Ted goes to Todmorden

Todmorden

Ted Sarmiento heads West across the vastness of Yorkshire and tackles an event shrouded in myths and legends, not to mention mud and cobbles.

I’ll start with a conversation overheard at the recent Bradford National Trophy:

"I reckon Peel Park has to the best National Trophy Cyclo-Cross course in the country"

"What you on about? It's not even the best Cyclo-Cross course in Yorkshire"

This made me chuckle at the time, but it also tells you something about a) the quality of the racing in these parts, b) just how stupidly BIG Yorkshire actually is and c) the sense of humour prevalent around these parts. Todmorden is proper miles from my part of Yorkshire and genuine contender for the title of Yorkshire's top course. But, however far you travel to reach it, you definitely need to bring your sense of humour with you if you intend to enjoy the experience.

The event enjoys a fearsome reputation and is regarded as something of a “classic” in ‘Cross circles. Not one to be put off by a bit of 'technical' I literally went up hill and down dale to get over to this race and ride for myself.

I'd heard about the mud and cobbles, so I cleverly got my hands on some mud specific tyres. Imagine my shock on the practice lap (I could only summon enough reserves for one) when I found that the vast majority of the race was actually on hardpack paths. But it's not the majority that is the problem: no, it's the minority features that count here.

The first and biggest “minority feature” is the cobbled climb. If there was a saying about the cobbles, it might go a bit like this – “Ride 'em and you'll do well, don't ride 'em and….?” Well you can guess the rest! However, perhaps because most riders are reduced to speechless impotence by this wickedly slippery mosaic of shining stones, there isn’t a saying about the cobbles that I’m aware of. All I can say is that I didn't, or, frankly, couldn't “Ride ‘em!”

The second “minority feature” is the down-hill slop-fests. Now these are Fun, with a capital F. But are they quicker to run? Probably, but aren't we here to enjoy ourselves? Oh yeah, we're here to race, drat.

Finally we have the infamous “minority feature” of the cloying mud on the lower 'veld' section of the course. Again, is it faster to run it? Do you change tactics for the second half of the race when it really cuts up? Decisions, decisions. Oh who cares? Let's race.

So it's off we go for the start loop, a lap of a waterlogged soccer pitch, along with fifty-odd other Vet-40s with the Vet-50s and women chasing us down two minutes later. Another great start and I'm up with the leaders on the first corner, where it promptly gets seriously boggy and my power curve heads South.

On to the course proper and it's more of the same, but something great happens, we get a full musical accompaniment from a drumming group. Fantastic. It almost makes the silly run uphill, when I reach the cobbles, enjoyable. This being a run that makes Bradford's wall look tame, and that's not a good thing.

Then it’s hardpack, cobbles, hardpack, slop, hardpack, steps, hardpack, slop, more slop, pits, more slop etc. In other words, a seriously tricky 'cross race.

Fortunately I had support in the pits with a spare bike and cleaning facilities which allowed me two changes during the race: I was so grateful for these I could almost have wept.

Laatste ronde! Into the final bit of slop and a Harrogate Nova club mate runs past me. It's Tim Evans and as a Vet-50 he's caught me for two minutes! But more importantly – this still being a race - he shows me how to take a few places, by getting off and running downhill! I don't need asking twice and peg it down to the pits and then ride on to the finish to offer my heartfelt congratulations (snagger fragger) to Tim. A terrific race, but brutal by any 'cross standards.

So, how did Tim catch me? Simple: he rode the cobbles. Doff caps in unison!

Paul Lehan, Ted Sarmiento and Tim 'Pave' Evans

Thanks as ever go to pit crew, shouts form the trackside, race marshals, cxmagazine.com, Tidds and Bioracer cycle clothing from Belgium, the home of 'cross. And of course Chipps Chippendale and the YCCA for organising this one. Back next year to ride the cobbles? Maybe!

Race result 25 of 56 (7 DNFs!)

