What Happened in 2012?

Kicking off 2012 saw the arrival of a new bike for a very specific purpose. The Scott Scale 29er cruises effortlessly along the bridleways of the North and South Downs.

Completing the South Downs Triple was the major achievement of the year, being the only person insane enough to take on the 300 mile challenge. Backed by a fantastic support crew I arrived in Winchester for the second time, 37 hours after originally setting out from Eastbourne.

Prior to the Triple in June I enjoyed an enlightening coaching week in Portugal with AQR Coaching. Packing the oversized bike to take on the plane was an interesting process.

Most of the second half of the year was spent off the bike recovering from the extreme ride in June. Helping out at Bog Dog near Brighton was a very rewarding experience enabling others to enjoy the trails and the thrill of the race.

Watching live athletics for the first time in the Paralympics was awesome. We shouted loudly as Jonny Peacock won his 100m Gold on the Thrilling Thursday. At the Olympic Museum it was interesting seeing my Great Grandmother’s sporting achievements as she was the first woman to win a Gold medal in 1904.

Surprising my wife for her birthday, we saw further sporting achievements in the form of Europe’s Strongest Man, it made us feel rather skinny.

What a year 2012 has been. Riding the South Downs Triple was such a lifetime experience I’m preparing a detailed account of the ride for a short book.

If 2012 was this good, how much better can we make 2013?

Dog Handling at the Big Dog

The heavily laden van stood alone in the field surrounded by the damp grass of the early morning.  The air was quiet but filled with a sense of expectancy.  In a few hours time over 500 riders would be racing around Stanmer Park fighting it out to be the Big Dog of 2012.

Wandering over, two figures could be seen in the form of Rory Hitchens and Simon Catmur.  As we set to work we were soon joined by others and the big inflatable Start/Finish arch was erected.  Following the photocopied plans, posts linked with the Big Dog tape dictated the course route while I was marking out the car parking areas.  Without thinking I found myself ensuring the posts were colour coordinated, equally spaced and perfectly aligned.

Giant pegs were hammered into the ground for the two marquees while various vehicles arrived with gazebos for the trade stands.  The once empty field was now buzzing with a harmony to get the Big Dog in motion.

Cars with bikes, vans with bikes, and people on bikes all started appearing.  Excited participants and some rather confused locals wanting a quiet morning were arriving in mass.  Sometimes it was not obvious as to who should be directed where.  Identifying some of the soloists, I did try to point them a place near the track as this is so important for them.

Filling up the field with vehicles, we opened up the next part of the park for the overflow parking.  The cars just kept on coming.  One rather smart car arrived with just a few characters on its number plate.  Establishing they were here for the Big Dog and directing them to the gate, I received the response “You mean you want me to park in a field?!”

Big Dog start

The hustle and bustle in the centre of the arena increased as the race prepared to start.  Setting off with squeals of delight to the thumping PA system, it was a complete contrast to the docile field just 6 hours earlier.

The main part of my work was done, time now to drink tea, eat cake and catch up with friends.  This process was repeated many times during the afternoon.  My daughter had kindly made some cakes for the occasion and I later found myself handing out endless refills of tea for the thirsty riders and spectators.

Lorna's cakes

The atmosphere of the Big Dog is one of the best in the racing calendar.  Still not able to ride from my South Downs Triple, I needed an excuse to get to the Big Dog.  Having received so much from others on my Triple ride, giving something back here seemed most appropriate.  It was also a nice opportunity to see and thank all those who came out to meet me when I was on my ride.

As the race was drawing to an end and the tea urn was running out of water, the focus turned to the prize giving.  With so many categories and some prizes going down to 5^th place, the numerous boxes of goodies were overwhelming.  The challenge was to get the right prizes to the right people.  Working together we found a process that ran smoothly.  

With the Big Dog raced and won and with everything said and done, the crowds dispersed.  Marquees came down, the big arch was deflated, rubbish bags filled up and everything was stuffed into the cars and vans.

Leaving the empty field little remained of the excitement and fun of the Big Dog, except for the lasting memories and the will to come back again next year.

Click here for Big Dog 2011 - Throwing away the rule book

Big Dog – Throwing away the rule book

As the trees parted revealing the dry twisty trail, with the wheels gliding over the knobbly roots, I found an incredible sense of unity with the bike. Flying round the blind corners looking to catch the next rider, a sense surrounded me that this was the moment. The moment for which riding is all about, giving your all for the buzz, the excitement and the passion of racing on two wheels.

The Big Dog race was such fun with a wonderful course, the thrill of riding was evident all over the park. Loads of top names jostled for position as a sea of prizes flowed from the numerous sponsors. The air hummed as riders completed their lap on a high, to pass the honour onto their team mate to enter magical woods.

Spot the Redhill CC gazebo

Pausing between laps was a novelty for me as normally I ride solo. The burst of energy with your heart rate predominantly above 90% for the 45 minute lap got the juices flowing. I was also much more relaxed beforehand as I had no race plans, no lists of equipment, no nutrition schedules and no timing sheets. After throwing all my kit together at the last minute the night before, I sat back with a beer, which I normally bann before a race.

The shock of the first hill on the course was quite a wake up call as I had hardly warmed up. Hitting the single track trails for the first time took a while for me to get my eye in. The trees bent together with barely enough room for the handlebars to squeeze through, and the roots caught my wheels trying to trip me up. Fighting with the off-camber corner the other side of the A27 reminded me of the wasp nest disturbed 2 years ago. An attack from the blighters coupled with a reaction, brought my race to an abrupt end. This time there were no angry bullets as I climbed the rooty trail.



