Oli Pepper

November 21, 2011

All pain, no gain

It's been a while since I've updated my riding blog. As is often the case, too much work, not enough time. It's been fun though, with the new Morvélo range being delivery and sent out to stores and also working on a quick promo video that has got people talking. Still I was directing that one and not riding which is good and bad. I wouldn't liked to have handles those steps at the speed Gareth and Phil were!

Still a few weeks before that I'd done an MTB race which, despite the glorious autumnal day, I suffered major mechanicals, which, I hold my hands up too, are down t my own ineptitude. So it was that I was very much looking forward to the cross race on yet another dry day in London. This time there were over 180 of us! So, with my usual midfield start I tried my best to pick my way through. Gareth (the guy in pink in the video) had made his usual fast start and wasn't to be seen again. Fellow KMP rider Phil, the guy in Yellow in the video, stuck with me.

As you can see from the picture, even at this early point I was blowing out my arse. The pace was furious and due to the dry conditions, unrelenting. I felt I was full gas ALL the time. Even in cross races I normally find some time to recover. Phil early one became tired of hanging behind his Directuer Sportif so sped past. The gap he gained in such a short time was a double edged sword. Great to see his going so well again. Painful for me to try and reel him back.

Needless to say I didn't. Check the face.

Hurting. A lot! I nestled into a small group of four and spent the next 45 mins dangling off the back and somehow just working my way back. I refused to be dropped despite the searing pain all over. It really was like an off road crit with pacelines developing on the straights. Fun. In hindsight.

Still I stuck it out and tried to make a few moves towards the end just pipping a Sigma rider over the line for 39th. 39th! Only last year I could do top 15 and I'm sure I haven't got that slow, that quick. Where are all these fast riders coming from? Time for me to take a word of advice from the Morvelo Arm Warmers - T.T.F.U (Toughen The Fuck Up)

Photos courtesy of Cross Crazy

Filed under // Cyclocross

Posted by Oli Pepper

October 14, 2011

Dipping a toe

For a long time I've been hesitant about entering a sportive. Not due to the routes or distance necessarily, although I rarely ride over 2 hours these days. Instead my bike riding is condensed shot of speed and fun about three times a week. So last Sundays Brighton to Brighton sportive would be something quite different. No tearing away from the gun. No hammering up hills to break away. No risky downhill action to try and catch back on. To be honest I've always struggled to see the appeal but I thought I should try at least one before I made any rash decisions.

Lea had to bail before the ride so my early plan of us sharing the pace for 100 miles instead became a one man time trail for 100 miles. And if there is one thing I'm shit at, it's time trailing. Still it was dry, autumn was in full swing showing it's glorious colours and the route was a familiar cracker. All my local roads so I plucked a random speed out of my head a decided to see if I could stick with it. 20mph average was the benchmark. With the absence of riding buddies I needed some objective. I hate plodding round so this became the stick.

All was going nicely for the first 40 miles and I was just shy at 19.9 mph. The sportive thing is all new to me so pitching up at the first feed station as I was nicely surprised to see a whole raft of pastries and sweets. Mindful that I didn't want to treat the village hall feed stop like a kids party, I made tracks. Okay, just one more sausage roll then . . .

My iPod gave me much needed company and motivation as my average started to drop and the legs started to feel leaden. I found myself struggling more on the flat due to the gusty wind than I did on the stiff climbs like Kidds Hill surprisingly. Seeing the horizon up above and bouncing up and down out the saddle, I could find a decent rhythm and stick with it. Unlike my riding on the flat, which left me constantly trying to find just the right gear. Up, down, up down much like the route itself. Talking of which there were some superb country lanes and some great vistas high up in Ashdown Forest. Enough to keep you engaged.

The second feed was just after halfway so mentally I was almost home. Average was now down to 19mph so I took a whole load more of the sweets and pastries to fuel the fire. It did the trick for a time but before long the zip was definitely going out my legs and even my arms started to ache, not helped by the 20% climb of Cobb Lane. At this point I felt quite numb. Not from a trouble with circulation. Just the non stop pedaling into the wind. Mentally I was beginning to drop off as was my average speed.