Steve: Bradfod Trophy and Forestry

Peel Park, Bradford. Sound’s like any other venue. It’s not. It’s a combination of factors. Firstly, Bradford is the epicentre of Yorkshire, the county where they conceived the sadomasochistic Three Peaks Cyclocross. A race where competitors compare vibration white finger syndrome post race and spectators choose their vantage points proportionate to the likelihood of riders doing endos. Secondly it’s a classic course…..if you went to see The Clash in concert, you’d choose The Hammersith Odeon over the NEC…..With Bradford, you know what you’re going to get. Mud, off camber, crashes, partisan spectators (cycling’s a religion in Yorkshire), apocalyptic pits and a great course.

One lap on soft mixed setup of FMB/Rhino’s more or less confirmed what was in store. A classic post overnight rain race where pit crews were undoubtedly going to be busy, if not frantic. Two more laps and the Addict weighed roughly 25lbs. There was little to be gained by riding more and more practice laps, other than to see how the conditions were developing. Now was the time for keeping warm.

As I went to sign on, a perfectly timed distraction meant that I committed the schoolboy error of not signing on, an appalling mistake for a qualified commissaire, and I was lucky to have sufficient time between the UCI com’s verbal spanking and my name being read out for gridding to rectify the situation.

Gridded four rows back next to Paul Lehan, I guessed the uphill tarmac start might see me struggle, and it came as a surprise to hardly loose any places at the start. As we rounded the first proper corner, the realisation that 1.4bar might be alright for warming up chatting with my pals. However, committed riding, with even more committed tyre folding mid bend was going to end in tears or worse still a 'I've-always-used-your-products-and-I'm-a-fan-of-British-engineering-and-by-the-way-are-those-rims-still-available-as-spares?' letter to our friends in Lancashire sooner or later. Second time through the pits, I grunted a breathless “BACKSTOOSOFTNEXTTIME” as I went through in a small group. I saw Dave immediately spring into action sourcing a track pump for my spare bike.

As I came through the pits next time, I knew I’d had a good half lap as the elastic had broken as I’d dropped my group, I elected to delay swapping just for the time being as I consolidated my gap by really trying to get the power on fast coming out of the slower turns and stay off the brakes. I'd got a good gap as Steve Bottomley came through, I didn’t need much persuading to latch onto him, feeling as proud as punch to mix it in good company.

Through the pits and onto the spare bike with more pressure, it felt fast with a nice clean front tyre gripping like glue at first. I still had a gap, on a cluster of three perhaps ten, twelve seconds. I wanted more and saw regaining Steve as my ticket. As we came down ‘the’ descent I kept my brakes off to carry as much speed as possible and not compromise steering by silly braking.

After the crash…..people asked me where it happened. I could tell from their glazed over expression that they couldn’t even remember the slight kink it all went horribly wrong for me. I suppose there’s a simple logic. The less the bend, the faster one’s going when it goes wrong. A simple one to remember, the biggest crashes happen on the least memorable bends…..

As my front wheel slid ever so slightly, going really quite fast, I thought I’d just ride through the tape. When I hit the marker post the slide turned into a catastrophic, veering loss of control and towards a silver birch......I headed towards doom at what felt like a hundred miles an hour, probably about twenty. Fast enough.  As the 9” wide trunk headed straight for my front wheel, I knew it was going to hurt/cost lots of money….or perhaps end all my pain. Forever. My mouth made that involuntary noise a split second before I hit.

I stopped very suddenly. Much more effective than disc brakes and not subject to recalls.

I knew it had been a good one because two guys had not adopted the usual Yorkshire protocol of uncontrollable laughing and had gazelled the course to see to me. My shoulder and collarbone took the hit. I couldn’t straighten my middle three fingers on my left hand and I had a dead leg. I could taste blood in my mouth.

I had a bike race to ride, so back on the bike and away and see what happens as four went past. If I’d done my collarbone I’d soon work it out, I’d rather make the decision to abandon on the move than watch the race go by in pain only to decide to keep going. The next lap was agony.

Slowly the pain subsided and I found my composure returned as I got mopped up by a group of two. At the bell, I was comparatively happy and my thoughts turned to getting those last two places. No fancy plans or tactics this week, just a simple case of making sure I was technically tidy on the horrible off camber section with right handed remount before the last grassy bank, to carry as much speed as I could and dismount decisively for the run.

My plan worked perfectly as I came out the bank first and buried myself for the last 200m to the line.

