World Masters Cross Champs....
Morning gents… The following is my take on the weekend just gone. It serves to illustrate what a brilliant event it was and to inspire you for next year.
Well now…. Where to start!
It was based at the Belgian equivalent of ‘Centre Parks’ so the accommodation was very close to the course and was of good quality. Entry on the line at a cost of €12. The course was fantastic and unlike anything I’ve ridden here in the UK. Fast single-track sections through forest with a long section of road through the start/finish and a mad plunge down a beach to the shoreline which our European cousins seem so fond of. 200m around the waters edge before taking to the trees again for more tight sinuous tracks. A couple of sand bars with varying entry speeds and a couple of man made stepped run ups forcing a dismount.
The trip over was a nightmare!! 11 hours to central Belgium is not fun. Up at first light for a recce of the course. 3 good laps and off to the digs for food and water. Back at the course I run around the forest taking photos of the other 2 racers waiting for my 3pm start time. This is far from ideal preparation!
5 mins to the off and I still have a number to pin on and my helpers are nowhere. People are being called forward! Shyte! I’m gonna miss it… The clothes are coming off and I’m dumping them somewhere obvious for them to find. I accost an English speaker to do my shoulder number. Neuf, Nine. Andrew Dilkes, Grand Britannia… I push my way through. Pushing seems to be compulsory here… Gridded at the back (randomly picked from a hat) surprise, surprise!! The race MC is waffling on in Flemish and then “less than 30 seconds” Now ‘that’ I understand… A few deep breaths and I’m thinking “’kin hell we’re well packed in here” “please clip in first time” and “if you just drift slightly to the left I’ll be through that gap”…
Silence………….
BANG!!
It’s picking up fast and I’m soon in the 12 following the wheels down the road. 20 secs gone and it’s HARD left on very soft tyres and a wet road and into the beach. bodies, sand and bikes all over the shop, people running, falling and trying to ride. We just need some razor wire and land mines for the carnage to be complete. I’m off and running pretty soon as I’m not heavy enough or carrying enough speed to get through. Go wide and make up a few places. Remount and stamp on it along the shore… Off the beach and into the trees and I’m constantly on the brakes waiting for people to clear the way. It’s frustrating as I’m quite fast through this stuff… Take people where possible and try to stay neat and tidy through the corners. The needles and tree debris is looser than the damp track worn into the floor. The bikes riding well shooting out of the corners even under my input and the deep section carbons have their first outing with the Dugast silks…. Mmmmm. Feels good. The heart is banging away at 180 beats, right on the money and I feel OK given the travelling and the mornings practise laps. The bike’s sliding and squirming about and I’m carrying as much speed as I dare through the forests. Things are settling and each person I come across is carefully sussed as to where best to “have them”. Some in the sand. Some in the single-track and some on the road. I’m making big efforts in the last sections of single-track to bridge to riders before the exposed road section and their draft is used to full effect before the beach sections where I’m running OK… I’ve even figured out how to hold the bike properly! It’s going well considering and the sand and stairs ain’t too bad given my lack of experience. 2 to go and I’m still with the French bloke I’ve been battling for the last 2 laps. I take him in the technical bits and he claws his way back on brute strength and my inability to locate and engage my feet into the pedals. This is really starting to tick me off and it’s costing me time. Off the beach again and were both running and I’m thinking “right, you’re gonna get it” at the next sand section which is short and I’m clearing each time… I’m readying myself and speeding up to get the run on him round the corner tight against the tree and drop the front wheel of the shelf and down toward the sand…
BOOM!! Ouch. I’ve somehow got what is a pretty easy bit wrong and have pitched it over the bars at a 'drop off' so I’ve come down hard into floor from height and I’m struggling… It takes me a few moments to figure out where I am, what I’ve just done and what I’m s’posed to be doing. I don’t feel too clever and my arm is causing me concern cos it doesn’t seem to be working properly. After a bit of flailing it about I’m pretty sure it’s not broken so it’s off with the sand filled glasses and emptying my mouth of the stuff and I’m off in hot pursuit of the riders that have just passed me. 11 in all have checked the results. Boooo :o(
The next half lap is a bit of a mental blur suffice to say it was a bit scruffy, too much speed into the corners, too much braking and too slow an exit speed, off line and generally sh*te. I’m settled by the time the road comes round and the bell is ringing frantically. I’m holding the lines again and the beach section is the best yet!! Approaching the section that had me off and I’m conscious not to back off. Into, through and out no problem… and on with the lap. Approaching the pits I can hear people shouting for a fellow Brit that must be closing me down so I’m even more focussed for the last few corners. He is not having me back this close to the line and the last 180 is nailed and it’s 50 metres of dirt now before the tarmac drag to the line. It’s nearly over so down through the gears it goes for one last big effort. The bloke that’s kicking back short of the finish is most displeased to find me doing him on the line but that’s racing. And relaaaaaax.………….. :o)
That was the most fun I’ve had on a bike in a long time…
A night out in Mol with Belgian beers and a steak followed by frites, mayonnaise and braadworst in Hoogerheide on the Sunday completed what was a brilliant weekend. You would not believe how fast the pro’s can ride a cross bike!! :oo
I have a sore shoulder and some very sore ribs, but a big grin every time I think about the race. Oh and the pleasure of telling you all about it whilst trying to avoid doing some very dull work!!
Ciao for now and see you around.
Andy
No comments:
Post a Comment