a good rhythm. That wasn't to say it was easy. Plodding up such a large and steep set of steps made my legs feel like they were on fire. Thankfully, my head was right into the race at this point, and it was just a case of getting on with the job. The steps climb all the way to the ridge, which then leads to the top of Whernside. The section would normally have been rideable, but, again, the wind came into play and staying on the bike became a nightmare! I ended up making stupid errors and I ran more of the section then I'd have wanted. But to be fair, everyone was having the same issue. Again, the god like marshals came into view and my legs took a sigh of relief.

Descending to Ribblehead. The remaining ridge line on Whernside was meant to have been pretty easy, but Mr. Wind had other ideas and applied his force in biblical proportions. This section, I later found out, had to be crawled by one of the leading women, Isla Rowntree, to prevent being blown over. It was testing to say the least. A few parts that would have been traversable by bike became rideable for the few who also possessed a death wish. As the descent progressed, it became more sheltered and I began spending more time on the bike again. With the wind in less of an abundance, I began to really enjoy the decent. It was fast but technical, and I made up some good time here. After the last section of bridleway, which goes parallel to the railway line, I dropped down alongside Ribblehead viaduct. A quick bottle swap, gel reload and dib and away I went.

Tongue out, flat out. Descending Whernside

The road to Horton in Ribblesdale. Unlike the previous road section to Chapel le Dale, there was no group dangling in front of me to catch up to and work with. Instead, there was a single guy barely visible up the road. I changed to time trial mode, and set to work in catching him up. I was finally able to latch onto his wheel on one of the sharp climbs, that litter the section. We worked bit and bit, and we managed to catch a couple more lone riders. Then before we knew it we were in Horton. I did not realise how well I had done on the section at the time; the huge lump that laid before me was all that I could think about. It is torture knowing that the finish is only 4km down the road. But the feeling is short-lived, and before you know it, you are going sharply uphill.

The lower slopes of Pen-y-Ghent

Pen-y-Ghent. The most rideable of the three peaks, but by no means any easier. The lower slopes are completely rideable; I managed to drop all but one of the riders I was in a group with on the road and I was, again, progressing up the field. The route turns 90 degrees to the right, just before half way up, and then the real suffering begins. Although completely rideable, the middle section is a horrible grind; it is where you realise if you have put on the right gear ratios or not. On the day, it was a headwind, which meant less was rideable than normal. But for as much as possible, I gritted my teeth and dug as hard as I possibly could. Thankfully, my efforts were rewarded. It was on this section that I caught and past Rob Watson, who was leading the under 23 race. I managed to grind out a small gap on him, that remained past the following rocky, up the high peaty slopes and to the summit. I dibbed the top, apart from empty of energy, 13 seconds ahead of Rob and 17th overall. Unfortunately, I knew about Rob's experience of the race and his ability to descend like an absolute maniac!

Nearing the summit of Pen-y-Ghent

Descending to Horton. As suspected, it was not long into the descent that Mr. Watson came flying past. There was no way I could have kept up with him and the subsequent puncture secured the fact. My heart dropped, but my head remained in downhill mode. I did not pay for my bike or the majority of the equipment I was using in the race, therefore I can not thank my parents enough for supplying me with this kit. But, what happened next goes completely against this gratitude. I rode the remainder of the descent, which was the majority of the distance from the summit to Horton, on my flat tubular. As well as being extremely uncomfortable and resulting in very little control, the puncture also resulted in me loosing at least 6 places. As shown by photos, the discomfort also resulted in some very interesting faces. Thankfully, waiting for me in Horton was my helper for the day, my mum. In Horton, I swapped bikes and began chipping away at the final few kilometres to the finish.

I said there were some great faces...

The Finish. I crossed the line in 3 hours 32 minutes and 5 seconds, half an hour faster than 2012, but narrowly missing out on an elite class time. However, I also finished as 2nd under 23 and 23rd overall, which I have to say looking back it is bloody amazing! I really am very happy with how the race went overall! After a refuel, change of clothes and sit down, I returned to the finish area to begin the ritual of swapping stories, meeting old acquaintances and watching and participating in the podium. The atmosphere really was joyous!

Sat down at last!

But then that was it, the three peaks over for another year. there would be a week or two of flicking through photos from the event, reading fellow riders blogs, but then the hype of the race would subside for another year. And boy am I looking forward to it!