At the third feed stop I just filled up my bottle and motored on. Just wanted to get back now. Only 30 miles left, although this is the length of a normal ride for me. Seeing the South Downs appear always feels me with added motivation. I can see home already. Such was the focus just to get back and eat a shed load of oven food, I missed the 4th feed in Ditchling and climbed my way up the Beacon. Not too shabby although I'm used to hitting this climb with far fresher legs. High speed drop back into Brighton then up Bear Road for the final sting in the tail. Which it did. The legs were on the verge of cramp at this point so rolling over the line on the seafront I felt wasted. Average speed was 18mph. Got to say I was a little disappointed but knew I could not have gone faster and it's the first time I've ridden 100 miles with no chance of shelter from another rider. It makes a hell of a difference.

All in all it was a strange experience. On the one hand great to do something new. Get a good ride in and a superb route and organisation. You could argue, as many people do, that you could ride this route any time of the year, but just having a timing chip around my neck and some clear course marking meant I could focus on the ride rather than the route. On the other hand I missed the buzz of going full gas for an hour or so. The beer after didn't half nurse those aching legs though. Maybe I'll give it another go...

Photo courtesy of Sportive Photo

Filed under // Road

Posted by Oli Pepper

October 4, 2011

Hot Laps!

First cross race of the new season last Sunday and one I'd been looking forward to for a while. I'd been riding the cross bike on the long off road commute all summer and enjoying the fast rolling "summer only" Kenda Small Block Eights. I'd say I was 100% certain these would have to come off for the first race of the season, especially as it's in October. How wrong I could be.

Setting off from a warm Brighton, I headed north for Herne Hill Velodrome, traveling through the surprisingly deserted streets of South London. The air conditioning in the car had lulled me into a false sense of security and it was only when I opened the car door once I arrived, that it hit. It really did feel like stepping into an oven and a double check of the temp gauge in the car said 28.5 degrees! Being affectionately known as 'Sweat Boy' to some of my friends, this didn't bode well. I can wear shorts and a tee in winter and still feel over dressed!

I hooked up with Phil from the KMP, his good lady Katie, Gareth from Singular and James (who kindly took the photos and helped me not die - more later). The usual chat and faff and we were on the startline. Already I was sweating and I hadn't even turned a pedal. This time I thought I'd get to the front and not leave myself such a hug amount of work like I do most cross races. Despite my best intentions though, the top 75 from the last couple of races were gridded, so it was by default I was near the back once again. Not to worry, the bike (the Italian made CSix) has been pinging all summer and I felt confident, if not a little hot.

First lap and Gareth come flying past, I try and hold his wheel but cant handle the pace. It takes me about 20 minutes to get used to the all out assault of racing so I settle in and slowly pick off people. By the end of the first lap my mouth is dryer than Ghandi's flipflop and with no bottle I wonder how long I'd be able to keep going. Passing James I wheeze out the words "Bottle..." and luckily he gets my drift. Due to the exceptionally hot weather the organisers have thankfully allowed hand-ups. Still I'll have to wait for another lap until I get some relief. I tried instead to focus back on the racing and had found myself slowly catching Phil and in with a bunch of two or three riders.

James's life saving hand-ups gave me some respite for a moment but it was always short lived. I could have drunk a gallon and still be thirsty that day. About 2/3rds of the way through I was starting to fade. Hot, vague and tired I missed a couple of hand-ups which added to the problem. I was loosing time on the flat grass sections but always gaining on the singletrack and dismounts, so the elastic nature of the close racing kept me going.

The bell rang out that the pain was almost over and I was within sniffing distance of Phil. Try as I might I just couldn't give it the extra beans to get close and a mistimed sprint at the end meant I actually lost a few place rather than gained. Still, despite the heat, the resulting vagueness in my mind, it was a welcome if not slightly unusual start to the cross season. I could have almost prayed for mud and rain. Chances are by the next one at the end of October I won't be running those Small Blocks . . .

(download)

Filed under // Cyclocross

Posted by Oli Pepper

October 3, 2011

Just messin'

Can't believe it's been a year.

Sun is out and concrete is ready

Takes some time to get used to the small wheels once more.

Re-acquainting myself with balance points and using arms for something other than just steering.

Remembering the time when all I did is break-in and ride Southsea for the whole summer.

Wonder where that brave(er) youngster went?

As the session draws to an end it finally clicks.

Moves remembered.

Moves pulled cleanly - finally.

After all, it's as simple as riding a bike.

(download)

Filed under // BMX

Posted by Morvélo

October 3, 2011

Anatomy of a devil.

After Friday's long overdue trip to the skatepark, my whole upper body has been feeling pretty stiff. I don't ride BMX as often as I would like, so 3hrs of hopping, jumping and manualling around a concrete park was a big wake up for those chicken arms of mine. Still I finally managed a pedal stall on the mini ramp so I left happy.
And the ying to the BMX's Yang, is the road bike and now some pretty sore legs. Now the whole body aches. In a good way of course - learning new skills with the BMX. Testing the legs with the road bike. A complete work out but the legs may take a while longer to recover.

