STORM (not that bird off X-men)

The day began like any other with the obvious exception that it didn’t. The sky was littered with filthy grey clouds unleashing the contents of their being onto the backdrop of the Exmoor hills. Normally this would be a good chance to potter around the kitchen in slippers with a bacon sandwich clenched firmly in fist, however this day was the South Fork team ride.

Ten of us pulled up into the deserted village of Exford at 9am ready to ride into the storm wearing most of the UK’s stocks of ‘Gore-Tex’. Chris kindly led us straight up to Dunkery Beacon where the wind was comparable to being hit in the face with a sock full of pennies. Fuelled on a crazy mix of Accelerade and secret energy bars supplied to us by our new team mum Jane the ride from here on in became nothing short of nice.

We descended from a height of 519metres (for the profile ponders) into a valley with nine river crossings. On a normal day I pride myself on being able to ride all of these without a dab but, today was going to be more of a challenge as the usually 2 inch depth had been swollen to about the top of the wheels. Pete went first as on a single speed as he couldn’t afford to lose momentum (however he could it seems afford to lose all self respect as he was for some reason wearing what can only be described as a ladies handbag on each foot). Gary followed with skilled success and Luke …………did not. As I sat on the river bank chatting gaily with Mr Toad and Badger enjoying this fine autumnal day I spotted a pair of white Specialized shoes drift lazily by in the current. Attached to said shoes was a drowning Edgar snorting Exmoor’s finest frigid waters from within his cavernous nostrils. My how we all laughed.

Chris led us up vale and down dale (not Winton) before trying to kill us all in shute descent through a holly bush and over a small cliff. At the top of the next cliff Sean pointed out that our intrepid guide had disappeared and while the temptation was to pretend we hadn’t noticed and push on into the 60 mile an hour head wind Nick made it very clear that he would sulk and make his life miserable, so we waited, and waited and shivered and waited. A quick cuddle with Matt and a discussion on library books staved off the immediate danger of exposure and Chris finally appeared after Jane went back to rescue him.

The last descent was crazy foolish. Slippery green slabs of Exmoor’s finest rock covered with flowing crystal spring water may sound like an M&S recipe but in fact nearly served most of us up on a plate. Pete and Nick nailed it a high speed which appeared to be the best method as the rest of us took the drop a little more slowly and got eaten up. I was particularly proud of my athletic ability as I vaulted over the bars and landed feet first. As I ran off the speed whilst trying to avoid the chasm of rocks on my left I was slightly bemused to see my bike cart wheel past me on the right and land in a hedge.

Back in Exford we attacked the local pub for a carvery dinner and between us polished off the majority of an Exmoor pony, a small vat of the local brew (called ‘2 Stroke Ale’) and deposited most of the outside inside. Goodbyes followed shortly and as Sean wiped the last, tear from his eye we were all silenced by the sound of someone kicking a dog in the throat. Turning to find the source of the noise we couldn’t help but wonder at the irony of Chris’s choking, retching car being a ‘Rover’.

Last weekend saw the muddiest of racing weekends so far with Luke and Pete riding the cross and myself and captain cheese heading to Aldershot for the first of the ‘Brass Monkeys Series’.

In the cross, both Luke and Pete were treated to high winds and heavy rain as the race began. On lap one the mud imbedded itself in the gears and started to cause issues. Pete seems to be coming into his own in mud and tore the field apart (in the literal sense) to take second place on the podium. Luke sadly built up such an impressive pile of mud on his rear sprockets and the rear mech finally gave up and wrapped itself around the chain stay before snapping clean off.


In Aldershot I had planned to take a few pictures to blog but gave up on the idea (see picture from car) almost immediately. The race began 45 minutes late, by which time myself and Sean were nearly dead from cold. As the gun went we sprinted directly into a marsh hub deep in mud and were instantly stuck. The wind howled and rain exorcised its demons upon us turning what looked like seriously useful single track into a shallow river. After the first lap some 500 riders had passed over the course make the race a consistent battle of technical skills and screams.


After just two laps no one had any brake pads left, everyone was shivering and people were packing like a cheap holiday in Benidorm. On lap three Sean’s mech snapped into three pieces (see picture) which still left him positioned in the 60’s. After 3 hours and 55 minutes I was running the descents as I had no brakes and shaking like ‘Stevens’ so I climbed off with the temptation of going back out for a final lap firmly spat out of my mind leaving me 7th place. Five hundred riders started and as I ran back to the car park I discovered no more than 50 cars still in place.