Under 23 podium

I really would like to give a huge thanks to my mum and nan for supporting me during the event; supporting a rider is a very stressful affair and I am sure all of the riders appreciate it. I would also like to thank all of the en route cheers and whoops, even though I won't have registered who you were, they really helped. Finally, a huge thanks go to the organisers, who have done amazing in taking over from John Rawnsley. Without them, the peaks would have died aged 50.

This was, however, my final race with boneshakersbikes.com. I would like to thank them for the help and support they have given over the past two years, it has been a pleasure wearing your colours.

From this week, I will be riding be riding for the newly formed cxmagazine.com Race Team, who are supporting a few British under 23 riders this season. I look forward to racing in your black and orange kit! Please do check out cyclo cross magazine, it's a great read and contains everything you can think of about the sport. From tips for beginners to commenting on the world's best, it's got it. Check it out here cxmagazine.com/subscribe. And if you fancy subscribing, drop me a message and I can send you a discount code for 20% off your purchase. I'll also be at most Yorkshire points cyclocross races where you can talk to me.

Happy riding!

National XC Round 2- Wheal Maid, Cornwall

A very late report I know, but better now than never...

Cornwall: a county occupying the extreme south-western peninsula of England. Even the dictionary uses the word 'extreme' to describe the remoteness of the location of round 2 of the National XC Series. 

A good 5 hours from London, Cornwall was going to be a good 7 hour trip. It is, after all, a journey normally driven for the annual family holiday, where a week or two might be spent on some of the best beaches in the UK. However, this was not the case for us; we would be driving to Cornwall and back within 40 hours, which included 14 hours driving and a further 10 sleeping. But that's racing and dedication for you.

We set off on our journey early Saturday morning (27th April), along with my mate Youth rider Bobbin Gardner, who travelled with us for the weekend. Our aim was to get there in time for the afternoon course tryout period, in order to familiarise ourselves with, what we had heard was, a pretty technical course. With the course location being to distant, no one we knew had raced there before, so we would have to find out first hand the exact nature of the course. But before then, it was travelling, talking and tunes, with Bon Iver, Bastille and Miles Kane being the songs for the road.

Arriving with plenty of time to spare before practice, we managed to get the heads up on some of the course features, from a few of the riders from the Fun race. Key features appeared to be the "wall ride" and the two drops before "toxic lake". Of course, none of this was visible from the lush green car park, where we were getting ready. And until ridden, these features were merely words and worries in the back of our minds.

16:30- time to venture out onto the course.

After winding through the grassy corners of the event arena, we quickly found ourselves on a tight piece of rocky singletrack; all momentum lost in an instant. The course quickly turned downhill after this, following a very fast rolling singletrack path, with few humps and ruts. Continuing downhill, we hit a slightly technical section of woodland, with a very steep length of adverse camber, where wheels could easily be lost. After that was a few extra steep rutted sections, each of which had a sharp corner at the bottom, again meaning a loss of all momentum.

But after what felt like ages, the course finally produced some uphill gradient, gentle at first, but progressing to a torturous grind. There was nothing hard technically here, but physically, it was going to hurt during the race, especially when places would be made up here, from being stuck behind riders on the previous descent.

Eventually, the gradient receded, and the course, once again, pointed downwards. A few fast, but rocky, were followed by a steep drop. Two line choices: the near vertical drop to the left, or the slightly longer, but safer, route to the right. After a try of each, it was obvious that the risk was definitely rewarding, as regards to time. Continuing on the course, a small crowd was gathered just up ahead, just as the route turned off the current main track. Moments later we realised why; before us were the two drops that lead down to the toxic lake. Following Bobbin down the feature, a small kid ran out at the bottom, causing Bobbin to break before the second drop and me to go into the back of him, with nowhere else to go after the first drop. This, I later found out, had broken a spoke on my rear wheel, which, without a spare, could do nothing about. Anyway, second time around we got a clear run on the feature, which shared much similarity to 'The Terrible Twins' at Dalbeattie.

The toxic lake marked the end to all the technical descending on the course. Apart from a few short downhill spurts, the only way was up. At first, the course followed the valley bottom, snaking around on the dry, rocky areas, which laid alongside the lakes. But before the steeper ascending began, there was the ominous wall ride to over come.