A snapped spoke just as I set off today almost ruined the party but thankfully the resilience of the carbon Reynolds managed to hold together for the ride. Still alarming to look down as see the wheel sway side to side like it was doing the Lambarda. I managed to put the fears of an imminent imploding front wheel and loss of teeth to the back of my mind as I set off on the first climb.

Some might say I chickened out of the 25% wall of Porlock Hill and you'd be right. Kicking off a ride with a ramp like that puts me in the red for most of the day. So I chose the gorgeous gradient and resurfaced smoothness of the Toll Road. A far nicer climb for several reasons. One, it's very quiet and snakes through an autumnal feast of ancient woodland before finishing on the stark beauty of Exmoor. Two, it's just the right gradient for tapping out the kind a cadence that would make Armstrong proud. Which generally means by the top you've accidentally given it full gas and you're deeper in the red than if you climbed Porlock Hill.

I minced my way through the downhills finding occasional reassurance in that squeezing the front brake straightened the wheel momentarily. Lots of gently undulating roads gave way to infrequent assaults of small sharp 25% pitches. With more ups and downs than a yo-yo, riding in this part of the country is split between freewheeling and a slow mashing of the pedals with not much inbetween. It could be just the routes I choose however.

And then the devil looms large. Dunkery Beacon. Or as I like to call it, Two Miles of Swearing. It's not rated a 10 out of 10 for difficulty for nothing. In my mind it's the ultimate test.

Starting in comforting and picturesque woodland any ideas of admiring the scenery are immediately banished with the first 'chevron' (of which there are 5 from bottom to top). This 17% pitch adds some spice in the form of a cattle grid which, if wet like today, you'll need to sprint over. After the smallest smidge of respite it's into chevron number 2 and another 17%. This time you can spot the edge of the woodland on the crest and the resulting slight downhill when you exit the lower slopes is a cruel twist.

You'd (and I have on many times) be mistaken for thinking that the hardest part is over. Its been incessantly steep since the bottom and now all you can see is a gentle road upwards. As the cadence drops you round a corner straight into a steep S bend. If they have stuck an S bend here then surely this is the hardest part, yes?

No.

As the ever present headwind starts to bite and the "comfort" of the woodland is left behind, chevron 3 on the S bend and chevron 4 not long after have you looking over your shoulder for the broom wagon. It you weren't on your bike, you'd be on your knees. It is often that I forget at this point about chevron number 5. The nature of the surrounding terrain leaves you to believe that the summit is close. Only when you ride over the crest of chevron 4 do you see the snake of the road rearing up. Menacing, exposed and unrelenting.

With it's non-committal left and rights the road barely ventures off straight. Everything about it taunts you. Begging you to have a go whilst laughing at your weakness. The headwind and gradient increase in unison. The resistance in the gear lever means there is nowhere else to hide. This is the beauty. You have to face the challenge head on. You've traded blows and the hills seems to be bracing itself for the knockout. The legs and resolve are weakened. With each revolution your legs cry out for an escape.

Deny them.

Deny them and you'll be rewarded with the rush of staring defeat straight on and calling its bluff.

Filed under // Road

Posted by Oli Pepper

August 15, 2011

Bringing a knife to a gunfight

I'm addicted. The partial answer to why I chose to ride the cyclocross bike around the North Downs on Sunday (after watching the Olympic Road Race test event for motivation). "Are you riding your cross bike because you have no other bikes that work?" asked Gareth from Singular. He knows me too well, so that was the second reason. The expression 'Manana' certainly applies to my cycle maintenance so with no MTB it had to be the cross bike.

Whatever the reason though, there I was after 2 hours of dry, dusty, rooty, fast trails still managing not to get dropped - too badly. Riding with 3 others, all of which were on MTBs, meant I was the odd one out and the rider occasionally screaming at the back. But man, those trails are FUN on a cross bike! Non more so than when unintentionally airborne off a rocky drop-off or diving down a large bombhole, hands firmly locked into the drops. Like a Spitfire pilot at the Battle of Britain, diving, swooping, banking and dodging the enemy. Roots and rocks in this case.

