Double Whammy

After the disappointment of the Nationals, I was filled with a determination to prove to myself that I wasn't a complete and utter waste and I took that motivation into the little criterium up north at Salt Ayre. Thanks to Zack Whitehead for the lift.
A rare treat was actually getting to a midday race on time, in fact early, and I was walking round with not a care in the world for a minute or two.
With half an hour to race start, I tried my hand at warming up at the rollers, and after a shaky start I had the hang of it and was soon spinning away like an over eager obese man 5 minutes into a spin class. In my mind I was looking like the definition of efficiency, I probably looked like this.
The race was a stop-start affair with the same people putting in half-hearted attacks every lap or so. After half an hour of racing, I readied myself and on the home straight putting in a strong attack when the pace dropped. I squeezed past a gap barely the width of my handle bars to discourage any Freds from following my wheel. I caught the break and put in another powerful acceleration to discourage any of them from latching onto my wheel. After half a lap I had a sizable gap of 10-20secs and all of a sudden my break had potential. Two other juniors from the bunch realized this and once I saw them chasing me I eased up to let them get on the bandwagon, after all 2 heads are better than 1, or in this case 6 legs better than 2. No? Bad continuation? Well suck it up its staying.

Anyway, we worked together for the remainder of the race, opened up half a lap lead and I just got beat in the sprint. Now I'm getting fed up with all the excuses I'm making but here's the one for this time. He had one more gear than me. Thats the truth. Anyway, here's the video of the finish

Whoaaahh, woah...

 On Sunday, the Championships of Yorkshire were held over a tough circuit near York that included a climb called Bulmer Bank.

Bulmer Bank

 

 

 

 

 

Needless to say, a worthy winner in the form of Joe Moses triumphed in the junior competition.
I was on his wheel when he launched the break and another rider, Connor Swift (relation to Ben) went with him. We rapidly opened up a gap and a lap later, on a drag going through a small village, I just let the wheel go and never managed to get back on. Excuses? Well since you asked, here they are. It was the early stage of the race and I hadnt warmed up properly because we arrived late and I was crying inside from the effort. And two, I didnt know the circuit and thought the climb carried on for another mile or so.

Fatty

Anyway, once I realized I wasn't getting back on, I sat up and let the bunch catch me. I recovered and after a hectic bunch sprint that involved us riding on the wrong side of the road, I crossed the line 5th.

Yesterday, I took my little brother and a couple of mates on a little ride. One a fast decent, he overcooked a corner and slammed into a pick-up truck. The truck was okay but little Alex had seen better days. Once he stopped screaming and the paramedics had doped him up on morphine and oxygen we got then news that he had a fractured pelvis and internal bleeding. We got to the hospital and in the emergency room he met his tearful mother. I had to leave because I saw someone's foot hanging off.

This morning he was told he'll be out of hospital in a day or two and back to normal in 4-6 weeks time. I hope you are all with me and wish him a speedy recovery.

Oh hiiiii

Junior Mens National Championships 2012

They say that there is a first for everything and this weekend had no shortage of firsts. I visited Wales for the first time, stayed in a budget hotel, paid for a budget hotel, did my first National Calendar, did my first Nationals, raced up a 3rd cat climb, raced more than 65 mile, finished 2 full bottles in a race, experienced a feed zone, broke the 600watt barrier on Strava for 5 minutes, got dropped in my first Nationals and finished my first Nationals.
As you can see, I had a jam-packed weekend.
Saturday was a rare sunny day, the rays of light and the warmth they carried dragged me out of bed and onto cafe racing. Not a lot of people had turned up, surprisingly, but Ian Wilkinson made a rare appearance. On the actual stint it all stayed together where with 2 mile to go I attacked over a short hill, caught the remnants of the flier and ploughed on. One chipper got onto my wheel so I let him do the last km, but with 100m to go Wilko stormed past to a victory on the inconspicuous, back water, club man cafe race. Why I've mentioned this I dont know, probably to fill space.

We drove down with the car (what else?) sagging under the weight of bike, wheels, toolboxes and lunchboxes, recon'ed the last 5 mile of the course, which conveniently happened to be on our route, and made our way to our lodgings. Upon opening the door to our 'family' room, I discovered a very inviting double bed, and two, not-so-inviting, singles. Clearly, me, having paid for all this and doing the biggest race of his life thus far, would acquire the luxurious double. Sadly, not so, as the driver decided he deserved the bed on the simple reason that he drove there. Upon the following discussion and reasoning that I needed the best night sleep possible, my brother slyly slid into the better of the two singles. That left me with the Flintstones bed with a mattress of rock and a sheet that was so thin it could slide down the cleavage of Katie Price. Needless to say, I hardly slept.

The next day, I jumped out of bed and straight into a nice hot shower, I needed to get some warmth back into my body. We got ready, checked out and left for HQ.
The car pack was bustling with activity as various team cars maneuvered into the smallest of spaces closest to the HQ, mechanic dads pumped tyres and team mates pinned numbers on each others jerseys. I handed in my spare wheels to neutral service (also a first!), had my gears checked (the aging commisaire complemented my steel stallion and mentioned that it was the only metal bike in the race) and warmed up.