That’s all for now, team ride at Haldon on Wednesday 2nd December 18.30pm all welcome.

Mike

Unimaginative Blog Title

Much of Chard was destroyed in a devastating fire in 1577 which seems somewhat ironic considering the name of the town. Last weekend the South Fork Cyclo Cross boys headed over the Devon border to Holyrood in Chard Somerset for a race of mud, muck and mire.

Luke was once more on form and loving the mud, I can only assume that because he lives over the boarder in Somerset that he is used to scrabbling about in filth as his performance was not effected one bit by the conditions and he battled his way into 2nd place. Pete being Devonian is more used to the balmy conditions and favourable terra firma associated with the holiday county but still flung himself into fifth position.

This weekend has seen racing for both the Cyclo Cross and Mountain bike scene. Pete raced cross in mud even thicker than that found the previous week and took the second spot proving his mud learning curve to be steep and effective. The rest of us went down to Plymouth for the first in the Soggy Bottom Series.

Within two minutes of being there four people had asked me where Gez and Pete were and after thirty minutes I considered mounting a sandwich board on my bike to save repeating myself. Pete and Gez have not missed a Soggy Bottom for about three years and the event didn’t feel quite the same in their absence. In attendance however was myself, Luke, Matt, Nick, Henry, Marc, Martin, Cheese, Barny, Chris and our newest rider Jane.

Having endured four solid days of torrential rain it was assumed by all that the conditions would be horrific so mud tyres were fitted and drainage holes were drilled into gussets prior to arrival. It was therefore somewhat of a shock to discover that the course was mostly dry and seriously fast. Martin treated us all to a viewing of his superman underpants which seemed to set the scene for the day. As the team kitted up, warmed up, lubed up and tuned up I looked around me at the assembled crew of heroes fresh form the pages of a ‘Marvel’ comic.

Martin and Nick seemed to be having some sort of grudge match despite being in different categories with Martin smugly taking the lead early on in the race. Nick however was laying down some seriously quick lap times which proved to be more than fast enough to pass Martin on the last lap as he pushed his punctured steed over the line with his smug smile firmly removed. Henry and Marc rode hard in the sport category battling a little with each other and a lot with the rest of the field to finish 6th and 7th with Henry leading in.

The expert/elite race was one of the most exciting of the day with a battle for supremacy going on for the top spot. Iain Payne led out from the start but was quickly pulled back by Luke. The lead battled on for four laps with both riders close enough to buzz tyres on the long ‘Cottage Return, descent. On lap five Luke attacked for the last time on the ‘Clif Climb’ winning himself a small gap which he was able to sustain for the duration crossing the line 47 seconds clear.

In the masters event we actually headed off the line in a reasonably sedate manner and by the top of the climb I found myself in the lead group. I knew Jay Horton was somewhere behind me and likely to catch up soon so I hid behind Ollie Taylor and Alistair Lovell to save some energy until he arrived. In theory this was a good idea but good ideas are after all ideas only and I was dropped just a few minutes later. Jay caught me on the next lap and then passed Alistair and Ollie to take the lead. By lap three I started to warm and found I have plenty of leg left, upped the pace and pulled back Ollie and Alistair. With about a mile to go I caught Jay and jumped his wheel to regroup for an attack. Sadly Jay had plenty left and when he decided it was time to go, he went and there was nothing I could do but settle for 2nd place. Matt crossed the line very shortly after me riding his new team bike for the very first time into 7th place with Barny and Cheese following smiling as always.

Are newest rider Jane ended an excellent days racing in the veteran ladies race wandering casually over the line in first place. Despite puncturing and running half the last lap Jane won by over 11 minutes.


Next week we have the team ride on Exmoor (all welcome) and the week after sees the first round of the ‘Brass Monkeys’ series so the next blog will be after that.

Mike

Jelly Fish Wardrobe

Various shades of grey coveted what had never been a promising sky for an Exmoor extravaganza. With a flask full of coffee I left the house at 05.45 and headed to Minehead to meet what must have been almost the whole South Fork Team. A few of us had entered the 100 mile event and everyone else the 100km yet as I pushed my bike to registration I had to wonder how hard it had to rain horizontally into my face before water would push its way past my eye balls thus filling my nasal cavity with water and effectively drowning me.

The first ray of sunshine appeared when the organisers deemed it too dangerous to run the 100mile and forced everyone to ride the 100km. I tried to look disappointed for appearances sake but in my head I could hear the ‘Happy Talking’ song from ‘South Pacific’.