I finished 26^th. Physically wrecked and bloodied. At the time of writing, I am walking with a limp, I cannot lift my left arm above shoulder height and looking at the excellent bruise on my collarbone, I’ve come very close to a premature season end and liquidised Christmas lunch. Nothing that forty mins on the rollers wont fix….

     

Probably my best race of the year on an ace course.

More crucially the bike’s OK.

Steve

Ted @ Round 5 Bradford National Trophy Cyclo-Cross

Ted Sarmiento gets all cinematic as he reflects on a weekend at Bradford and the fifth round of the National Trophy Cyclo-Cross series. He began by doing a turn as part of the event’s set-up crew and you could argue from that point onwards, the rest was pretty much self-inflicted!

Picture my favourite scene from the 1994 movie ‘Cross Fiction’. You know the one with John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson, directed by Quentin De Vlaeminck, that goes a bit like this:

Vincent: But you know what the funniest thing about ‘Cross is?

Jules: What?

Vincent: It's the little differences. I mean they got the same stuff over there that they got here, but it's just...just there it's a little different.

Jules: Examples?

Edward: Bradford’s Peel Park?

OK, so here’s where the plot differs slightly. But you get what I mean don’t you? No? Well, Peel Park is one of the best Cyclo-Cross courses there is (OK so I live in Yorkshire Cyclo-Cross country, guilty). It’s full of hazards and difficulties that are sometimes present in other courses, but rarely in such abundance, and rarely so easy to watch for the spectators - ‘the little differences’.

I heard a few riders talking about it being muddy. Well come back another year and then it’ll maybe be muddy! This time it was just a bit mushy in places: OK, sometimes ankle deep mushy, but that’s why we love it!

Sarah Murray ploughing through the mush [photo courtesy of Emma Osenton]

At Peel Park it’s the combination of all these little differences, and some sodding great big ones, that differentiate one rider from another. And by differentiate, I’m talking time gaps.  Anyway, to cut to the point, one way or another, I’m getting round to admitting to the fact that my unbeaten run (of not getting lapped by the leader) came to a sticky end in what was, nonetheless, probably my best National Trophy ride of the season.

My race began at 8:00 am on Saturday (oh yes), thanks to my volunteering to help set out the course. Work finished around 1:00pm at which point I quietly removed my bike from the back of the car before heading off for a few laps of this terrific circuit to get the feel of it. How did it look? Well, more or less the same as last year’s National’s, only this time with a coating of green stuff all over the park. Grass? Yes, and lots of it.

The exact layout of the Peel Park course is a bit of a mystery to me. There’s a flyover built right into the park and no matter how many times I lapped, just like last time out, I was still confused as to how it all linked together. But, like a tangled multi-stranded De Vlaeminck movie plot, it all falls into place in the end. Of course, as a rider, it doesn’t matter, just so long as you know where to ride, where to run and where to jump off. Oh yeah, and where to ascend an absurdly steep bank.

Funny thing though, this grass stuff provides plenty or traction and the course was 98% ride-able in practice. Another funny thing about grass is that by the time 90 odd Vets and others got to work ‘practicing’ on Sunday morning, they’d turned it into sticky mush. No more traction, yeee haaa!

So onto the start grid and for once I feel locked, loaded and ready to go. On the whistle I’m off like a jackrabbit and onto team-mate Steve’s wheel by the end of the tarmac. That’s a good spot to be for me to be: I know it won’t last, but why not make it hard for ‘em behind me? After a lap or two Simon Pateman (Saddleworth Clarion) comes past on the tarmac uphill and I latch onto his wheel and hold it for a bit. 

Unfortunately for both of us the rider we catch overcooks a nothing corner and brings us both down and I land hard on his razor sharp disc brake (are you watching UCI?). But I‘m lucky: Simon’s back wheel is the loser this time, and I get up and get going. Fortunately he has a spare bike and is soon back racing, nudging past me again in the closing stages.

'I've had enough of this, I'm off to the Sven line' (photo by Trevor Schofield)

I get the bell at the same time as our race leader, but having given serious beans to this race I only know this is a “thing”. By that, I mean I can no longer compute as to whether it is a “good thing” or “bad thing”. No Matter, as I haven’t been signalled to stop racing, I go on to my ‘laaste ronde’.