The remnants of the peleton coming over the top of the Brecon Beacons

The race rolled out to a small Welsh town where the mayor flagged us off. The pack was then neutralized for 2 mile and an attack went almost straight away. The first 20mile of the course were rolling A-roads in glorious, warm sunshine. One 4th cat climb tested the legs before we hit the top of the Brecon Beacons. The 9-mile climb to 1500ft was a killer, with the race splintering to many a piece. Coming over the top were too distinct groups, one of 10-15 and 30 or so seconds back, my group,  remnants of the pack, which must have numbered 30 max. An amazing 5 mile, 45mph descent let us shake some of the lactic out of our legs and claw back some time from the breaks. Also a first in this race was a time-bike, with its horn beeping and awe-inspiring and all knowing black board that told us the times between the various groups in the race.
The next segment was flat and I contributed my labour at the front of the group, often putting in a pull to keep the times coming down. Unfortunately, this was to be my undoing. I had been eating and drinking well, and had been staying behind wheels and not putting in unnecessary efforts prior to the flat section. The efforts at the front (and the weight of my bike..) had fatigued me and when I had just finished an energy sapping effort we turned off onto the B-roads and the fourth categorized climb of the day. My legs were saturated in lactic and could not cope, so heart-brakingly I hopelessly slid back wards and outwards and was never to see the hot end off the race again.

A bit of bare-chested action

The next 15mile were ridden alone and with tears nearly in my eyes I hit the last hill. A trio of riders that had been dropped before joined me and we toiled up the last 3miles with an average of 10%. I eventually rolled over 47th, 19 minutes down on the winner.

So there we have it, my first National Calendar, at the deep-end with the National Championships. Whilst I finished I was disappointed with my result as I was aiming for a top 20. My next NC is the Tommy Simpson on the 17th of June. My next race is the Yorkshire Divs in a weeks time.

Slightly off note, my insurance claim is slowly making progress. Whilst I doubt I'll have a lightweight carbon before Tommy Simpson, I'm hopeful that I'll have a new racehorse before the Tour of Wales at the back end of August.

Bridlington CC Road Race

Friday started with a greeting from the sun, much to the surprise and delight of many. Me more so since I was riding out across the country to Reighton where a static caravan was to become my home for the weekend. The cross -country trek was just short of 100miles and last just over 6 hours. Pleasant weather accompanied we all the way, and the terrain was perfect to get onto the drops and do some sustained efforts across the Plain of York. My nice average speed was then blunted by the sore thumb that is Garrowby Hill, stubbornly butting out of the horizon with its 17% gradient. It even has a cross at the top. Not the meanest of hills by Yorkshire standards but when you've been averaging 22mph for the last 2 hours it comes as a kick to the balls when you're zig zagging up it at 7mph. Undeterred, I got over the top and had a 20mile downhill drag to compensate for the undue pain. By this time it was well and truly dark but my 1200lumen retina-burning lights showed me the way all the way to the sea, where they were quickly trumped by Flamborough lighthouse. 

Saturday continued the run of pleasant weather, with temperatures peaking in the low teens. Last year, Brid was the only race were I had unzip my jersey due to the heat, luckily, this year would be a repeat. Of the heat of course, not the singularity. Well and truly shattered from the ride the day before, I only put in a short 30 miles around the circuit and surrounding areas. 

Sunday was race day, and as I nervously waited at the start line, big black clouds with familiar wispy trails of rain approached the bottom end of the circuit. A dirty race it would turn out to be as on the high side of the course the sun welcomed the riders whilst at the lower side the clouds pelted us with hail and rain and demanded that we leave its little patch of land. Nevertheless, the majority of the field finished, albeit with mud-specked faces and bikes.

The race started fast, as races do, to establish the early heir-achy of tractors, smart men and stragglers. I followed a few dangerous moves, but saved myself for the first ascent of the 1.5mile finishing hill. Last year, the race split in two here and it never came back together. This year, I was making sure that if this occurred again, I would be on the right side of the split. However, no determined attacks came after the prime sprints so half way through the race it became apparent it would come down to a bunch gallop.

A few more dangerous attacks happened on the downhills which I happily chased down with a tuck and a cadence of 200rpm. Second to last lap I followed the wheel of Mark Perry as he made his way through the bunch up the hill for the prime. With 300m to go I popped of the front, passed the lone escapee and got myself a tenner in the prime. Half heartedly I pushed on to cause some sort of break but everything was back together on the flat. I then sat it and at the bottom of the last hill was positioned comfortably 5-10 places back. Half way up the pace slowed down dramatically, caused myself to be swamped by the less tactically-astute riders. At this point, Nathan Wilson of Wilson Wheels jumped off the front and quickly got himself a gap. Nick Barnes, of Zepnat, followed soon after. Me, starting to panic, only managed to get free once the pace picked up with 500 metres to go as the bunch started to sprint. I ground myself towards the front and put in a huge effort to try and at least get second. I however had to settle for 4th, with Nick getting 3rd and wolfpack member Will coming in 7th. Not a bad race but I went away with the feeling I could have done better. 

Next race- Tockwith 

Editorial Note- Congratulations to local rider Joe Moses for provisionally winning the IOM Youth Tour (Junior) stage race! Those sprints we do up Embsay Moor must be doing you good!