We all sort of agreed to ride together, partially as a bonding exercise and partially to share the gale force wind out between us. In true team SouthFork style we spent so long standing around talking about bikes and watching Martin have intercourse with a wet floor sign that we nearly missed the last start time. Everyone scrambled to find their bikes and ended up of going off in separate groups. I happily found myself in a group with Nick, Henry, Martin and Luke. At a comfortable pace I span along watching tiny droplets of water forming on my jacket like miniature crystal balls depicted a very wet near future for us all. When I looked up Luke had disappeared up the road at a speed that could only mean that McDonalds had just opened.

Sixty mile an hour head winds greeted us as we fought our way up onto the top of the moor. We tried to keep it social but no one could hear anything anyone else was saying so everyone just nodding and shouted yes at all communication. I believe this how the system was born. ‘The System’ seemed to mean that each of us took a turn of about 2 minutes on the front at finding a route through the crowd. With 1700 riders present hiding from the wind was not nearly as difficult as shouldering our way through the writhing throng. I casually flicked the bike between two riders with Henry and Nick on my wheel before throwing myself to the left to whip around another. The rider turned out to be riders…….on a tandem and I had to slam on the brakes almost skittling the lot of us. Swiftly relieved of my duties on the front Henry took over and dragged us into weather that could be described at best as, un-clement. Tim Moore describes this sort of weather better than I might.

“My helmet was pinging with a spasmodic tattoo of heavy rain; in minutes so was the inside if my skull. The scenery pulled down the shutters and before long my blinking, slitted gaze dropped to the wet road in front of me.”

While all this was going on Gez and Luke were up in the top twenty riders laying down sub four hour rides, Matt was dragging a serious soiled cross bike with knobbly tyres across the open moor, Martin was still entertaining the masses with jokes and fire juggling somewhere and Sean was a quivering wreck after clashing elbows at high speed and nearly falling over a 600ft cliff.

At the first feed I joined up with an old friend and spent the remainder of the ride gossiping like an old bag women. Important issues were covered that afternoon including the merits of Accelerade, the consistency of gels, girls in lycra and the suitability of ‘The Michelin Man’ as the logo of a sporting product. Before the topic of retro mountain bikes was complete it was all over. The Butlins’ building appeared out of the rain and hot coffee was burning my throat. A fitting finish to an excellent days riding topped off with gold finishing certificates for all. A particular well done to Sean who raised £300 for charity.

The cyclo cross riders have still been plugging away the last few weeks with excellent results for all the team riders. A special well done to Luke and Pete who finished 3rd and 4th in the Bodmin round and 4th and 5th in the Kingsbridge race.

I have no photos at present as it has been too wet to get the camera out but I will add some later when the official pictures appear. See you Soggy Bottom.

Mike

With cyclocross season in full swing I think it is important for those of us with little understanding to view the video above to see what it is all about. The commentator is particularly amusing......."it seems to combine all the worst in cycling and cross country running!!" That just makes me want to try it.

The South Fork team have once again been busy. The week before last saw the end of season blow out at Newnham Park. Cyclists like to keep busy so Saturday the last of the National Championships was held, in the evening a cyclo cross race and then on Sunday morning a 60km enduro. In the National race Luke took a very respectable 12th in category while Pete was relegated to the back of the field for ‘un sportsman like behaviour’. Pete claims that he misunderstood the ‘pit’ rules and accepted a spare wheel when he punctured, however word has it that he was actually caught in the bushes defiling an inner tube and a bottle of latex.

On Sunday a whole flock of the SF Massive rolled into the car park for the 60km enduro. Pete and Luke were well up the front of the finishers and everyone else dragged themselves into the arena just a few minutes later. Nick, having worked in the shop for 72 days straight with just slow blinking for a rest bite picked this Sunday to have a wash and totally engulfed himself in the last river crossing. See picture.

The weekend just gone enjoyed the last of the glamorous weather for the Cyclo cross at West Buckland. I have no photos at this time but our newly appointed Captain the rider formally known as ‘Cheese’ (now to be referred to as Mr Cheese or Yes Sir Sean Sir) has promised to send them to me later. In the seniors Luke took 3rd, Pete 4th, Blake 6th, Gez 12th, Matt 16th, Bradley and Nick a few places back but still in touch. Pete took a good crash on the head on the last lap and Bradley being the well dressed ever professional competitor wisely waited until he had finished before crashing into the crowd.

