Cycle Show 2008

I was working at the Cycle Show in Earls Court, London Last week building the official test track on behalf of the CTC. it took about 30 seconds to ride around and dosen't look as big as it actually was from this photo!

Dusk Til Dawn 2008

What a nightmare! The Thetford rain gods were making up for lost time as to date every DTD race has been dry as a bone... The rain started at 6pm and didn't let up until about 1:00am so pretty for pretty much the whole race it was tipping it down...

the official report is here but suffice to say it was very muddy (like grinding paste) and for my first Solo effort felt like an initiation from hell..



After a fast rolling start and a few laps of trying to force myself to ride at under 130bpm my HR monitor finally stopped bleeping... Had it broken? no, but I had somehow got my heart rate out of the aerobic zone. Then the long slog began. riders were dropping out thick and fast but I managed to do my planned 4 laps (about 4 hours!) before stopping for top up food and bottles. Was Duncan about to pass me? thats all I could think, even as killer flew past as part of his pairing with Niki and told me I was in the top 20...

Perhaps Duncan was saving himself for the last few laps? I need more of a gap so got to keep on pressing on - this was all I could think (apart from the godawful song in my head that niki had been singing on the trip up - I kissed a girl and I liked it... ARGHHH!!!)



after 6 laps I was starting to feel awfully tired - my legs were fine but my mind was wandering and keeping up speed was more of a challenge. Suddenly the bleeping returned! but this time it was cos I was going to slow! then, crash! ouch that hurt! better take some painlkillers... (are they allowed?) By lap 7 I was struggling to keep awake and my reserves of caffine gels were running low. It one point I had one of those "microsleeps" and that was enough to scare me into waking up a bit. One more quick stop for food - who is that in the tent?? Its Duncan and he looks knackered.

now its the final lap and suddenly I feel like my legs are fresh again, its getting light and I am on a final charge for positions I get around the course with the clock showing 1 minute to go before the 12 hours are up. Circling in the finish straight I'm not sure whether to cross the line - I don't want to do another lap! Everyone is shouting for me to cross and telling me that I wont have to do another lap if I don't want to but I don't believe them! lol seems crazy but I wait until the next rider is coming down the finish straight before crossing the line in 11th out of 170 starting solo riders. That's enough of this solo malarky for now...



Duncan finished well up the placings in 25th place out of 170 solo riders
Niki and Killer were a respectable 8th out of 14 in the mixed teams especially when you consider Killer wasn't well
Ivor and Mark were 55th/83 in the mens pairs
full results

New Brighton Park Cyclocross

On Sunday morning, Paul and I represented Fig Rolls Racing in the Wedgewood Cross Classic here in Vancouver. It was a great venue, with all the fun of up and downhill 180 degree switchbacks, hurdles, stairs, sand, mud, and wet tree roots. Paul and I raced in the beginner category... I got 5th place and Paul got 10th. I think this might become a regular thing!

Can you spot two Fig Rolls? 

Thanks to Angie for the photos (more here) and Lina who's idea it all was... though she rides for another team... shock, horror.

FIG ROLLS Race the Cumberland MOMAR!

Vancouver Island Fig Rolls representatives Marc and Joan sent in this report from the Cumberland MOMAR:

In this event Joan and Marc race a 45km adventure race made up of kayaking, orienteering, mountain biking and trail running. Here's a few pics courtesy of Nikki and a quick blurb on each one. In the wee early hours of Sept 27 we loaded the Kayak with the help of Kevin and Nikki, and headed out for Comox lake to the start our first MOMAR (Mind Over Mountain Adventure Race). It was here at the start line we were introduced to the kayak course and are given a general course map.

The first stage is a 9km paddle in a non-oar locked vessel i.e. kayak, surf-ski, out rigger or even a canoe. With over 270 racers the start line was a little crowded. We picked a great position and got off to a good start. 

Were not in this pic we were moving tooo fast.......

Joan and Myself in Fig One.

After the paddle we received our orienteering map.

Here we are riding some of the extreme XC of Cumberland.

Joan riding Sir Orick

At the end of the bike stage we received our trekking map and were off and running.

More running, well contemplating the next uphill run.

Even More running! I know it doesn't look like we were, but Believe me we were running.

After a lengthy run we were back on the bikes for short ride to the last transition and short run through Cumberland looking for  the final hidden check points. My legs were sooooo sore!

Coming into the finish line.

We finished 26th overall, just six minutes off the mixed podium with a time of 5 hours 37 mins. Looking forward to next year's race!

3 Peaks - The photos

Before...After...