After the drag along the valley bottom, the course turned sharply right, towards the opposite valley side to the start/finish. Ahead was the wall ride, which resembled the type of vertical hairpin bend you would see in a children's hot wheels set. And as you will probably know, if you project your toy car up the hairpin without enough speed, the car will simply fall off. This was exactly the case here; stop pedalling, and you'll be having a uncontrollable ride on your top tube down the side of a rocky hillside. This, unfortunately, was what happened to me on one of my trial runs of the feature, thankfully managing to stay on my bike. Eventually, I got the hang of it; not perfect, but not bad. But before we went on to finish the course, we witnessed ex-national champion Oli Beckinsale come off on said feature, filling us all with mountains confidence for the race...

From the wall ride, the course wound its way back up the other side of the valley, with very little technical riding. A short bit of woodland riding, and the course emerged on the start straight and back into the event arena.

In my opinion, the course was immense! Definitely one of the most technical XC courses I have ridden, which wiped out any annoyance from the length of time it took to get there.

After practice, Bobbin and I rode back to the hotel to get ready for the following day's race. A task made slightly interesting when following google maps and getting lost twice!

Race day

Having pre ridden the course the day before, all to be done on the day was warm up and race. However, before this, I was supporting Bobbin in the pits, for the Youth race. Bobbin got a great start, and was up in 13th position. But a cruel puncture on the last lap caused him to fall down to 26th.

Anyway, 11:20, time to warm up; a task made a lot easier, compared to the opening round of the series, as there was no need to dig a hole to put the turbo trainer in! Daft Punk channelling into my ears, head getting in the zone and legs spinning. 30 mins later and I'm on the start line.

With my result from the first round (16th), I am on the second row, which I"m content with; after a few seconds of racing and it means nothing.

After the familiar Australian voice of the commissaire, the siren goes and the race has begun, the red mist of racing comes down.

We head out into the event arena, and everyone is jostling for positions. 16th. 14th. 10th. 13th. We leave the grassy arena and out onto the main course, the field still as one long string of riders. I'm somewhere between 10th and 15th, but there is nothing I can do to change it on the long narrow descent. Man down! James Edmunds goes off the side of the narrow singletrack, and I advance a place. The rest of the descent is event free, and we advance at mac 10 onto the first climb on the course. It's a case of grit your teeth and see what happens. I make up a couple of places, including a team Fullysussed rider with a shaped chain. I must be hovering just above 10th position. A dream of a top 10 just on the horizon!

We turn down and onto the seconds descent. The field of riders is more spread out now, with gaps starting to appear. We approach the drop before the double drop at the toxic lake, there's a few of us grouped together. For some reason, I take a line too far right and end up going down a steeper section of the drop. I land on my front wheel, nearly coming off hard. I manage to regain control, but I've dropped a place or two. I catch back up with the riders I was with as they negotiate the double drop.

On the section between the toxic lake and the wall ride I move back up to 12th position, just before the group starts to splinter. A small dab at the top of the wall ride and I'm over safely; time to hit the climb. After small gaps between riders previous to the climb where prised open, with the vicious ascent back up to the finish arena. I find myself with fellow Yorkshireman Benny Pygott, who clings onto me for the final stages of the opening lap.

Benny and I remain with each other for the majority of the race, which turns out to be rather uneventful for such a challenging course. I negotiate the wall ride perfectly for the final two laps, and I feel the burn up the climbs, but my pace doesn't slip. With half a lap to go, I put in one final spurt and manage to drop Benny from my wheel. I dig in up the final climb, still cautious of his whereabouts behind me.

I manage to hold the gap and come home in 12th position, a 4 place bettering of the opening round at Sherwood Pines. I'm pretty chuffed with my result, despite not getting the top 10 that I desire this season. The course was pretty balanced, with a lot of technical riding partnered with a lot of hard climbs. So to survive the race without a crash or fading is something I was pretty pleased with.

I would like to say a HUGE thank you to my dad for driving me down to Cornwall, and for driving us around after the race trying to find an open Cornish pasty shop! And also a thank you to Boneshakers Performance Cycles for supplying me with kit.

Unfortunately, I did not compete at the North of England championships on May 12th due to a lack of bike, due to a crack I discovered on the frame after my race in Cornwall. However, I shall be racing in Shropshire in a few weeks for round 3 of the National XC Series, along with the usual Wednesday evening time trial league.

Until then, happy riding!

Nutcracker Round 2- Gandale, Catterick Garrison

Gandale army training facility provided the familiar venue for round 2 of the Nutcracker XC series, being a popular course for the previous two years (for most people anyway). Last year at Gandale, I pulled out on the second lap due to illness, and the year before that injury hampered my performance. So looking back, it was looking as though I was either due a good race there or the course just didn't hold any luck for me, we'd have to see...

