Three Peaks Cyclocross 2016

The Three Peaks Cyclocross is special; it comes just once a year, and its placement on the calendar stands as tall as the wall that is Simon Fell. All of the unique style training and hard work stands for one day. One slip up or major mechanical and all that ‘trudge’ training comes to no use; you don’t see many 10 minute long sets of steps at your average cyclocross race.

For the 2016 edition, my preparation started earlier than all my previous race completions. And boy did it pay off. For the first time, my race was free of even a hint of cramp, a burden that, in a previous race, has forced me to come to a standstill on the descent of Pen-y-Ghent. Double the amount of hill reps compared to last year, and more hours in the saddle throughout the year were a recipe for a good race.

The start of the race was fraught with nerves and twitchy riders. Rain had doused the Yorkshire Dales for the hour before the start of the race, meaning damp roads, and the head of the race seemed more compacted than ever. It was harder, and more dangerous, than ever to make any moves up the bunch. Rather than 5km of supposed neutralised racing, it felt like the front end of a road race coming into the final stages before the line.Everyone was wanting to be in the same place, the front. After moving up and down the bunch like a yoyo, a last ditch move around the outside moved me up right near the head of the bunch, just before turning off the road to Gill Garth. It was time for the real racing to begin.

Simon’s Fell never gets less sickening; no matter how much training you do, or how many times you have done the event, you can never be ready for the perilously steep slopes of the first of the ‘Peaks’ offerings. I pushed hard up Ingleborough, knowing that it’s so much harder to regain places in the latter stages of the race. You’ve gotta suffer up Ingleborough, then just keep on suffering. My placing at the summit of Ingleborough was the highest of my 4 completions, and it set a good president for the rest of the race. Rocketing down to Cold Cotes, I lost a handful of places, but nothing extreme. I couldn’t risk ending my race by having a nasty crash in the sometime invisible deep bogs that litter the decent. Eventually, I reached the bottom, hurting, but unscathed.

En route to Whernside, I worked with one other rider and we pushed on to try and reach a group just a couple of hundred meters up the road. By the bottom of Whernside, we hadn’t quite caught the group, but I had survived an incredibly near miss on a greasy cattle grid at 20 odd mile an hour. Although losing a few seconds, it did seem that luck was on my side, thankfully avoiding what could have been a race ending event.

The sun came out at the bottom of Whernside, and I thought it a great idea to roll down my arm warmers, learning from experience of over heating during the event in 2015. I cracked on with the gruelling climb up the Whernside steps, almost becoming immune to the pain radiating from my legs. What I didn’t realise was that I would soon become numb from the pain with the help of a deluge of cold rain all along the ridge line of Whernside. The thought occurred to me that if I even slightly reduced the effort I was enduring, hypothermia would become a real risk. Skin tight lycra isn’t the best mountaineering clothing after all. 

As rugged and intimidating the descent of Whernside is, it almost felt like a familiar affair. I had looked at and practiced line choices before the event, and after going over it in my head over and over, I had it nailed. I gained about 5 places as a result and reached Ribblehead feeling fired up.

I soloed the road section to Horton in full TT mode. I gained one place en route, not slowing to work with the guy I passed. I hit Pen-y-Ghent lane with full force.

My calved were really screaming now and the hill of wind loomed large ahead. After turning onto the higher footpath section of the climb, the ordeal reaches its most painful. The existence of fresh legs feels a distant memory, and no matter how easy the gear is on your bike, it still ain’t easy enough! My whole body was telling me to get off and push, but although easier, it isn’t faster walking. My last reserves of energy were used to lift my wheels over the stone ribs that make the almost impossible ride just that little bit harder, until finally I succumb to the pain and push my bike on foot.

The last sections of Pen-y-Ghent became a blur, with minimal energy to power my brain and the prospect of the lights going out pretty likely. I finally reached the summit cairn before such an atrocity occurred.There was just the small matter of getting down to attend to, if only it was an easy affair.