What made the smile so big, apart from the sun, good company and fine trails was the carbon Kinesis CSix. It's one hell of a ride! I've got a size 54, which on paper is too small for me, but actually gives the bike an amazingly sprightly ride and one where the bike can be flicked around at ease. Bunnyhops and quick changes of direction are instinctive and climbing is rocket fast. Literally NO flex. From anywhere. Harsh, you'd think but it's not. No loss of feeling in the fingers and only a hint of shoulder ache this morning after 2 hours of bone shaking action. On a Kinesis theme the fork - the RC09 - can get you into a lot of trouble, in a good way. Zero judder (a saviour at last!) and awesome tracking means you hit sections far faster than you were hoping/fearing. My other new love is the SoftTouch Fi'zi:k bartape. I normally can't ride anywhere without gloves, certainly in summer being a sweatboy, but this tape is excellent. No slip, absorbs and wicks away sweat and give a great feel to the bars. Like a gentle caress. It's one of those rides where it all seems to come together, despite being on "the wrong bike".

All in all a truly eye-opening afternoons riding and a crash course in bike handling skills. It felt fast and bumpy as hell but as another friend and cyclocrosser Shaggy Ross once said "On a cross bike it's a hot line if you get through with any punctures." I'm a cyclocross god then! Woohoo!

Although checking the bike this morning both tyres are now flat. Back to the drawing board . . .

Filed under // Cyclocross

Posted by Oli Pepper

August 4, 2011

Last of the summer

We're almost at the end of another Track season at Preston Park. Once again I promised myself I'd go to more but clashes with road and MTB races meant that I've only been 4 times this year. But what good times they were. I get such a buzz/slightly sick feeling from these. Great variety of races from 1 lap sprints to the ever painful Devil. Yesterday evening was to be my last trip to the Track and I was keen to see how my new "Long Way Round" commutes were doing in absence of any "proper" riding time. Quite well it seems and I think the fixed gear hillclimb I do home every day seems to give me power for the sprints - so I came away with a handful of second places and one first (in a qualifying heat). It would have been two firsts but my sprint for the line was a touch ragged and I strayed off line, so I was rightly relegated back to 2nd.

The fact that the person beating me in all these races was only 15 years old is good to see. Preston Park Track League has a thriving and ever increasing youth scene with many of these going up to the senior races and showing us what youthful legs and lungs can do. Put us in the hurt locker! I feel that I've learnt a lot over the years in terms of racing which makes up for, in some respects, the absence of any proper training. I don't use a heart rate monitor or any training guides. I don't watch what I eat, like good food and I like a drink. On paper I'm not a racer at all. What I do like, what I love, is the speed of racing and making my legs hurt and holding it there. For a long time when I was a "leisure" cyclist I'd look to avoid this confrontation with pain at all costs. It was all about the downhill then, all about bike handling and skills.

Now I'm older and arguably wiser, I still love the downhills but now I love the ups too. Once I realized that the pain from racing or climbing isn't bad but in fact gives you the most amazing buzz, I was hooked. I just love to try and go fast. Up, down, wherever and on whatever - MTB, Track, Road, Cyclocross, BMX. Speed is the key. Fitness naturally comes with this desire to go faster but without training you hit a buffer. The only way around this, and one I feel has finally clicked this year, is to race and ride smarter. I visualise that on each ride I have a box of matches. If I'm feeling good I have more matches. What these relate too are big efforts. Either climb or sprint and these days I only have about 1 match! Hide in the bunch, follow wheels, see what's going on and time those efforts.

Roll on cyclocross season!

Filed under // Events Track

Posted by Oli Pepper

August 4, 2011

Last of the season

We're almost at the end of another Track season at Preston Park. Once again I promised myself I'd go to more but clashes with road and MTB races meant that I've only been 4 times this year. But what good times they were. I get such a buzz/slightly sick feeling from these. Great variety of races from 1 lap sprints to the ever painful Devil. Yesterday evening was to be my last trip to the Track and I was keen to see how my new "Long Way Round" commutes were doing in absence of any "proper" riding time. Quite well it seems and I think the fixed gear hillclimb I do home every day seems to give me power for the sprints - so I came away with a handful of second places and one first (in a qualifying heat). It would have been two firsts but my sprint for the line was a touch ragged and I strayed off line, so I was rightly relegated back to 2nd.

