About a month ago, I was asked if I’d be interested in
riding the Inter Area Champs…..I’d been aware of them for a while but I’d never
really thought about doing them until about three weeks ago.
Now here’s the thing, how much a Yorkshireman am I? Did I
put myself forward to represent Yorkshire, who were only sending two teams and
run the risk of not being selected……Or did I put myself forward to ride for the
North East, who were fielding three teams and thus offer a better chance of a
ride? I did the right thing and rode for the North East……..Actually, I’m
joking. I race in the North East predominantly these days, their friendly folk
and it just seemed right seen as it was Keith Murray of Scott UK who suggested
I ride.
With partner in crime at www.cxmagazine.com
Ted nursing a hangover and confined to the pits, we arrived in plenty of time
to suss out the course, pits and what on earth a team cx race is all about. Two
goods, one bad.
Good number one was the course, fast, no running, twisty but
with a couple of lovely, long pan flat, firm headwind effected sections. Some
limited but significant Belgian bowling green and some tarmac to leather it on.
Good number two was the pits and the atmosphere around the finish area. Game
on…Bad was the realisation that the likelihood of not having to turn myself
inside-out was zero due to the scoring system. Every single place mattered to
the team.
Just two practice laps was all that was needed. There was
nothing more to be gained. Back tub nought point five squidgy, front tub
squidgy, no need for uuber squidgy. After some creative safety pinning of my
supplied XL team jersey, I achieved something that fitted my size S body, where
it touched and made my way to the start. Back row of the grid and revved for a ‘Laars
Van der Holeshot’ start…and we were away. Flat out.
Assuming no one eats tarmac, I love road starts. Moreover I
love that two second moment when everyone leaves the tarmac for the first time
at about thirty miles an hour and whilst dodging golf ball sized clumps of mud everyone’s
thinking the same thing ‘oh fuck this is dodgy, I’m going to die’.
I didn’t die, and normal service was resumed. Lined out, in quality
company and on the rivet. Going fast enough to not want to let a gap open in
about 20th place. I sat and thought to myself, ‘we’re about ninety
seconds in, hold back and wait to kick’. The guy in front of me from the
Midlands let a gap develop so kick I did….and rode a good half a lap whilst
bouncing the cardiac rev counter on the red line. I was away, with three for
company. Two North West guys and pleasingly a North East Teamate.
The North West guy came to the front and rode like a train
after I sat up…bluntly he nuked me. I sat on him for a lap or so but simply
didn’t have enough in reserve to get back up with him after the inevitable slip.
With four to go our group was established, the remaining NW guy and I sharing
the work and the north easterner a yo-yoing passenger. As we passed through the
pits I geared up for a change half a lap later thinking that I’d slickly drop
from the front to the back of our group and then attack when the NW guy made
his change. It didn’t work out. A poor remount during which I momentarily
thought someone must have nicked my pedals cost me twenty metres and I had to
chase to regain the group. Plan B…
With a lap and a half to go, my NE teammate had blown up big
time and was history. With a duo of Yorkshire lads tantalisingly forty metres
in front it was time for collaboration. A gasped pact between the NW guy and I
to burry ourselves to bridge the gap and then sort it out at the finish
‘pistols at dawn’ was formed.
We bridged the gap with about thirty meters to go, which was
(un)helpfully announced by the commentator but we were done for after the
foregoing minute flat out into the
headwind. If a million pounds had been on the line, maybe. But under the
circumstances there was nothing left for a sprint.
I finished 14th, pretty happy given a national A
status race. I was also thrilled to take a couple of notable scalps. One in
particular. I don’t mean this in any way nastily, in fact quite the
opposite…people I really rate as riders (and friends). They’ll no doubt blow me
into the weeds next week.
The NE ‘C ‘ team, I represented finished roughly half way
down the proceedings but I did my bit and was well in and amongst the A team
riders most other regions had sent.
The only cloud of the day was when precisely five seconds
after collecting a new FMB tub from Jedi Cyclesport’s van, Ted walked round the
corner carrying my spare bike with a flat back tub and said “you’ve picked up a
puncture”.
Hey it’s only money….£10.25 per BC point.
Money well spent!
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