What seems like a pretty smooth path on the ascent, becomes a bone rattling and hand cramping rollercoaster of a ride. All the previous attrition to your muscles becomes amplified, and the thought of the finish is all that gets you through. Puncture free, I hit the road at the bottom and began the final onslaught to the line; for on my wheel was a fairly strong looking Austrian rider, who had accompanied me for much of the race. Although working together for most of the section, it boiled down to a man on man sprint for the line, which he unfortunately got the better of me for. But, on the other hand, that was it…

Finished. Finito. Fini. The pain was over.

My time was 3:23:13, 5 minutes faster than my previous personal best, and my placing was 20th, my first time in the top 20. I was pretty damn happy with that. And to boot, I managed to bag the under 23 trophy and also 3rd in the father/son category with my dad- a pretty successful race.

For the second time, my Raleigh RXC Race performed brilliantly, with no mechanical hiccups whatsoever. For the fourth time, my Vittoria tyres remained puncture free and gave me ample grip. So if you need some advice, ditch those land cruisers and get on the line to Vittoria!

I would like to thank my brilliant support crew for being there with a spare bike throughout the race, and passing up the necessary nutrition to get through such a brutal, yet beautiful, race. Also, a thank you to Bioracer Omnipex who supplied the awesome looking kit, which I got to race around in.

Next year, let’s break the 3 hour 20 mark. Bring it on.

2014 Off With A Bang- Ripley Castle CX and York CX

New Year's day is the scene of celebration, drunken antics and people staying awake long into the morning of New Year's day. Normally, I wouldn't blink an eyelid and I'd be engulfed in this scene, with me probably ending up doing very little the following day. However, on New Year's day was the Ripley Castle Cyclocross race, a race that has been on my calendar for a long while. This gave me a dilemma: have a good race or have a good night.

Hmmmm… why not try have both? It was New year's after all…

So, after a reasonably fun night with all my mates, with 'some' alcohol being consumed, I got up on New Year's day as late as I possibly could. I'd ridden the course the previous day, so I had the gist of all the corners, straights and obstacles. All I needed to do was rock up, sign on and race. Simples! And, although I had for some reason I had woken up with a slight headache, I didn't feel too bad.

It was weird to see Ripley filled with hundreds of vans and bustling with familiar cycling figures. Normally a sleepy, tourist village only miles from my front door, it seemed the complete opposite scene to when I usually cycled through Ripley. One thing that was quite familiar was the rain, which poured down in bucket loads! I made my way over to signing on, pushing passed the many spectators and film crews (which was a different sight for cyclocross in the UK). But before I was able to sign on, I was collared into doing some filming for Look North, with a GoPro on my bike. I couldn't say no!

It was when I was riding parts of the course with the GoPro that I realised what the rain had done. What was lush green grass the previous day was now a quagmire, with almost every corner riding completely different to my recce the previous day. Thankfully, rain doesn't affect tarmac, cobbles and woodland so much, so those parts of the course weren't too different. In the race, they'd prove a welcome break to conditions similar to the Somme! But, to give you a quick insight into the course's features, here's a few words that sprung to mind: mud, steps, scaffold-bridge, cobbles, roots, disco-temple (oh yes!), adverse camber, hurdles, gravel, wood-chippings, oh, and some awesome local spectators!

The cobbles

So, onto the race. To start, I was gridded on the second row; I positioned myself behind Paul Oldham, knowing he'd set off well and would probably end up winning the race. So, as the gun went, and I broke my shivering stance on the start line, I put feet to the pedals and the red mist of racing came down. Within 100 meters, sleek, lycra clad cyclists, me included, had become mud men, with muddy water dripping from both bikes and bodies.

My start was good, and for quite a while I had contact with the lead group. But the pace of Oldham and Bibby on the front soon smashed the race to smithereens. After about a lap, the chaos settled down a tad and I found myself in a group with Chris Barnes and James Thompson.