Injury has dominated the end of my season forcing me to miss all the fun events and go straight in the winter training schedule which appears to involve riding off road at speed with no lights, riding in circles in the woods in the rain and getting lost with the Wednesday night crew. Many thanks to Pete who agreed to guide Luke, Bradley and myself around Woodbury common, got us lost on MOD land and led us through a field full of explosives.

The ‘Soggy Bottom’ series is just around the corner and everyone wants a piece of the pie. The new Soggy marketing campaign includes a picture of a wrestler in South Fork kit which proves how far the team has come in such a short space of time and has promoted a desire for us all to ride in Mexican wrestling masks. They can be found on E-bay in similar colours to the kit or it is possible to borrow masks from Martins’ personal collection that he keeps in a plastic Asda bag in the cistern of the shop toilet.


There is another cross race this weekend, the Exmoor Beast in a few weeks time, Luke will lose his keys…………..again and another team ride in the pipe line (see Mr Cheese for details)so I will report again in a couple of weeks.

Mike

Busy Times

A lot has been going on in the last few weeks which provides a partial explanation for my tardy blog postage for the last few weeks. The season is nearing the end so the South Fork boys have been entering all events to try and scratch that last itch before we return to plugging small gears in the dark, wearing an Eskimos wardrobe and smearing our bodies in goose fat.

The weekend before last Sean, Barny, Matt and Ed entered the Exmoor Beast, Gez, Pete, Matt and Luke were racing cyclo cross, Blake was getting his mug featured on here www.simonkeitch.com with the other cycling greats and Chris and I headed up to Scotland for the Keilder 100. Sean has sent me a report which I have edited a little as it was 4000 words long.

100 kms across Exmoor for charity sounded good until the alarm clock went off at 4am Saturday morning. I quickly had my breakfast, packed my kit and food as recommended by Southforks long distance specialist Mike. At 04.30am I picked up Barney the other Southfork social riders attempting the 100km marathon and Ed and Matt who were doing the 50 km loop which started 2 hours later.

We arrived in Porlock not knowing what to expect but were both surprised at the amount of riders getting kitted up at 5.30am ready for the 6am start. We had the usually talk from the organiser about it not being a race but we had a number board so the gauntlet had been laid.

Barney had his usual pre race mechanical losing his light bracket on the way there being a highly skilled metal worker he found a bit of rope and used this as a temporary bracket. The pace from the start was fast and within the first couple of miles we were up the front but Barney was having trouble with his spds causing a stop for an adjustment that saw the whole field go past us.

By checkpoint 1 we had climbed on coastal bridleways with great views and worked our way back to the front end of the field and at checkpoint 2 in Simonbath the marshal informed us we were within the first 10 riders. After 5.5hours we climbed up to Dunkery Beacon at 519 metres bumped into fellow Southfork social riders Matt and Ed doing the 50km loop. We stopped briefly to compare stories and take a few photos before embarking on the massive rocky descent from the beacon which rattled my chain in half by the bottom. From here we destroyed the tracks through Horner Woods combined with more monster road climbs to take us back to checkpoint 3. Driving winds whipped up to test our man strength as we flogged through one seriously muddy bridleway across the moors followed by a short section of road until one of the best descents of the day through Porlock Woods to the finish.

An epic ride in which we were in top 10 finishers on 100 km loop completing 8495 feet of climbing in 8hrs 2 minutes.

While Sean and crew were testing the Exmoor facilities the Cross season was starting in Wellington and four of the team were helping to kick off the season. New bikes were apparent on the start line as Gez, Pete, Matt and Luke had taken receipt of their Cannondale cross machines sprayed up fire engine red.

As the gun sounded the boys slid down the pole (except Matt who danced around it in a weasel skin thong) onto the fire engines and off to Trumpton.

Unbelievably Pete is still peaking (I’m sure that’s not possible at his age) and crossed the line for the third podium place closely followed by Luke, then Gez and Matt. A good start to the cross season and a perfect outing for the new bikes.

Meanwhile Chris and I were flogging the motorways on the way up to Scotland. Chris sensibly left at 7am and cruised across the moat of Kielder Castle and 3pm. For me the race had already begun. I left home 12.30, got to Manchester at 7.30 with the sat nav giving me an ETA of 22.40pm at Kielder. The last sign on time was at 22.00 which left me sitting in my extra brown safety pants as I completed the final leg in 2hrs 15minutes.