Any beans left? Just a few! Enough for me to cling onto Charles Warren’s wheel for a windy top section as he does damage to his over 50’s rivals. Final ascent up the bank and I find I’m still running, well at least jogging. Not like last year where I was one pace behind a plod. No last minute overtakes then and suddenly I’m over the line safe and sound. Finished. Done for. Kaput. Crevé. Hecho polvo. Brilliant!

Bradford really is Cyclo-Cross racing at its best. And as a volunteer on Saturday I could see just how many dedicated ‘others’ were involved in making this day of racing happen. They all know who they are - mainly from Pedalsport and YCCA - however a stand-out mention must go to race organiser Fred ‘CX’ Rothwell, who headed up this particular show. Many thanks to you all.

By the same token, our small cxmagazine.com Racing Team owes another debt of gratitude to a less numerous but equally dedicated army of volunteers who operated jet washes and bike changes like a precision instrument in a very un-precise, sloppy, messy environment. Astounding. And then there’s the course-side supporters too. Thanks for all the shouts.

Would you work here?

Meanwhile, as images of Bradford still play across my mind like a recently viewed movie – to cling onto my cinema theme for a little longer - your thoughts, like mine, are probably turning towards the festive period. If you have a ‘cross fan in your house (and you probably wouldn’t be here if you didn’t) we have a special Christmas discount code offer for UK subscriptions to the print or digital version Cyclocross Magazine. Drop us a message and we’ll send you the code.

Race result 48 of 54

Today’s race blog was brought to you by the letters C and X and the numbers 48 and 54. Plus Cyclocross Magazine, Tidds and Pedalsport. Happy Christmas and a very happy Ripley Castle New Years’ Day.

North of England Cyclocross championships- Ed's report

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!

Steve: North of England Champs

 Had it not been for a friend of the team coming out to take some team pictures yesterday, I’d have most likely stayed in bed. As I drove across the moors towards York, there was barely enough light to see, despite it being 10.30am. I felt low, my thoughts were consumed by concocting reasons not to start.

Upon arrival, I met Paul Lehan, a great friend, strong as hell and all round nice guy. He immediately picked up on my frame of mind “come on mate, you’ve got to race – we’ll have a real ding-dong” For all the right reasons, he’d intuitively backed me into a corner. I couldn’t possibly slip away then.

So with a heavy heart I pulled my kit on, whacked my baseline pressures in headed for the technical part of the course to have a look at the drop off and off camber section. Ted who ran the section with 100% commitment in practice. His mind was made up. It was a run, doubt nagged my mind.

I dawdled back down to the start for gridding. A third row start with an eighty strong field. Bang we were off….with grumpy at least having the presence of mind to ram it into a bigger gear after a couple of revs.

Eighty blokes sprinting like hell turning dead left into a three metre wide course, rubbing shoulders, whilst my front wheel tread thrummed on the back wheel of the guy in front suddenly brought a smile to my face. Some one flicked the switch....Game on. 

Time to race…….

I don’t know if it’s a case of the big field, the course or being a champs but the first four laps were some of the most cut and thrust racing I’ve done. In a group, screw up, go out the back, regain group, get carried forward by better riders coming through, and repeat. Strangely, I saw lots of attacking with really concerted efforts being made to split groups up. I’d imagine that in the third of the race, my position will have yo-yoed by as much as ten places. Running the off camber was one thing in warming up, committing when already at near maximal intensity was quite another, I genuinely thought I might die I had to go so hard to regain my position first lap.

I settled in and started to find my consistent lines. Riding the horrible, uphill, off camber suddenly happened and went pretty well, sometimes I could hold the high line, sometimes not but I was getting up it and crucially entering the subsequent run much more composed. Nicely placed in a group of five, probably the weakest technically, probably there or thereabouts physically.  

With two laps to go, the task was now to make the best of where I was in the race…to ‘win’ my group. As we passed the pits the course went 100m straight along a grassy perimeter track, into a ninety left, ran straight for another 100m before dropping onto the 400m exposed tarmac finishing section with a cross/headwind. It was clear that everyone was riding the grassy track to the left….the right looked alright, perhaps a little slower. I had to get to the pits on the bell lap still in the group. We took the bell, I unashamedly wheelsucked to conserve energy.