The fact that the person beating me in all these races was only 15 years old is good to see. Preston Park Track League has a thriving and ever increasing youth scene with many of these going up to the senior races and showing us what youthful legs and lungs can do. Put us in the hurt locker! I feel that I've learnt a lot over the years in terms of racing which makes up for, in some respects, the absence of any proper training. I don't use a heart rate monitor or any training guides. I don't watch what I eat, like good food and I like a drink. On paper I'm not a racer at all. What I do like, what I love, is the speed of racing and making my legs hurt and holding it there. For a long time when I was a "leisure" cyclist I'd look to avoid this confrontation with pain at all costs. It was all about the downhill then, all about bike handling and skills.

Now I'm older and arguably wiser, I still love the downhills but now I love the ups too. Once I realized that the pain from racing or climbing isn't bad but in fact gives you the most amazing buzz, I was hooked. I just love to try and go fast. Up, down, wherever and on whatever - MTB, Track, Road, Cyclocross, BMX. Speed is the key. Fitness naturally comes with this desire to go faster but without training you hit a buffer. The only way around this, and one I feel has finally clicked this year, is to race and ride smarter. I visualise that on each ride I have a box of matches. If I'm feeling good I have more matches. What these relate too are big efforts. Either climb or sprint and these days I only have about 1 match! Hide in the bunch, follow wheels, see what's going on and time those efforts.

Roll on cyclocross season!

Filed under // Events Track

Posted by Oli Pepper

August 1, 2011

Out of Season

It seemed very strange fitting the crossbike with summer tyres and heading out in the glorious sun. Normally it's mud tyres all the way and it only gets dragged out the shed when it's hammering with rain. I felt like I'd done too much road recently and not enough trails, especially in light of all this dry weather. MTB was without forks so the CX bike was the only choice. And a good one too as it transpired.

TTFU - Toughen The Fuck Up - which is what I needed to do it seemed. Climbing up onto the Downs, the shelter given by the full summer foliage of the tress made the trail a sauna, with the rocks, roots and dry hoof marks rattling my arms. Definitely too used to smooth tarmac and suspension. The cool breeze at the top was a welcome relief as I set about doing a slightly re-jigged version of "The Three Peaks".

Just because it was sunny and dry didn't make any of these three steep climbs any easier, but it was faster. It was a welcome relief not to have to deal with wheelspin on the normally wet and greasy roads and rocks. Back at the top of the Downs again after the climb up Streat Hill I did some off-piste to try and find a decent route back down to the base of the downs. I was successful but only after a lot of portaging and rummaging around the undergrowth. Still nice day for it.

Rather than straight down and back up Ditchling Beacon on the road, I used the bone dry bridleway to the side and held on for grim death. Fast, loose and sketchy are the best words to describe it but still not a patch on what it would be like in the wet. Each time I climb Ditchling Beacon I'm always look out for the deteriorating "Pantini" sign just near the summit. Placed at such a point of the climb where the top is within site but the legs are really stinging, it's a fitting ode to this great and flawed climbing legend. It's a shame that it's just the specks of yellow that remain and I for one would love to see it restored to it's former glory.

Dropping down in the University it was hard not to finish of such an unusual cross ride with a trip up banks and down steps, always a good deal more terrifying when you're locked in on the drops.

Even more unusual was to see this thing called "Dust" that had settled all over the bike.

A first for sure and this ride was whet the appetite for the forth coming cross season. Only a few weeks away now. Best out the mud tyres back on . . .

Filed under // Cyclocross

Posted by Oli Pepper

July 12, 2011

I love it when a plan doesn't come together.

This year it was a time for a change. We have all had a bash at Mountain Mayhem over the years from solo to mixed teams, fast to slow and so when the deadline approached for the 2011 version, we looked for something different. The Team of 10.

Theoretically this should have been the easy option. How hard can it be to rustle up a group of you to take on a couple of laps of the course on summer's day. Well, this was the first challenge. Like herding cats. Some were a yes, then a no, then a maybe, then a yes. Come race day we had on paper a Team of Ten although sipping our drinks (courtesy of KMP sponsor and all round top guys Dark Star Brew Co.) on the Friday evening we only had three! Myself and Paddy from The KMP and Matt from Upgrade Bikes. Looks like this could be the hardest Mayhem yet. Come Saturday morning this worrying figure had reassuringly doubled with the arrival of Frazer, Lea and Julie from The KMP team.

So still four shy of our full compliment Matt took to the startline. A text from Scottish Phil said he'd be along at 9pm and was looking forward to getting stuck into the night laps. Too right. We'll make him pay for that late arrival - "Off you go Phil, see you in the morning." we said to ourselves. Matt was duly assigned the run on account of his ability to not look like he was having a controlled fit. There's a reason we're cyclists and not runners. A fine job he did too and put us near to the business end of the race. Despite us saying to ourselves this is just a fun Team of Ten, we we're finding it a challenge to click out of race mode. We love having fun, but we also find that this goes so well with trying to go fast too.

