| Round Two – Kielder Forest, Northumberland | 11th – 12th June 2011 |
| Round Three – Innerleithen, Tweed Valley | 15th-16th July 2011 |
| Round Four – Eastridge, Shropshire | 6th-7th August 2011 |
| Round Five – Afan Forest, West Glamorgan | 10th-11th September |
After waiting months to get my chance to actually have a go a racing, the four week wait for round
two seemed to take even longer.
The experience at Ae Forest had got the bit well and truly between the teeth, and in between the two events, I could think of little else other than getting faster. I spent more time gym training, getting as much MTB time as possible, and if all else failed, simply peddling the long way home from work. By the time Kielder came around, I felt considerably more prepared.
You’ve got to dry ‘em somehow!
Having spent a couple of holidays at Kielder in recent years, arriving there on the Friday evening felt familiar, and this helped to remove the element of unknown that hung over Ae. I was ready to race.
I short recce walk with my support crew (wife Helen and Greyhound Marac), and the taped up stages were looking well; fast, interesting, but most importantly, dry. A Gravity Enduro race with dust? It won’t last....
The race weekend consists of a timed qualifying run (seeding) which usually starts at around four, then racing commences on Sunday morning in order of seeding, with the slowest first. The idea is that you have time to ride around the whole course on Saturday, usually five stages, and get an idea of what to expect on Sunday. Once you’ve checked out the stages, you qualify, and then get ready for the race. At Ae I was preoccupied with the qualifier stage, which meant I didn’t recce the whole course before racing, and ended up doing some stages blind. I’d learnt my lesson, and a full day’s practicing was in order.
Up and off for practice by about nine on Saturday, and rolling round to stage one and I was already recognising faces from Ae. It seemed I wasn’t the only one bitten by the Enduro bug, and everyone seemed happy to be back, comparing notes from Ae, and some already had done a loop of the Kielder course on Friday.
The loop took a couple of hours, back in time to bung another practice run in on the seeding stage, then homemade flapjack (more power) and wait for seeding. Qualifying came and went, and then I went for a practice of Stage two, by far the longest stage I’d seen in the contest so far.
Race morning, and rolled out of a slightly misty campsite and into the woods. Stage one was the homemade stage, using none of the existing trail centre, and carving its old school way through good old off camber grass banks, and plenty of roots. Its funny how the off piste stuff reminds you that it’s bad to get too accustomed to trail centres. Some of my old skills had gone missing in action, and less Dalby Red Route was the prescription.
Stage Two, feet up, flat out.
A long plod up a fire road to Stage two was next, a good chance to gauge the mood of fellow competitors. Some had put lots of training in, while others had not had the chance due to the usual stuff that stops us doing cool stuff all the time (work/DIY/kids/relatives – you delete as appropriate). Two themes remained constant though, it was good to be back behind a number board, and the Rock Shox Reverb seat post is top of the upgrade list.
Now, stage two was going to be a tester due to the length. I’d ridden it twice already in practice, and had decided that suited me well, and was definitely somewhere I could claw back some time from the more technical riders. It was split into two by a fire road, and slight uphill bit in the middle. My plan was to ‘pump & flow’ my way through the first bit to preserve energy, and then nail it on the second.
