I was there at Forest of Dean on Sunday. Saturday too.
Race number 361.
My first ever pushbike race in my life, and I'm the wrong side of 40.
Went with 4 other on 'normally aspirated' bikes.
Weather given out as crap all weekend, so when we arrived there Saturday mid morning we were pleasantly surprised the sun was out and dry tracks. Did the full 3 race sections once with everyone and slowly getting used to the bike and getting more confident at throwing it about. Did the E-MTB extra section too, and on the third section there was a fork – steep drop off to the right, easy descent to the left. Like Lemmings, we all charged off to the steep drop off, and all of us had to commit when we (rather foolishly) shot over this edge and down a very steep rocky bank with a 4’ rock at the bottom that acted like a ski jump. We all made it and all stopped to clean out underwear. Lesson number one learnt there, next time a sign says that, stop and look at / walk the obstacle before riding blindly at speed towards it…
Signed on at half three to save an early start on Sunday.
Went back home Saturday night feeling reasonably confident, but also not knowing what to expect competition / field wise. I woke up in the night to the sound of torrential rain. I set off Sunday mid morning in torrential rain. I turned around and headed home in torrential rain.
I went back to pick up my motorcross gear. Having spent too much time in hospitals getting various organs removed, I am now more conscious of injuring myself (I have one kidney left, no spleen, no stomach and half a lung missing, plus my right shoulder is built like terminator). I didn't care if I looked a twat, having been there the day before and seeing all the roots everywhere I knew it was now going to be very, very slippery....so full padding was the order of the day. I didn’t pack the neck brace or knee braces as didn’t want to look a complete fool on a pedal pushbike…
I was number 361. Transponder cable tied to fork leg. Number board on front. I was ready.
I rolled up to the start of the first stage some 30 minutes before race commencement. The E-Bikes were the first group to go, and there were 11 registered, but 10 on the day turned up to race. As the others trickled in, we were all chatting to each other and trying to suss each other out. Most of the group had raced for the last few years on their E-MTB’s, sometimes even being 2 attendees in the race category. I was now starting to feel nervous, which was made worse by the timing beeps being switched on and counting down. So long as I didn’t come last, that was my goal.
Haibike was defiantly the weapon of choice, the full 7 being the chosen model, with a Specialized thrown into the mix (I didn’t see any other brands but I’m not fully up to speed on makes / models yet)
No matter how many times I have lined up on a start grid of a Supersport race (either in this country or abroad), the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, knees like jelly and wanting to vomit inside your crash-hat never goes away. Since hanging up my race leathers / licence in 2004, chasing the outright Nurburgring lap record has almost given the same buzz, but that’s the only thing that has come close.
Now the feeling was back and I was fully pumped.
We were released in 20 second intervals, and by numerical order.
360 set off. Now it was my turn.
The long beep sounded.
I was ready.
10 seconds later, the 5 short beeps chimed. Foot hard on the pedal and GO GO GO.
I shot off like a rocket. Or so I thought. Within 50 yards I was panting like a dominatrix in a dungeon, and looking at the ground 6 inches infront of my wheel….all the things not to do when racing. It was also very slippery and the first section was particularly gloopy. C’mon Mike, pedal the damn thing I thought to myself. I couldn’t see the person infront (mainly because I wasn’t looking up and stumbling from one corner to the next in novice panic), but thought I was going well enough.
Then my world caved in.
Number 362 came past me high on a corner.
Balls.
I tagged onto his coat tails and shadowed him the rest of the way to the bottom. At the end I congratulated him and pedalled up to the start of stage two.
The other trickled up and we all had a good bit of banter again, I said that I would go last this time as I was obviously steady away and didn’t want to hold anyone up. Everyone else went and I was the last E-Bike of the group to go. I gave myself a metaphorical kick up the arse as there was no way I was going to be beaten on time again by everyone. Again the beeps released me and I set off. The red mist had now descended and I pedalled as hard as I could for as long as I could. The bike was bouncing all over the place and just after the first road crossing there were a series of small jumps. I took off on the first one and knew instantly that it had turned to snot. It wasn’t long before the front wheel hit the up slope of the next jump and then it all went Pete Tong. Straight over the bars and into the bracken, bike all tangled up with me. The marshal helped me up by lifting the bike for me, and the adrenaline kicked in. Forks bent all over, computer broken (only the plastic case on the display), levers bent round….the usual decent crash items. I held the front wheel with my knees and yanked on the bars, checked I was clear to go and jumped back on the bike. Handlebars were still bent so had to take it steady and at the next road crossing I quickly pulled up and straightened them up some more as best as I could. Back on the bike again and they were still out slightly but rideable.
Come the end of Stage two and a few of the group were waiting for me. I was grinning like a Cheshire cat as the adrenaline was now well and truly flowing, and dismounted to lick my wounds and straighten the bike again. I twisted brake levers and the bars back into their normal position, and my left side was now covered in mud. I felt OK, but my hips had taken a good whack and I could feel it there – the upper body was fine due to the armour I was wearing, big shout out to Leatt Air Fit body armour….
Our third stage was one especially built for E-MTB’s and included an uphill section. I was now starting to get in the groove and not as nervous, plus this stage although being timed, there were no start beeps – we just went at our own free will (leaving gaps of course) and the electronics picked us up at each end. I could remember most of this stage and was chuffed when I caught the rider infront up (Rich from Race Co Cycles) – albeit if he was having mechanical trouble. I couldn’t get past him as I caught him up at the bottom of the hill section near the end, and the track was narrow for passing so stuck with him knowing that if we crossed the line together I wouldn’t be last on that stage at least (and he was going at a reasonable pace also).
Onto the final stage and the elite group of riders had already caught us up and some were going through the timing gear already. There was about half a dozen of us and again I let the rest go first with me bringing up the rear of the E-Bikes category. This was the stage with the steep drop off and I had already made my mind up to do the chicken run instead off the cliff, but when I got to the fork it had been closed due to being too slippery and dangerous. I went as fast as I could and half way down the stage saw the rider infront.
YES.
The red mist descended again and that instantly overtook my talent. Traversing across some slippery roots I got all tangled up and again decided that I needed a quick rest and inspect the dirt at close quarters. As it was on quite a steep hill, both myself and the bike slipped down a fair bit and out of the tape. Back in the course and on the bike, I had lost sight of the rider infront and shot out at the end of the run feeling excited, elated and sore…
The rest of the group were waiting for me and we all pedalled back to the car park, nattering as we went and chewing the fat on life in general. After snipping off the transponder and handing it back, we all congregated infront of the big screen to see the live results / times. I was gutted. Last out of 10. Although my second stage time wasn’t up for some reason (was I that slow with my crash???), but eventually it was displayed and I was promoted to 8th out of ten. Get in. I didn’t finish last.
Looking at my times, I was 4th fastest on the special stage, and lower half of all the other stages – my crash made me last on stage 2 by about a minute (no surprises there).
Bike back in the car and then drove home, adrenaline wearing off and feeling very stiff on my left hip (getting out to fill up with petrol was entertaining to say the least).
Would I do one again? Hell yeah. Where do I sign up?
Highly recommended, I met some great people in the category and I encourage everyone to have a go at least once in their life and an event such as this. Expect to see me in several races next year, I have found a new buzz….