Kielder Castle loomed at me out of the darkness as I stepped out of the car in a Stephen King inspired forest. Silence reached my ears as I trekked through the woods using a mobile phone as a torch. I had read an article in National Geographic about the reintroduction of wolves into the Scottish forests and while I was on the English side of Scottish border and the wolves should be on Scottish side I had to wonder if the wolves knew that.

Chris and I were staying in a hotel in Newcastleton which meant a further drive to slumber. At 23.00pm we arrived at fore mentioned hotel having eaten nothing for 8 hours to discover the kitchen was shut. Some how the hotel owner had discovered that Chris was working on the ‘Tour of Britain’ which was passing through Newcastleton in 2 weeks time. Hoping to receive some TV coverage he gave us the biggest room………the honeymoon suite.

In the bar the manager was very keen to feed us and left us nursing a pint to hack up a pig and throw it bleeding onto a plate. Two good looking young guys staying together in the honeymoon suite caused for interesting questions by the barman who naturally assumed we were lovers. I strung the guy on for a little while but Chris finally cracked when the barman suggested that he might like to watch our love making and explained that I was married and had a small child. Enjoying Chris’s discomfort I protested that it was about time he was honest with himself and gave the barman a slow wink.

Fortunately the hotel had put a single bed in our room next the double and we settled down to the luxurious 4 hours of sleep before the race began. In the morning as we left at 05.15 for the start line I sneaked back into the room and carefully made the single bed with hospital corners that would have made Florence Nightingale proud.

The race itself began a 06.30 and treated 230 riders to some of the most spectacular trails and scenery I have ever seen. When I reached Chris’s first Accelerade dispensing point at 25 miles I felt as strong as a hobos breath and was sitting just outside the top ten. At 53 miles my body started to give up and small injuries I had been carrying since Trans Wales 2 weeks before became serious issues. At 68 miles I was a ruin and waved the flag, dropped down off the mountain to the valley road and completed the 18 miles back to the start on smooth tarmac. That 18 miles was a highlight for me and with a roaring tail wind like the hand of god shoving me down the most beautiful valley in the world I quietly smiled to myself at the thought of the hotel staff finding just one bed had been slept in.

The Kielder destroyed me but I left a happy man with a promise to return next year and give it a sound kicking. Until then many thanks to Chris for his support and to Nick for the rapid turn around on my bike repairs.

Mike

Trans Wales

Over the years Wales has been continually chastised and repressed. The Romans started this trend in AD43 but the Welsh were then mostly left alone after the Romans decided the climate was miserable and went home. The English dominated Wales many years later and treatment of the locals was notoriously poor which still causes some resentment today. Interestingly the repression of the Welsh by the ‘English’ began with ‘William the Conquer’ who was French and the French do not appear to be on the end of any resentment at all. I had to wonder at the irony of this as I crossed the French built Severn Bridge and paid my £5.40 into the French bank account of the toll company last Saturday on my way to the ‘Trans Wales’.

The ‘Trans Wales’ is a 7 day stage race starting at Builth Wells and looping 540km around the largest mountains in the country scaling 16,800 metres and completing 4 time trials. The SouthFork team sent myself and Fiona as a mixed team to represent the shop.

‘Man's mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions’

New ideas and learning were the order of the week. I learnt an awful lot about my riding, the benefits of riser bars, interval training and good nutrition, but most importantly that Fiona is mountain biking ‘gay icon’ and that sherry and Red Bull are not better than drinking warm beer (thanks Noel).

Day 1 was a day for riding the legs in as no time trial was planned. This didn’t make the day any easier but was a great opportunity to potter through mountains, meet the other riders and suss out the competition. It seemed for me and Fiona that the competition was likely to be from Maddie and Jay (team Certini) and the South African brother and sister team of Theresia and Werner Baumker.

The first time trial was held at the ‘Climax Trial’, one of my favourite descents in any man made centre. While we didn’t really expect to beat Jay and Maddie overall, Fi and I had picked out 2 stages that we were going to try and win based on previous experience and what we considered to be our strengths. We were to cross the start line together but then split up and an average time would be taken from both of our times. I felt really strong on this trial treating every climb as a full effort interval and finding the flow on all the descents. Staying on the ground was an issue here, too much speed meant airborne sections and risk of serious pain but too little lost the flow and ruined all enjoyment. I crossed the finished line on just the front wheel 46 seconds in front of Jay feeling tremendously pleased with myself.

We had 4 time trials throughout the week with three of them placed about 50km into the days ride and one at night time. Maddie and Jay pipped us in all the time trials although just by 8 seconds in the last one leaving myself and Fiona placed in second at the end of the week.