The nature of the course didn't allow much 'working together', so it was more of a battle than gentlemanly affair. Eventually, Chris got away, but the elastic between me and James didn't break. James put in some big efforts on the straights, leaving me scrapping behind with my legs burning, but I too tried to get away, using my strength in running to get away on the off camber section alongside the ha-ha wall.

A couple of laps later, and I was starting to fatigue, and James eventually got a significant gap on me, which was helped by me being cocky and attempting to bunny hop the hurdles, which ended up with me on the ground. Nevertheless, I pushed on, hoping to catch any rider unfortunate enough to have a mechanical or crash. One such rider was Jake Poole, who I soon caught up and passed, but was obviously not 100%, most likely due to the horrendous weather.

The last few laps passed by, seeming no easier than the previous frantic laps playing cat and mouse with James. And so it was, the last lap; all I needed to do was keep up the tempo and roll home, but it wash't to be the case. Just after passing the pits for the last time, I rolled my rear tub on the hairpin bend. S***, I thought. But, straight away set off running, hoping no one would catch me before the line. I exchanged a glance with my dad in the pits, which I can only assume looked like a mixture between sadness and annoyance.

Unfortunately, I was caught by two riders before finally crossing the finish line, knackered, muddy and a bit peeved off.

After crossing the line

I finished the race in 15th position, which looking back wasn't too bad. But minus the rolled tub and the strange headache I woke up with, it would have been much closer to a top 10 placing. Back to the glueing board!

I also raced, last weekend, at York Sports Village, after deciding not to go down to Shropshire for the National Trophy. It was the third time I'd ridden the venue, with the course pretty similar to the night event I did there before just christmas. It wasn't a massive event, so I was hoping to come out with a podium position.

On the day, the course was greasy on top, with some very boggy sections before and after the finish line. Sadly, due to rolling my mud tubular at Ripley, I had to use a much less grippy tyre on the rear wheel, which made cornering very sketchy.

For the majority of the race I was playing catch the mouse. Tom Ramsey, Crosstrax, had set off like a bullet from a gun and had a 12 second gap after the first lap. This left me and Darren Binks suffering in his wake.

It wasn't until the penultimate lap that we caught Tom. I couldn't take the corners as fast as Darren and Tom, so this hampered my lap by lap gains and sometimes left me digging deep to latch back onto Darren's wheel. When the junction with Tom was made, the tempo slowed right down; it was obviously going to be a very tactical finish.

Just before receiving the bell for the last lap, I made a break for it on the tarmac section of the course. I managed to stretch out a 20 meter gap. But, turning back onto the mud I managed to overshoot, definitely carrying too much speed. Tom was back on my wheel, but I had managed to break Darren, who was still 20 meters behind us.

Tactically, I went into the sloppiest corners first, so that Tom couldn't gain any advantage with my lack of grip. This worked, and we stayed together until passing the pits for the final time. This was where I made another attack, it was all or nothing.

On the tarmac I managed to string out another gap, maybe 15 meters this time. I turned left, back onto the mud, but must have subconsciously taken it too cautiously as Tom had latched back onto my wheel. There was only 100 or so boggy meters to the line. Both me and Tom were aiming for the right hand line, which had seemed to be the fastest. Both of us converged onto the marginally drier line, but managed to collide. Tom went down, but I just about kept up and pushed on.

I crossed the line with my first ever Senior win! It was great to put my hands in the air and take the top step of the podium, especially with it being so close to the end of the season.

For both Ripley and York, I would like to thank my dad for pitting and cxmagazine.com for the kit and support. My final race of the cyclocross season will be the National Championships this weekend in Derby, then it'll be all eyes on the mountainbike!

Todmorden CX- Yorkshire Points Round 9

Todmordennoun1 A town in Calderdale, West Yorkshire.2 A permanent mud bath, where crazy cyclo-crossers grind up cobbles, battle through mud and run up steps each year.