Lined up waiting to go, and rider after rider pedalled off into the stage until it was finally my turn. Counted down by the marshal, and I’m off into the first section of standard issue red grade singletrack. Steady. Trying to maintain a steady pace but not over exert in the first part of the stage was never going to be easy, the temptation to give it all you’ve got is overwhelming. Steady. Down and over the large rock slab with built in water feature, keep pumping. Steady. Some sneaky up bits, and get glimpses of riders still making their way to the start, all shouting to go faster. Steady. Next rider is twenty seconds behind, but there will be another one twenty seconds in front of me. Steady. Is my strategy really a good idea? Have I just dropped a load of valuable seconds? Steady. Then the trail breaks out onto the fire road climb, keep it in the middle ring. Steady, then through the gate onto the second part of the stage – go, go, go! Fast, narrow woodland singletrack, with some rocks buried just out of sight under the greenery. I’m giving it all I’ve got, and constantly reminding myself to stay off the brakes. The gradient is dropping off, and I’m wondering how much longer when I catch sight of the rider ahead of me. This is a bit like hitting some kind of MTB Nitros switch. He is in my sights, and I keep increasing my pace, convinced that my strategy has resulted in the gain. Onto the final stretch where the main road comes into sight, narrowly miss the photographer (get out of the way – I’m racing!) and drop onto the flat for the sprint to the line. Close, but just out of reach as I make the last lunge to beat him to the line. The next rider behind me seems to be a while. I wonder if my strategy had helped. Won’t know until I can analyse the time when I get home. Helen is on hand to hand me some more SuperPower Flapjack (no illegal’s before you ask!), and it’s off to stage three. (I was 14 seconds up on rider in front, and 29 seconds up on rider behind).
Mick Hucknall sorts the timing systems out...
One of the great things about the Gravity Enduro is the variety of competitors that line up together at each stage. At one end there are those who want to try out racing for the first time (me, for instance), then at the other are some former and current World Cup Level Downhill competitors, such as Chris Ball, Crawford Carrick-Anderson, and Helen Gaskell. To watch these guy’s roll in at the start of a stage is quite something and leaves you in no doubt that you’ve got a lot of work to do if you really want to do well. At the start of stage three, the line of sight means you can watch each rider some way before they disappear out of sight. A crowd gathers as the last of the Senior category, Mr Crawford Carrick-Anderson drops in. Watching him progress into the stage and everyone else looks like they were freewheeling. He honestly looks like a video on fast forward. A few riders later, and it’s my turn. No holding back on this one, a short, rock drop infested mini downhill run. Some sketchy moments later, and it’s all over, next rider down a bit to close behind meaning he’s caught me up. Stop mincing.
The day progresses through another rock fest at stage four, where I manage to let the bike go a bit more, and then it’s back to stage five. By this point, I’ve already ridden this stage three times, as it was used as the seeding run yesterday, so confidence is high. Waiting time on the final stage isn’t long, and I barely have time to adjust my suspension from climb to descend when I’m called forward. The number given at the first round in Ae will stay with me the whole series, so when the marshal yells ‘597’, it’s just a minute before you are counted down to launch onto the final stage.
Stage Four, stay off the brakes – use the force.
The final stage is a good mix of Kielder’s Deadwater trail, but does involve quite a bit of pedalling, so no room for complacency. I take particular comfort from a section midway down, that looks just like Dalby’s Wetmoor Dyke (aka the Bombholes), a personal favourite, and as I see tyre marks showing other riders missing berms or dropping into the drainage ditch, I keep focused in using the familiar trail to get every last bit of speed I can. Pedal, pedal, pedal down into the final bit of woods, where I can hear AC-DC on the tannoy at the finish line. This is worth at least five MPH more, and I manage a two wheel drift as the track crosses the tarmac road to the finish line.
The Job is done, and this time I feel like I’ve given my best. There is always room for post-match analysis, but I honestly feel the progression from the last round is monumental, and crucially I feel more at home strapping on a number board, and ripping my bike faster than I have ever previously gone. 134th place out of 172 riders feels good, but unsure how this correlates with my previous result of 165th out of 229. Fortunately, a web site called roots and rain (www.rootsandrain.com) helps out with the analysis, and is a useful training tool to help you see where you have improved, and where you need to work harder.
I pack the bike away, (support crew have already packed the tent and everything else), and we go to watch the presentations, then home.
Ten minutes into the drive, and the sunshine gives way to heavy rain, the exact opposite to Ae. As Helen drives the winding road out of Kielder, I’m knackered and nodding off while my over active mind is simultaneously processing the correct line through every bend and dip our car passes through. I think I’m getting into this racing lark.
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