Towards the off camber tricky section I came through to the front, If my technical skills were going to let me down riding across the slope, I was sure as hell going to make sure I wasn’t going to be the only one to loose by quietly slipping out of contact from the back. If I was going to slide, I wanted to be in a position to cause chaos behind. A rare moment of clarity.

Try as I might, I slid down the slope, safe in the knowledge that my difficulties would be thankfully causing chaos behind. Out of the technical mire and heading down to the pits fast, Jough shouted “come on fella, last two minutes”. Past the pits, I was sat where I wanted to be….. at the back.

Through the pits, along the first 100m track and then through the ninety left. I could almost sense the lack of urgency from my peers holding back for the tarmac finish. For the tall guy with no sprint….shit or bust and don’t look back.

I hit the untried right hand line hard out the seat and punched through the front of the group. After a near miss with a guy who’d just finished and had ridden across the course recovering, I was out onto the tarmac and away. A quick glance back and head down, hugging the right hand gutter making them work for it into the wind. I had two in hot pursuit and two had been spat out. As we rounded the bend into the finishing straight glare of the commissaries I faded. 

The outcome was 50% successful. I didn’t quite hang on. I’d ditched two, and got narrowly outsprinted by two. Not perfect but OK. All good experience. Fantastic fun.

I finished 22^nd from 87 starters, about 3mins down. I’d had a massive race long ding-dong and felt great.

Perhaps I’m sad, but I know I love cross, I’ll settle for that!

Steve

  

Ted's North of England Championships | York | Sunday 08 Dec 2013

You know how the old saying goes..."Cyclo-Cross is a bit like life". And just like life you can make you own luck by being fit and technically well prepared but just like life, bad luck can strike at any time. Today I had another small spot of bad luck a la Kevin Pauwels, who I regard as the unluckiest guy in CX. Or is he? 

Back to the the racing. Today it was the North of England's Championships, a biggie by anyone's standards. Big enough to attract Sr. Oldham (Hope Factory Racing) himself. Nuff said. So it was with 80 odd other Vet 40s we set off for a half lap of York Sport's excellent new road race circuit and then onto the rough stuff. Another cracking start, I bridged the initial gap to the leaders and then hung in until the first turn off road. After that some of the 'I didn't get such a good start' crew started coming past and I had just started settling down when I get an almighty bellow from behind "CMON TED LETS GET GOING" from club mate Paul. He got going all right. I tried to hang on his wheel and gained a further place. 

As the race began to take shape I found myself in a cracking dogfight with another rider who seemed to have supporters all over the track. I could tell 'cos as he clung to my wheel everyone it seemed was giving him a cheer. Anyway we hit the tarmac headwind and he sticks solid to my wheel. I swerve violently to the other side of the track to invite him to come past (I've seen KP do this, so it must be OK) and he stubbornly refuses. Then he pulls the dirtiest, nastiest trick I've ever seen in 'cross. Now, I don't want to get anyone in any bother with the officials or even, god forbid, disqualified so for the sake of this blog lets just call him Phil Ingham (Pedalsport, for example).

What he did was, he was 'nice' to me. Yeah, nice. He did it by telling me he'd entered our new club 'cross Ripley Castle CX, then he told me he enjoyed reading these blogs. It was a clever and subtle trick, and one I fell for hook, line and sinker.  I was momentarily distracted and messed up the sharp left hander off the tarmac. But as I gave chase I couldn't help but admire the sheer genius of it as I set to catching this clever hare.

Photo courtesy of Neil Hendry

It took almost a full lap to latch onto and his wheel and then pass him through the mud. I knew though that he was riding the whole circuit, including the gnarly lump which needed top skills and guts. I ran the entire section, no time lost but I had to keep up a decent pace. Back onto the descent and that was when when Lady Luck played another part. Changing up onto the big ring my chain did a Pauwels and wrapped itself round my BB. By the time I'd pulled it out and changed bikes soon after, I'd dropped 3 or 4 places. Well I suppose it wasn't a rainbow jersey I was saying goodbye to, not like poor old Kevin.

Another very enjoyable day of racing, and as ever I'm super grateful for all the shouts and support. What was also really special was it was the first time all four of cxmagazine.com Racing Team were at the same event. So a final and special thanks to Andy Preston and Bridget Oliver for capturing this moment on film.