Every time I have raced at Todmorden, except once, there has been deep mud; thick, sticky mud that makes every inch of the course a leg busting slog. For that one exception, the course had frozen solid, which turned it into a skating rink, with some of the course removed for being too dangerous. I'm not sure there has ever been a race a Tod with dry, green grass, even for the summer series race it was a mud bath. For the final round of the Yorkshire Points Cyclocross series, it was no exception, with much of the course unridable or quicker to run, due to thick, deep mud.

After getting to the race early, I sat in the van and thought why the hell I was there. Outside, it was only just above freezing and I'd have to go and prance about in deep mud for an hour, whilst freezing my knackers off. I began to think what I could get from the race: the satisfaction of races, the ability to indulge in large quantities of food afterwards, complete my set of 7 races to count for the series, maybe get a great result… the list goes on. But, all I could think in my head was of the warmth of my bed, that I had dragged myself from to come to this muddy and cold park in the depth of the Pennines.

However, I soon realised I was being a complete wimp, pulled on my cycling gear and headed out to the course.

There weren't many changes to the course compared to previous years. The start loop took you around two waterlogged football pitches, as if to say "if you weren't cold on the start line, you sure will be now!", and then joined the proper course just after the finish line, the start of the upwards struggle. Although the first section was pretty flat, the deep mud made it feel like a 20% gradient, with it only marginally quicker to ride, over run. After a quick 'break' on the tarmac path, you hit a wall of sheer mud, deep enough to engulf your shoe and ankle, which took you higher up the valley side. Sadly, this resulted in your feet turning into two balls of mud, which made clipping in for the following stretch of path a nightmare. This path was the calm before the storm, or the hill before the mountain. After taking the sharp right hand bend at the end of the path, you are faced with "The Chimney", as it is called on Strava. A few hundred meter section of cobbles, with an average gradient of over 20%; not hard enough for you? Add in the fact that the cobbles are as slippery as ice, meaning standing up is not an option. Running is also not a good idea; there is very little room alongside the cobbles, and cycling shoes definitely won't grip them. When the suffering does end, and you reach the top of the cobbles, there is a slight relief that the course is pretty much downhill from there. The top section of the descent incorporates a tight chicane, and then small a set of steps, made possible by the course coming back in itself. From there to the pits, it was nearly all mud, which mostly was quicker to run, even with the downhill gradient. Then, after a definite bike change, you negotiated the small maze of slippery hairpins, before crossing the finish line.

Tough, but fun. Any thoughts of my nice warm bed had now long gone from my head. Time to race!

I sat on the start line cold, but focussed on a good start off the line, which is actually what I didn't get. I set off, but my legs seemed to have no go. I tried to power on, but people just kept coming past; this wasn't a good sign. I kept powering on and eventually I stopped slipping back places and actually made some advancement. I made up a few places on the boggy slog, and then nearly half a dozen on the 'wall of mud' run up. Finally I was finding some speed! After a little bit of a let up on the path, we hit the cobbles. I rode them nearly all the way to the top, but a rider in front had slipped, forcing us all the get off and run. Everyone decided to jump back on their bike pretty much straight away at the top, but I decided to run that little bit further. This gained me about another 3 places, and I was finally among my usual rivals.

The infamous cobbles

For the start of the next lap, I was alongside Ben Cooper, who I'd been very close to in previous races. On one of the running sections we joked "what a nice day for a run it was" (obviously not trying hard enough). I was with him until the cobbles, where I managed to dig deep, avoid slipping and ride all the way to the top of them. I'd managed to open a gap on Ben, and, so, set to work catching James Dalton.

I eventually caught James, and stayed with him for a few laps. Then, like I did with Ben, I managed to drop him on the cobbles. I was free to keep pushing on, with the next rider in my sights being Jon Hopkinson.

I measured my gains on Jon with the top section of the course, where it loops back on itself. I was hardly catching up with him though, and, behind, Ben Cooper was making his way back up to my wheel. I checked my watch- 45 minutes of racing gone. The bell can't be far away!