House viewings meant that my mum would be the driver and run about for the day, with the job usually  being kindly done by my dad. On the plus side, my mum would take full advantage of her new SLR camera, so some great shots were likely. But it also meant that there wasn't as much as a hurry in the morning to leave, which led to me sleeping in too late. So, after a frantic packing of the van we set off north into the depths of North Yorkshire, new album by The Shins on the stereo and fingers crossed that we'd make it in time to try out the course.

Getting closer and closer, it was apparent a recce lap wasn't going to happen; I would have to race it blind. Thankfully, I'd heard that the course hadn't changed drastically from previous years, and that it still contained the main feature, the rocky river bed. But with no recce lap, I had loads of time to get my bike sorted, sign on and relax. So after good look at the start list and a change of tyres, from something a little less aggressive, still on from the mud fest of Sherwood Pines, I set about doing, well, nothing.

10:45: time to set about warming up. Good bit of Daft Punk on the iPod, in light of their forthcoming album, perfect for getting in the zone for racing.

Warm up done, time to swap wheels for racing. A simple task, but this time I managed to cock it up and ended up bending the return spring in my rear brake calliper. Oh well, I thought, and began to ride off towards the start. But the large scraping noise coming from my rear brake stopped me about 20 meters down the track. Swear words coming thick and fast from my mouth, I began emptying the contents of the van in search of an unbent spring! Less than 5 minutes to go before the start of the race and I hear the dreaded words from my mum, "Ed, you're not going to make the start". This has the opposite effect intended and I double the speed that I am chucking things out of the van. Finally, I find what I am looking for and after a rapid bit of spannering my bike was up and running. I sprint off to the start, thankfully making it in time, although being on the back row. Time to calm down and ready myself to race.

It is a rolling start, to make sure we're all clipped in before a very steep and loose starting climb. The siren goes and the red mist of racing descends. I make up a few places on the start climb, before we join the main course. The start of the course was a long fire road, with a horrible headwind, which I recalled from previous years. The field is still bunched up and there is a lot of jostling of positions. I manage to move up to a better position, just before the field splinters, as the course turns and the headwind becomes a crosswind. At the end of the fire road, I find myself in a group containing myself and two elites; I'm second Junior on the course. We turn sharply onto a fast section of singletrack, that runs parallel to a stream on a small steep sided valley. This goes on for a fair way, until we turn down and across the stream and up a short sharp climb. But the technical riding continues, and we turn back down to the stream, on a slippy off camber section, and proceed to ride along the stream. This has been the main feature of the course for the previous years and it seems harder going than ever. Huge boulders inhibit any form of momentum, and a slip up by the rider in front forces me and the other rider off our bikes, and we run the remainder of the section.

One of many stream crossings

Following this is a fast open section, where the three of us take it in turns on the front, each putting in the work, allowing us to pull further from the chasing riders. Interspersed with a few technical climbs and a water splash, we wind our way back to the start arena, before setting out on a shorter loop, which is just before the finish.

Going out onto the shorter loop, before the woods

The loop starts by going down a steep twisty grass descent, before a singletrack section in the only wooded part of the course. This relatively fast uphill section winds through the length of the woodland and emerges just before a very steep and loose climb. Here, the three of us splinter, each of us taking a different route up the hill, removing the problem caused if the person in front were to slip and obstruct, causing us to run. This time, we all make it up and regroup on the fire road at the top. After a fast descent, we climb up to the finish for the end of the first lap.

Heading up the 'arena' area

I remain in the group of three for the following three laps, each of us putting in the work in the wind, apart from on the third lap, where I am clinging to the back of the group, in severe oxygen debt. With one lap to go, the three of us drift part and I complete the final lap solo. I am cautious on the technical sections, taking care not to make a mistake, so not to risk the 3rd place junior catching me up.

Thankfully, I complete the lap problem free and finish the race as 2nd junior and well up the elite field. I'm pretty pleased with my result, especially with the lack of trial lap and previous luck at the venue. Fingers crossed I will have the same luck for my next race, which is the second round of the national xc series, in Cornwall, on April 28th!

Top 4 riders

I would like to thank my sponsors Boneshakers Performance Cycles, for supplying me with racing kit and also to my mum for being run about for the day, and also putting up with my pre race anger, due to my mechanical. It was a great course and the whole race was well organised, so thank you to the Nutcracker team and Altura, the race sponsor.

National XC Round 1- Sherwood Pines

On, off, on, off, on???