Race result 59 of 84.

Sarah: MK National Trophy

My third foray in to the world of National Trophy 'cross racing was in many ways similar to my previous two outings; race preparations began a good twenty four hours before the racing itself and the car, once more, managed to accommodate an impossible amount of kit! Who needs to use their interior mirror after all?!

I set off with Chris, a friend from my course whose knowledge of bikes would be an absolute life safer come race day. We made the journey South where I was lucky enough to stay with Chris's family in their quintessentially Southern cottage. The house itself was beautiful and I was made to feel incredibly at home - it was the perfect pre-race base.

Race day didn't get off to the best of starts, after a minor issue with Chris's land rover; it didn't start! When you're in a rush, the million and one roundabouts which constitute Milton Keynes are not ideal. Nevertheless we arrived at the 'Bowl' with what seemed like enough time to run through all of the neccesary pre-race procedures...

Photo by Richard Bennett 

This day was particularly exciting because Tony at the Bicycle Repair Man had arranged for Jamie Brady to deliver my new Ridley X-Fire to Milton Keynes. It was lovely to get my hands on it but I couldn't enjoy the moment quite as much as I would have wanted to. With less than an hour til the whistle the gears needed indexing to work with my tubs. Obviously I am useless with bikes and I wouldn't have been able to remedy the gears in time for the Bradford National Trophy in two weeks time never mind the Milton Keynes race! Thankfully though, Chris and Jamie are magicians when it comes to this sort of thing and before long they had my bike primed, fitted and ready to go. For that I am really, really grateful!

With so much to do, I didn't have time to do a warm up or recce the course. Two big no-no's when it comes to racing cross. My lack of course knowledge and warm up meant that it probably wasn't the best of ideas to move up to a space on the front row of the grid. But I did it anyways. And I didn't stop then, this was undoubtedly my best start in the National Trophy so far - I heard the whistle, clipped in straight away and powered the new Ridley up to third place. Again not the best of ideas. It was amazing to be mixing it up at the front but I didn't have a clue as to what I was doing. The first corner came as a surprise but I managed to maintain my position up the hill. I wasn't quite so fortunate in the stairs however which came as an even bigger surprise, I didn't know I had to get of my bike so I basically stopped. On top of this, I didn't have the best of clip ins at the top. Such is the level of racing in the national trophy that this small technical mistake saw me drop back two or three places.

At this I eased back and rode to consolidate my position. I simply tried to cling on and ride a sensible race; despite this I did have a number of falls. I was so happy to hear the bell, it gave me a new lease of life to know that the suffering would soon be over. In fact it gave me such a boost that I'm pretty sure my last lap was my second fastest lap. I came home in 6th, one better than I managed in Durham, I was very happy with that especially considering that this was my first ride on my new bike and I hadn't warmed up. I'm looking forward to building on this result and hopefully improving on my performance come Bradford in two weeks time.  

I just want to finish by saying thank you to Chris's family for their hospitality and Chris in particular for his technical assistance on race day. I'm also indebted to Jamie and my cxmagazine teammates, Ted and Steve, who made my bikes ride-able. Without them I couldn't have raced so thank you very much! I'd also like to say thank you to Steve and Heather for putting on some top-notch post-race grub - the eggy crumpets were very welcome and went down lovely! I'll bring the sausages for Bradford!

And as ever, i'm very grateful for the all of the help i've received from everyone at cxmagazine.com - if anyone's after a discoutned digital subscription get in touch!

Ed's 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 night 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.

Steve: Nat trophy Milton Keynes

Steve: Nat Trophy, Milton Keynes Bowl.

Yesterday’s post race analysis was as follows “Going to bed post midnight and being on the road at 5am isn’t conducive to performing well.”

No shit Sherlock…..

Laying across the back seat of a Veedub with a pillow and wrapped in a childs duvet, drifting in and out of sleep as Heather drove me down the M1 was hardly a great preparation for the race. When we arrived, a mix of travel nausea, dodgy guts meant that my course recce was at best unenthusiastic. Things got interesting on my second warm up lap as I hit a bump hard. My initial thoughts were that my left arm had suddenly got longer, until I realised that my left hand lever had slid about an inch around the bar and yanked the front mech cable piano wire tight. Time for hurried mechanicals! It's my own fault - as a tight Yorkshireman, I ride with loose levers to mitigate the risk of breaking things when I go down.