I really dug deep for the last two laps, and began to see I was starting to catch Jon. I powered up the cobbles for the penultimate time, and pushed on to the descent. That was where disaster struck; my tub rolled on the first corner of the chicane. I pulled it back on as quickly as possible, but by this time Ben had caught be up and powered on ahead. I was able to ride on my tub, but I had to take it carefully on all of the corners, which meant Ben's gap only increased.

I changed bikes in the pits, just before receiving the bell, for the last lap. Ben now had a large gap, and there was little chance of me catching him. Naturally, my pace eased slightly, and I carefully made my way around the last lap, trying not to make any last minute mistakes.

I crossed the line in 7th place overall, which was one of my best results of the season, and pretty commendable considering my start. But in my head all I could think of was the 6th place and potential 5th place I could have had, if it would have not been for my tub rolling with a lap and a half to go.

7th place though, I have to say, was still a pretty good placing, which was made even better when I found out that it had pushed me up to 5th overall in the Yorkshire Points series. 2 points ahead of Dave Morris, who I'd had many battles with though the series.

I'd like to thank my amazing pit crew, who had to work none stop for this race due to the mud. My next race is at Ripley Castle on New Year's Day; perfect for starting 2014 with.

Addicted to cross? Then check out www.cxmagazine.com for all the latest news, reviews and action from around the globe; and if you like what you see, why not subscribe and get 10% off by using our voucher code, which you can get by dropping me a message.

North of England Cyclocross Championships- York

A lot of people think that there is no such thing as luck. Supposedly, the more training and preparation that you do for something the luckier you get; in other words saying that luck is just another way of denoting the amount of preparation someone has done. Although I believe this to be true, in a bike race you will always need a bit of pure luck. Last month I experienced very little luck, resulting in a DNF because of a mechanical, a missed race because of illness and another mechanical, reducing any chances of winning the race. November was an incredibly frustrating month, and I wanted to start December off on a positive note, hopefully, with a good result at the North of England Cyclocross Championships.

To the soundtrack of Muse and White Lies, I arrived at the venue, York Sports Village, nice an early, with time to get a practice lap in and watch some of the other racing. The Senior race, which I was competing, was not starting until 2:30, so I was still deciding whether or not to put my bright winter lights on for the later stages of the race.

Should be suffering not grinning- sorry!

From afar, I have to admit I didn't really like the look of the course- it looked flat and a bit 'tame' for my liking. I've never really suited flat, fast course; hard gruelling climbs, tight technical singletrack descents and a good load of running was more my cup of tea. But, on my practice lap I found that the course had more depth than just an off road crit race circuit; there were a few stings in the tail. The course began with a number of sweeping, slippy corners, some being off camber, which snaked their way around the area in front of the sports complex (I'm sure any spectators watching the swimming would have been distracted by the more interesting event happening outside). After one final sharp left corner, the course headed straight, passing the pits for the first time, and up to the higher part of the course. A number of switchbacks took the course higher up the gradual banking. At the top was two very slippy off camber climbs, which had multiple route choices and felt like a balancing act between power and stability while riding them. Following on from this, the course entered deeper mud, where the course took a sharp right over a steep sided ridge. In practice I was able to ride the ridge, but sharp drop coming off of it resulted in a momentary front wheel manual. Definitely a runner in the race. From there, the course headed down towards the pits again, with a tight chicane and a few sweeping corners on the way. From the second passing of the pits to the finish there was very little technical riding. The course followed a fenced ginnel, before emerging on the neighbouring road race circuit, for the final stretch of the lap. You don't usually have such a long section of tarmac in cyclocross races, but this section really added something to the course and I thought it was pretty cool- a nice component to a pretty fun and varied course.

The team

Anyway, onto the race.

Being the North of England Championships, the field size was about double the size of a normal Yorkshire Points race. The cream of the crop had come from the North East, North West and, of course, Yorkshire to battle it out here in York, which added to my surprise when upon gridding I was called up for the second row- there was no excuse for a bad start now!