Heavy snowfall across the country had placed huge amounts of pressure on British Cycling, who now had to decide whether to cancel the opening round of the National XC series. Ruin the plans of the people travelling far and wide from Northern Ireland and Scotland or run the risk of health and safety and some people not being able to get to the race? Anyway, for me, a few weeks of focused training could only lead me to believe that the race was indeed on...

For many year, Sherwood Pines has been the opening round of the National XC series; famous for its fast racing, flat relief and peaty soil. Trying out the course on the day before the race, it was apparent racing wasn't going to be its usual road race-esque style.

Entering the course on the event arena, I was hit with a rutted, sapping and slippery straight. Usually, this would be where the sprints for the line and crucial taking on of food and drink would take place; now, it was about as easy as walking a tightrope. If the 'easiest' part of the course was like this, I'm not sure I was ready for what was to come.

Leaving the start straight, the course headed towards the trees, where the ground became deep in mud and snow. A usual fast section of the course was now just a mass of turns. There were a few let ups to the slog, though; short downhill sections, where bike control was paramount, and some lengths of fire road, which although weren't deep in mud, had become incredibly narrow, with there only being small snow cleared tracks along them.

The later half of the course proved no different- mud, uphill drags and barely an easy section. It was going to be a hard race, which would've been made even harder if I had kept on the same tyres that I did my recce laps on. So, after a quick stop at the bike shop on the way home for some tractor tyres the race machine was ready!



"Beep... Bee" Alarm off straight away, it was 9am, no need for an early start today. Oh the joys of having pre-ridden the course the day before! Quick check outside for snow, no more had fallen, quick check on the British Cycling website, race still on, stuff chucked in the van and off we set.
Even with porridge in hand and Arctic Monkeys on the stereo, it wasn't the most relaxing of drives. I was put on snow drift look out, with parts of the dual carriageway only one lane wide due to them. So I was unable to slip back into my usual pre-race trance, which involves contemplating how much better the warmth and comfort of the van is compared to the pain and cold of racing.
Anyway, signing on done, race kit put on and hole dug for the turbo trainer, it was time to 'warm up'. This is where your mind either completely blanks out, which mine does in most cases and did then, you psych yourself up or every bad race situation goes through your head. I've tried psyching myself before a race before, and it really doesn't do me any favours; I end up going off like the clappers and just going backwards for the entirety of the race. Thinking of bad situations pre-race doesn't really need to be explained as to why it is a bad idea.

Time for the start...
Somehow, running on last year's national rankings, I found myself on the front row the grid, amongst most of the race favourites. But I didn't let this faze me and the red mist came down... "I shall be starting you in the next 10 seconds" says the familiar Australian voice from behind.
GO!
Missed my pedal. Damn. Not a great start. 20 meters later and I've managed to get my foot in. I'm not too far down. We all bunch together, speeding into the first two corners. Man down! Last year's national champion, Sam Stean, wiped out on the inside of the first snow covered bend. A few go down with him. Thankfully, I was on the outside and I now find myself up in a top 10 position. I'm feeling ok, and I manage to move up a further a place or two. I'm now in about seventh place.

I maintain this place until about midway on the first out of three laps. That was when we hit the fire road. The previous tight singletrack had caused a build up of riders, all wanting to move up the field, some who had been taken down in the crash on the first bend. It was manic. The familiar red, white and blue stripes of Sam Stean went past, along with a bunch of riders. I put the power down and tried going with them, which lasted for a few hundred meters, tops. My legs just weren't there, nothing could make them work any harder.

That, for me, was the turning point of the race. After such a good opening half lap, I now continued to slip down the field: 13th at the end of the first lap and 16th at the end of the second, accompanied by some rather painful cramp in my lower back.

For the final lap, I was battling with Harry Forshaw, with each of us putting in valiant moves. But in the end it was him who had the better legs, and he finished one place ahead of my in 15th position.

It didn't feel like a great performance; I was really chasing a top 10 position and 16th didn't do it for me. I had rested the week before the race, so logic would suggest I'd have fresh legs. But that's racing; you have good days and you have bad days.
All I could do was go back to the drawing board, assess the problems and hopefully come back stronger next time.
I would, however, still like to thank my sponsors, boneshakersbikes.co.uk for supplying kit, to all the photographers that braved the weather, to my dad for being a great runabout as always, and especially to the race organisers for keeping the race on, despite the weather.

My next race will be at Catterick Garrison for the second round of the Nutcracker XC series on April 21st. Until then, happy riding!