Picture by Alan Gayle



The fast flowing single track on the second half brought a smile to my face before I was spat out in sight of the finish line.

It was just the 1 lap, then I could rest. What a luxury, what do I do? This novel experience felt quite odd, perhaps I should be out doing another lap?

Relaxing with a cup of tea and wandering around the stands of bike goodies, I soak up the atmosphere of the arena. As my turn approaches and I hit the trails again. Wiser with the roots, I pick better lines and climb the hills. 20 minutes in with my heart thumping, the feel good factor overwhelms me. This is awesome! I tear through the single track with the trees giving way and power up the hills overtaking anything in sight. What a feeling of delight as the wheels skip over the roots and hold tight round the corners.

Coming to an abrupt end, the finish appeared leaving that buzz of excitement resonating in my bones.

A fantastic day, thanks to my team mates Gareth and Alan, the Big Dog crew and all those involved.

Big Dog meets Mud Dog

One of the pinnacles of my MTB calendar is the Big Dog race in Brighton. The atmosphere last year was so friendly where the whole event is organised on a not for profit basis. Driving down with Jon & John from Redhill Cycling Club, we erected the gazebo in a prime location and donned our new club jerseys. Gareth, Keith, Alex Matt & Monica joined us to fly the flag for Redhill.

My personal planning for these events is a detailed affair, where everything is calculated and organised. The anticipated lap times were prepared with suitable hydration and nutrition requiring two very short stops during the six hours of the race. With the ominous weather forecast and the slippery experience at Set2Rise due the wrong tyres, I opted for full traction with my winter Trailraker muddy tyres.

A 200 mass start is always difficult until we get suitably spread out where the jostling soon dies down. Where possible I try to spot the race numbers of other riders to see if they are a direct competitor. At registration I noticed all the 20 solo vet (over 40) riders were numbered from 60 to 79. Glancing round I note a few riders to watch out for.

The course was virtually all in the trees of Stamner Park. Although the woods only measure 1½ miles by ¼ mile, the organisers had cleverly squeezed in a 7 mile loop with nearly 1000 feet of climbing. Most of the course involves weaving between trees, watching for low branches and negotiating the millions of roots. There were a few sections that were smoother and wider where it was possible to grab a gel and overtake other riders.

Towards the end of lap 1 the heavens opened and the anticipated rain descended in abundance. The trees provided some shelter but it wasn’t long before I was soaked through.

Completing the first lap in 52 minutes, I was just 2 minutes behind my schedule. The congestion at the start had lost me some time, so I was quite happy with my progress as I entered the woods again for lap 2. The trails were now really slippery and treacherous. In places there was just no grip in the tyres to get up the hills or to stay on the track with an adverse camber. Pushing on, I got covered in mud from the spray flying up all over the place. On the descents, the wet disc brakes were singing in harmony from the different bikes. We were all in it together gritting our teeth hoping the rain would subside.

Grabbing a gel on one of the wider sections I tried to keep to my plan of 1 gel and 2 shot bloks per lap. With several sections of the woods looking very similar, I found it difficult to remember where to take them in anticipation of the hills.

Sliding in to the Start/Finish area at the end of lap 2 after 53 minutes, I accepted that the weather conditions were slowing me down a bit. A cheer from Anne Dickins on the side lines was a boost. I wasn’t expecting her to be at the race and at this stage I needed all the encouragement I could get. We were 2 hours in with the slippery conditions zapping our energy, yet there were 4 hours left until the finish.

Pushing on into lap 3, I was over taken by Ian Leitch on his 4^th lap who ran with his bike up one of the steepest and slipperiest sections. He either had mega traction in his shoes or there’s some local knowledge he kept to himself!

The rain eased off slightly and I managed to complete lap 3 in exactly 1 hour. Swapping over my CamelBak for more hydration, I grab a banana and set off again. This 30 second stop turned out to be my only stop for the whole race.

At this point the sun tried to poke between the clouds. The mud became less slushy and more like a congealable gloop. It now stuck to everything and the bike doubled its weight. Several times the wheels stopped turning due to the volume of sticky mud. Frequent pauses were needed with a stick or fingers to remove great handfuls of the stuff. The mud got everywhere, my drink tasted of mud and my gels were decidedly crunchy. A 6^th lap was looking less likely.

Completing lap 4 in 1:13 hours, 4 hours into the race there was only enough time for 1 more muddy lap in the 2 hours remaining. The first half of Lap 5 was even stickier, then it appears to dry out and harden slightly. With the loose mud on the descents, I had about as much traction as someone running down a bob sleigh track in flip flops. Frequently the front wheel was in opposite lock with the rear wheel sliding sideways.

The constant dodging between the trees was draining my concentration and I started to make a few mistakes. Loosing the front wheel in the mud, I took a close look at a bush. My shins were burning from the fall and a quick glance saw that there was more mud than blood. As I composed myself rider 66 passed me, who I later discovered to be Keith Whitten. Clocking him earlier we had overtaken each other several times during the race. He was very good on the single track, but relaxed on the climbs. I was not going to let him beat me.

Jumping back on the bike I complete the section of single track to find Keith on the climb. Determined to pass him I power up the short hill and dive into the final single track section. Using all my concentration to stay upright, I hold the lead into the final straight. A quick glance back informed me that it was rider 66 just behind me where I then stood on the pedals to sprint to the Finish.

Passing the Finish line just a few feet in front of Keith, I claim 6^th place after 5:18 hours.

Despite the mud and heavy rain, it was a good day out where I was pleased with my position. Cleaning the bike took at least 2 hours as the mud was stuck to everything.