Thankfully, come the fire of the gun, I got my foot in and was away and still high up the field 200 meters up the road. The skittishness of riders behind me on the first corner adided my advantage. Entering the offroad section for the first time, the field had already become strung out, but I was sat in the top quarter and was hungry for more places, I felt good.

Not long after, gaps began to form and grow, gaps that I made it my mission to bridge. I managed to pick off a few places without any major injects of pace; I simply maintained a good tempo and gradually caught up with the next wheel up the road. I was ahead of the usual race nemesis Dave Morris, as well as a few others I'm normally battling with. Feeling comfortable, I watched the minutes tick by on my Garmin; but maybe I was feeling too comfortable, for behind me, gaining time on me each lap, was Ben Cooper, a fellow under 23 and a threat to my current position in the class.

A couple of laps later, Ben bridged the gap to me, immediately trying to pass and drop me, but I was straight onto him and sat on his wheel. By this time, I had worked out that me and Ben stood as second and third under 23 on the road. My main focus went on sticking with Ben and trying to get that second place.

The sun began to droop towards the end of the race

I sat on Ben's wheel for most of the race; we were both pushing hard, but he couldn't drop me, and all I wanted to do was stick with him. I didn't even think of riders up ahead, but I knew no one could catch us. In my head, I was planning on attacking Ben with a lap to go, and do as little work as possible during the sections with headwinds.

With about 1 to 2 laps to go, I made my move, trying to get a gap on Ben. I pushed hard for maybe a quarter of a lap, but I didn't succeed and we came back together. I could tell it was not just me who was fatigued; Ben and me were both breathing deeply and suffering a little. Unfortunately, this got to me more and just before receiving the bell to signify the last lap, I made a stupid mistake on the off-camber section, loosing some time, and Ben got away. I chased hard. I couldn't let him get away after our near whole-race ordeal.

Pushing hard to get back onto Ben's wheel

Just after the bell, I got back onto the wheel of Ben, but this time I was definitely more fatigued than him. I couldn't pass him, so just sat on his wheel and tried to get a little respite. But then came that off-camber banking again. It was either psychological or just plain fatigue that caused me to make the same mistake I made the previous lap, but nevertheless, it resulted in the same outcome. Ben got away again, which left me chasing.

With less than half a lap to go, Ben had about 30 meters on me, and I was digging desperately deep to claw it back. We both entered the tarmac section, running up to the finish line, with about 20 meters between us. We sped round the final two corners, coming into the final straight, with Ben still ahead. I stood up, putting in all I could to try and get him on the line. But it was not to be. Ben finished just under 10 meters ahead of me, meaning I finished as 3rd under 23. A bit annoying, but hey, 3rd is still pretty good.

There was a silver lining to my slight annoyance though. The battle between me and Ben in the final couple of laps meant we made up about 3 places overall in the Senior race. This meant that we finished 11th and 12th, which I have to say, I'm pretty damn pleased with. It was nice to see that a bit of proper training was taking effect, and I was definitely in a good mood that evening.

There was a pretty stunning sunset over the course

Finally, I would just like to say thank you to my dad for pitting for me, as usual, to my mum for the photographs I have used, and also to cxmagazine.com for kit and support. Check them out at http://www.cxmagazine.com where you can currently get 10% off a subscription, a perfect gift for any cyclocross fan this christmas. If you want the voucher code, just drop me an email and I will happily sent it out to you.

My next race will be the National Trophy cyclocross at Peel Park, Bradford this Sunday. It's gonna be a muddy one!

Up, downs and more downs- November race round up

Beautiful scenery, great cafes and no school. At the end of October I was lucky enough to spend a week in the lowlands of Scotland getting some good training rides in amongst some of the best scenery the UK has to offer. Although initially disappointed about taking road bikes instead of mountain bikes, being so close the trail heavens of Glentress and Innerleithen, the quiet, scenic passes soon made up for it. Ride after ride provided beautiful views, awesome descents and Alpine-esque climbs; I couldn't help but go out and ride. During the week I got in some good quality training and was looking forward to testing out my form at the Graves Park cyclocross, in  Sheffield, on the first weekend on November. I'd ridden there before, and still had a clear recollection of the steep, technical singletrack and almost vertical run up. For me, it was a course that ranked highly. I couldn't wait for it.