Gridded on the third row, half stripped off….”Gentlemen, you’ve got three minutes to go” said the chief commissaire, a statement that was both ambiguous yet very welcome. The only detail appropriate is that the panic only set in when I realised that my race numbers were pinned through my skinsuit into my base layer and I had about four grands worth of bike laying on it’s side on the middle of the grid and I was about thirty metres away in a one square metre plastic building with a minute to go. After gazelling the barriers, I made it back, just. Not great for mental focus.....good for adrenaline.

Bang, we were off. Now here’s where I screwed up somewhat. It make a tremendous difference if a cross rider knows where the course goes after the start instead of going on a bling voyage of discovery into the unknown. Somehow, I’d completely and utterly misunderstood the situation. So imagine how unnerving it was at around 30MPH on nobbly tyres with about 20psi in them when the race swung hard right off the tarmac onto the grass and went uphill. Big ring at the front and little sprocket at the back was not good after coming perilously close to a big crash going uphill. It literally felt like fifty guys came past me at the time.

So down to business, hold the line and do my usual wait for some of those in front to go bang half way round the first lap thing. It sort of worked, but not so dramatically as usual…perhaps everyone’s getting fitter, perhaps I’m not, or perhaps it was just the course. 

On hitting the same bump that caused problems in warm up, but going twice as fast, the bike let out an almighty and sickening bang. Lord knows what it was (I’ve not found the crack yet) yet I got away with it. At mid race point, things were well established with me sat in a group of five, two Cotswold Veldrijen and two Derwentside guys. A crash behind and one guy who was on a mission made that the three of us at the bell. One Cotswold, one Derwentside, and me. The Cotswold guy was yo-yoing off the back. 

Now credit, where credit’s due. The Derwentside guy, John, clawed his way back up to me after I gapped him by about twenty metres and half a lap to go in and amongst dodging lapped riders. He immediately attacked and returned the favour. I had nothing to respond with. It was then that lady luck smiled at me, as his front wheel washed out and he hit the deck. Just as I rode past him he was back on his bike pedaling at 130rpm whilst the penny dropped that he'd unshipped his chain.

I did what any sportsman should do. Said and meant “bad luck” and came up out the seat and drilled it to put as much gap between us as possible. I genuinely felt sorry for John, he out rode me and deserved that place, but as long as no one gets hurt or smashes a bike to bits, racing’s racing and staying on is all part of cyclocross. It was my turn at Abergavenny.

A ‘brisk’ last half lap brought me into the 250m long tarmac finishing straight with my back tub squirming through the last right turn about thirty metres behind a pair of riders. A sprint with one hundred percent commitment so very nearly caught them unawares but stealing two places wasn’t to be. Close but no cigar....Couldn’t be an opportunist twice in one race….     

Past the line, I had a nice chat with John and conceded moral defeat….it’s kind of funny, but the guys who race at national level seem to be pretty objective when things go wrong. I guess it’s simple….take lots of setbacks and you get used to coping with them. At Durham, I chatted with one of the 'best of the best' who'd been rammed from behind, back wheel had dropped out and then his pedal fell out. Calm, cool and objective......he probably went home and took pot shots at passers by with an air rifle to relax!

At the time, I was convinced that I’d failed to score points and had placed well outside the top thirty. I finished 25^th about 4mins down on the winner, half a lap or so down and achieved a few more points. I was definitely off colour for the race and made an elementary mistake over the start layout but I'm really happy with how it's going and enjoying the competition immensely.

My cxmagazine.com team mate, Ted suffered a broken chain and consequently DNF’d….no drama, just a hint of pragmatic grumpiness whilst we enjoyed a post race brew and cooked breakfast with our friends as we washed the bikes.  

I don’t do cycling frustration, I’m not into storming around the house muttering about not being quite where I want to be. I am, however increasingly coming to the conclusion that I am at the point where I should address some of that basic Maslow’s stuff. That is sleep, food and more sleep....oh yeah and start sussing out the starts better.

Travelodge’s next year…..