The Trans Wales was my holiday this year having foregone the trip to Spain with my wife and child in favour of sleeping on the floor, eating breakfast at 06:30, defecating in a plastic box and showering with other men. While I was really happy to get home to Becky, Gideon and a real toilet, I’d do it again in a heart beat.

On the road Blake Pond has been topping the podium once more this time in the Generation Sports & Cycles Upavon Summer Series 12/14. Blake erupted from the pack to out sprint all his peers and take the honours. The shocked faces of riders like the ‘Sports Beans’ team said more than words could have and Blake took a pile of points closer to his ‘Elite’ license. I have scoured the internet for a picture but failed. If you have a podium shot of Blake drop me an e-mail and I’ll add it later.

The Kielder is the next race coming up for me and Fiona and the Cyclo – X season is starting for the rest of the team so the next report will likely to be in 2 weeks time. Until then I leave you with words from the great Albert Einstein.

“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving”

Mike

Sun, Sunny Day

Things have quietened down a little since last blog with the race calendar easing up a little a bit and riders recovering from their efforts at Bontrager 24/12. That said Pete was racing again last week in the Southern XC Championships sadly unaccompanied by Luke who has been having some problems with rectal sores since the last race (sorry buddy, couldn’t help myself).


Pete described the race as the hardest he has competed in this season with a fast course that kept his pulse mostly in the high 70’s for the entire duration. Despite the unrealistic amount of lactic acid accumulated in his legs Pete pulled off an excellent result with 6th place in category. Pete can be found this week recovering in his new caravan in Newquay enjoying the pleasures of the open road (of course anyone with a caravan has an open road……….in front of them). Sadly this meant Pete missed the SouthFork and friends party ride on the Quantocks.

This weekend Sean/Cheese stepped up to organise a team ride for SouthFork on the Quantock Hills. After much ‘Facebook’, text, phone and e-mail work Sean pulled it off and managed to get 13 riders to Lydeard Hill Car Park by 09.30 on Sunday morning. Typically the shop boys were a little late (they had much further to come) and once arrived Henry got his bike out of the box, took out his tool kit and started to assemble it.

The weather was perfect with clear skies and just enough breeze to keep the smell of 13 sweaty riders moving away from us, unfortunately it was not strong enough to keep the smell of Henry’s arse away from us. It had only stopped raining 2 days previously but somehow the hills were mostly dry and dusty with just a few muddy patches to remind us we were hard core off road specialists. Punctures came thick and fast with three in 5 miles but, the group camaraderie and swooping technical descents made up for any mechanical difficulties.

After weeks of sliding or carefully nursing the front wheel around slippery corners the dry trails made for an unleashing of downhill pent up energy with rolling eyes, gritted teeth and giggling that induced faster and faster torment. With one more big descent before returning to the car park we all let loose the demons on a rooty, gnarled woodland beauty with just 2 line choices. At the front of the pack we all jumped into the left line railing the corners and getting just slightly airborne over the worst of the roots. Banked into a left I was first to discover a tree across the trail and forced myself to shut my eyes as I ploughed through the felled branches before bursting out the other side. I screamed ‘TREE’ to warn the others and was relieved to hear them all clear the gap, relaxing I changed lines to avoid a branch and heard the hiss of a burst tyre followed by the distinctive clatter of bouncing bicycle.

Gez had changed lines for the same reason as myself but clipped a tree stump totally hidden by grass which pretty much torn his tyre from his rim, at the speed we were moving he didn’t stand a chance. Chris was just behind Gez and saw him travel fifteen feet through the air Matrix stylie before unceremoniously slamming headfirst into ground. Clutching his neck and failing to move there was none of the usual laughter associated with a good stack and silence awaited an unsure outcome. Gez slowly started to move, complained of serious pain in his neck, took off the remains of his helmet (which was in three pieces), shook his head until his eyes were back in the middle and calmly repaired his punctured wheel before riding back to his car.

Every now and then you have a good ride with friends that has a bit of everything and reminds you why started riding in the first place. It is these rides that you remember, recount over a beer for years to come and it is these rides that you look forward to every time you kit up and head to the hills. Thirteen riders started this ride and thirteen returned, all happy, all tired and all satisfied that this summer we have had a least one ride that was undeniably awesome.

Apologises go out to Matt and Ed, we hunted for you up the hill and down but missed you somewhere in the trees. Speak soon.
Mike