However, waking up on the day before the Graves Park race, reacclimatised to English weather (what felt like 10 degrees warmer), my body had different ideas about racing. My stomach felt like it had quartered in size, which forced me to hunch over, with the result of severe pain if I stood up straight. Much to my disappointment, the pain was still present come race day. I remember how much I wanted to race, but I knew that I probably wouldn't survive a lap if I did manage to actually start. It was frustrating that I couldn't give my legs a good beating and try out on such a good course; but after an eventual visit to the hospital, I was certain I'd made the right choice in not racing. All I could do was rest up and look forward to the next weekend's racing.

The following weekend I was back in Sheffield, making it three weekends in a row racing in and around the city. Future town of residence maybe? It at least seemed to be hinting at it. This weekend it was the final round of the British Mountainbike Orienteering Series, and I needed a good result to complete my counting number of races. However, my desire did not become reality and I had to settle for a below parr time and position after suffering a puncture early on in the race. It was a shame as I had quickly got myself into a rhythm and had negotiated the first 7 or so controls with no problems. After racing in Portugal less than a month previous, I had some new found experience with MTBO, and I could tell. Unfortunately, the puncture cost me over 5 minutes, which in the end considerably shoved me down the rankings. On the plus side though, I was able to finish the race and didn't have to settle for a DNF next to my name. The area used for the race was awesome; it provided technical navigation, amazing riding and some unusual features (one control was inside of an abandoned building). The race definitely put the MTB into MTBO; tight singletrack snaked all over the area, and it was choosing between these tracks and the slightly longer but less technical, wide paths that in the end decided the overall winner. It was just a shame I was not up there contesting that top spot.

After two weekends of racing and no good race results, I did finally get one pleasing result. I'm guessing lady luck thought it was only fair, with it being my birthday the previous Friday. On the third weekend in November, I competed at the annual Ilkley cyclocross race, deciding not to race at the national trophy in Durham due to a large amount of alcohol being consumed two days earlier for my 18th birthday. And, I have to say, I am very glad I did race at Ilkley; the course was immense! Joining the course, for my warm up lap, on the lower part, I got the impression that it was just your ordinary cyclocross course; lots of grass, lots of corners and some mud thrown in for good measure. It would have been an OK course with just this, but it was nothing special. However, the course eventually did swing off and into the neighbouring woods, getting a whole lot steeper in the process. After a few twists and turns taking the course higher, the gradient ramped up again, this time, making it unrideable. The run up was only just runnable; the mud had made it incredibly slippy and walking was very tempting. The gradient did subside a little, but it was still quicker to keep running rather than jump back on- the top way in sight. A hairpin bend saw the course rocket downwards, MTB style. Fast off camber corners littered the decent, and the roadies were to be put far out of their comfort zones. Near the bottom, the course turned 90 degrees and continued across the hillside, still in the woodland. This section had the deepest mud, which resulted in going over the bars if ridden (I tried by the way). After a quick woodland path and one more steep, slippy corner the course emerged from the trees onto the grassland. Following a short grassy drag and the finish line was in sight, which marked the end of the lap. Time to warm up and make my way to the start line.

I got a reasonable start and was up in the top 5 going into the first section of corners. Before entering the woodland I was up in third and decided to make one final move to get into second before the run up- it didn't end well. The course narrowed as it entered the woodland, and both me and second place tried to pass through the fenced narrow section at once. This resulted in a large bottle neck and my chain coming off. I got my bike working as quickly as I possibly could, but it made me slip back around 5 places and I was only just inside of the top 10. Thankfully, my anger and annoyance gave me a surge of adrenaline and I set straight to work picking back the places. I took full use of my running strength and was back up in third by the top of the climb. I was barely conscious and I was certainly in oxygen debt now, but it was downhill from there, I could recover. A few mistakes were made on the descent; my efforts had obviously taken their toll. But when back on flat land and out into the open again, I put on the pressure and moved up into second, setting my eyes on first place.