The intermittent rain had us guessing, like 2750 other people, what tyres would be best and we all secretly hoped that it would be our own laps that would dodge the showers and stay dry. None more so than Paddy. Off he went, out to make the most of Matt's good start praying for grip. I was told that during one wet race, Paddy almost came destroyed. Still, the sun's out, he'll be fine. Oh no, wait. Sorry, heavy shower. Looks like Paddy will be revisiting those demons. And so it was that we waited patiently in the pits seeing if A) Paddy was going to put in a good time and B) whether he's come back alive or not. So busy were we checking the start/finish straight we didn't notice Paddy walk up behind us. What the . . . !

All was not well, least of all Paddy's finger, which now had one uber kink in it courtesy of a dislocated finger. He's come down on one of the many slippy descents and had tried to punch the ground. Off he went to the medics to be encircled by 10 or so spectators waiting patiently for them to pop his finger back in place - "Bite hold of this, son." We didn't hear any screams and the next we knew Paddy was settled down with a nice cold beer. He'll go to some lengths I can tell you . . . .

As Paddy never crossed the finish line we were now way down in 19th spot. There was nothing to do but to now take it easy. A point reinforced by a text from Rob saying he and Jen couldn't make it after all and Phil going AWOL. It was a blessing really, and enforced us to take it easy, enjoy the event and get some riding and socialising in. If we were top 5 I could see that we'd have slipped into race mode and the Dark Star would have to wait until Sunday evening instead. As it was Frazer, Lea, Julie and myself, with the pressure off, took it in turns to have a blast round. Myself and Frazer we're having an unofficial "Fastest Lap" of our team with a healthy amount of messing around, dragging ourselves in the meantime back up to 12th.

We could pick and choose when we wanted to go out, how fast or slow we wanted to go and whether to chat to friends on the course rather than the usual zipping past with nothing more that a scream and frantic arm wave. One part of Mayhem I've always missed is getting in a timed run up the Kenda Climb. Luckily this year Frazer came in from a fast lap and no-one else wanted to go out just then, so I took my chance, five minutes to go before the8pm to 9pm timing slot was up. I confess that I was gunning for this. Years of singlespeeding and living at the top of a hill meant than this climb had my name all over it. I had to balance the sprint to get there in time with saving enough breath for less than a minute of mashing the pedals.

Seeing the blinking lights at the start filled me with excitement and anticipation. Click, click went the gears as I found the the 17t at the back to compliment the 34 at the front. The first couple of corners went so fast that I felt almost in need of dabbing the brakes and I fought desperately to go fast but not act like an idiot and cut people up. The initial surge, the 'death throws' whereby you can unleash full power without feeling pain, disappeared just as the climb steepened and straightened. Everyone who rode that climb know what a beast it is at the end almost drawing you to a standstill. I was no different and hauling the bike over the top at what felt like a snails pace, it took the full length of the fireroad after for me to pop the lungs back in. But boy, did it feel good no matter what my time was.

I carried on the lap as fast as I could, learning some new lines after my horrific first lap which had me all over the place and rummaging in gulleys like a bargain hunter at a car boot. Our handover area had now been relocated back to the pits and the Morvelo EZ-up and the changing of the laps was decidedly leisurely. Scottish Phil, true to his word, appeared and stuck in one of the night laps whilst the rest of us went back to the Dark Star. 2am and it could have been a Friday night out in Brighton. Myself, Frazer and Lea bumbling around the trade village, having a drink, having a chat and stopping for a burger. We collectively thought how we've missed this side of racing. Often we're flat out of have a focus but this was like the old days. No pressure, just fun.

Come sunrise and surprisingly most of us were up early and ready for more laps, to the point of where it was almost a struggle to fit us all in. We managed it though and our Team of 10, or make that 6, kept on rolling finishing up at the heady heights of 32nd in the Team of Ten race. One final surprise came as we were packing up, hearing over the tannoy that I had won the Kenda Hill Climb with a time of 47 seconds! I couldn't believe it and it finished off what was one of my favourite Mayhem's yet. Meeting lots of lovely people on the Morvelo stand, riding and socailising in equal measure and an unexpected result.

So for next year if you fancy some relaxing with your racing, start herding those cats.

(download)

Filed under // Events MTB

Posted by Oli Pepper

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