Lap after lap, I could see I was advancing on Tom Seaman, the current leader. A few seconds were gained here and there for about 3 laps, that was until I made the junction with him. Here the race became man against man and survival of the fittest (and most technically competent). From here until the end of the race, both me and Tom made numerous mistakes and attempts to break from each other, but going into the final lap, we were still together. At this point, I was suffering; having to make those efforts early on to regain contention had really hit me, plus I'm sure the two nights out previous to the race, celebrating my birthday, did not help! We entered the woods together, with Tom leading, but that was the last I saw of him. Ascending the run up, I realised I had nothing more to give and couldn't keep on the back foot of Tom. I continued to push hard, but Tom had a clean ride to the finish and, in the end, took the win.

I was pretty pleased with my result; I could feel the results of the training I had put in and bearing in mind my birthday antics, it was a better placing than I was expecting. Anyway, onto the next and final race of the month.

Beverley was host for the penultimate round of the Yorkshire points cyclocross league; it was a new course and was a pretty good one, also. It had a mixture of short sharp climbs, longs drags and tight off camber corner, plus a bunny-hoppable set of hurdles (well at least for some). It had most things you'd expect from a cross course, which was pretty good for a new venue. All I needed to do was tear it up and have a good race!

My start wasn't great; I missed my pedal and I was sat in about 7th come the first corner. But I didn't fret and kept calm. For the first lap I picked off the places, with no over the top efforts and I soon found myself right up in the top three. Paul Cox was leading at this point, but was a long way ahead of the field. The fight for second place was very heated though. A group of about three or four, including me, stayed together for the first lap; each of us were testing the water and trying to splinter the group, but the elastic did not snap. However, coming into the hurdles on the second lap, Bruce Dalton came down, bringing me with him. I managed to get back up and ride away quickly, but Bruce lost quite a bit of time and our small group had splintered. After digging deep, I managed to get onto the wheel of Ben Cooper, and we stayed as a pair for most of the third lap. But that was when disaster struck, about two thirds around the third lap I came down hard, washing out on one of the hairpin bends. Running up the following bank, I heard a load metallic noise coming from my bike- my rear wheel was not spinning properly. I quickly mounted the bike on my shoulder and set off for the pits. At the time I did not know what the problem was; I assumed a broken spoke or something similar. I found out later that I had landed on my rear mech and it had bent into my wheel. For the rest of the race I was on my spare bike, which wasn't too much of an issue, except for the time lost running to the pits to swap for it. With the crash, I had lost about 15 places, which I would have usually made up the majority of. But the crash had also affected my back, which was now hurt a lot. I ploughed on, keeping in roughly the same position. Lap after lap, I considered pulling out, but something in my head hated the idea of a DNF and I managed to complete the race, finishing in 16th position.

So there we are, a month of racing with only one good result to take from it; on the surface, very annoying, but experience was gained and glimpses of some form were there. I would like to thank my taxi driver and pit monkey, my dad, for helping me in November and also to cxmagazine.com for their kit and support. Here's a link to their website (http://www.cxmagazine.com) if you want to check them out. They have all the latest kit reviews, training tips and cyclocross news. If you like what you see you can subscribe to their quarterly magazine, which has even more news, reviews and info to satisfy your cyclocross appetite.

In November, the team acquired another sponsor, which is Silicone Tidds. They create small rubber stops to replace unused bolts on your frame, which look good and save weight at the same time. If your interested, head to http://www.siliconetidds.com.

My next race is the North of England Championships, this coming weekend in York. I'm looking forward to see if I can have a trouble free race this time! Until then, happy riding.

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.