2008 3 Peaks Cyclo Cross

This weekend will see Fig Rolls Racing being represented at the 46th 3 Peaks Cyclo Cross race by Tony. Following the cancellation of last years event due to Foot & Mouth control measures and getting over the shock of having been moved to the 60-69 age category, despite not being 60 until 2 months after the race ;) , he has been training hard all year and Dad now sounds pretty motivated to do this.

Look out for the Fig Rolls jersey on the hills, and if you are watching then give him a big shout of encouragement.

Chickens

Following SITS (report to follow eventually) where I managed to bust my knee well enough that I still haven't ridden a bike after a month, the most important news in the Lea household is that we have got some chickens. We now have a ready supply of eggs and comedy. This afternoon was spent trying to catch the chickens to cut their feathers so they won't fly away. Needless to say, we got one of 3, and the other 2 spent all afternoon running round the garden eating worms, until we managed to herd them back into their house ready for another go tomorrow...

St Ives CC MTB Race Festival 2008

For once the rain held off. Torrential downpours were predicted but the course was dry and dusty, a short lap - only 12 minutes but little rest. I was off first closely followed by Niki and John who got a flying start until he hit a tree! Whilst I chased the leaders John and Niki swapped positions a number of times as John fell off again and Niki got lost twice...

Niki managed to hold off a strong challenge from Jennie Middlehurst in the first few laps but by the end of the race had a lead of over 4 minutes. John finished a couple of minutes behind Niki after 4 laps - 5th in the grand vets category.

I managed to keep up with the chase pack until lap 6 but as the pace picked up they dropped me on the climb so I ended up 5th - not too bad seeing that 30 minutes before the race I was only going to watch...

Niki rounded off the day well by winning the number board prize draw for the bike prize supplied by Grafham Cycling!

full results

BC Bike Race, the Whole Gory Story

Back in July, Nikki (That's Nikki - Canada, not to be confused with Niki - UK) and I (Andrew) rode in the BC Bike Race. Now, for your reading pleasure I am proud to present a Nikki's full account of the events that took place.

“Journey to the end of the BC Bike Race”, or “Wow, doesn’t my ass hurt now”

It’s been about six weeks now, and that changes things. I remember the heat when I think about it, and how debilitating it was, but I can no longer imagine it. I do remember vividly staring up at the snow on the top of the mountains as we came through Cowichan Valley, and willing myself to feel the cold of the snow to try to counter the heat pounding at me from that bright yellow sun. And I remember how sore parts of me were, but again, I can no longer imagine it.
I know it’s been a while, and that things have altered in my memory, because when someone asks me how the race was I hear myself reply without any hesitation - “way awesome”. In the days and even first few weeks my reply was a lot more hesitant, hedged with memories of suffering. I am grateful to all the people that followed us along the race by way of the website, and am glad I was unaware of that at the time in case it made me even more nervous. I was riding my bicycle for something to do, then rode it out of fear and to battle the winter blues. Now I love to ride my bicycle, and am looking for more challenges.

I don’t know quite why suffering attracts me, but epics are always more memorable and seem to be worth the effort of getting off the couch while normal adventures do not. The BC Bike Race definitely counted as an epic, and the couch and the cat that resides there have been very lonely for about 6 months. I haven’t returned to the couch yet, and the cat is getting rather angry about that. But the cat loves it when I sit at the computer typing, so this story is dedicated to Lord Kelvin, the lovely black cat that tolerates me.

Once upon a time, in a land far away, on an island on the west coast of Canada lived a girl named Liz. Liz wanted to race her mountain bike, so she called her friend named Marc. He phoned his wife named Nikki, and that is me. I told Liz the race sounds nuts, and I’ve never raced anything, much less my mountain bike. In fact, I mountain bike quite badly, having acquired a mountain bike less than 3 years ago and being quite short on natural talent. But, over the next few weeks, the idea fermented like bad wine, and finally bubbled over. In the middle of December, I signed up for the BC Bike Race.

Liz had been battling a knee injury for most of the previous year, and unfortunately had to change her mind about racing. Lucky for me, I have a friend named Andy with a fondness for suffering and an amazing ability to ride a mountain bike. And the patience of an elephant.

Since I didn’t really know how to ride a mountain bike and was not in very good shape, it seemed like a great idea to abandon the housework and head to the trails. My work schedule means I have a lot of weekdays off and work a lot of weekends. I skate-skied by myself and with Marc, and rode my mountain bike through the mud and snow with Matilda the dog. Liz and I learned to clip into our pedals on mountain bikes, which was entertaining among the chaos of wet roots and mud, and I started trying to wear less armour. The knee pads came off, then went back on. And later came off again. Blue spots started appearing in various areas on me, and Jezebel the bicycle kept falling over. The bicycle and I made a lot of trips to Simon’s cycles for repairs and advice. And I ate a lot. In fact, for a while I was suspicious that there was a tenant somewhere in the house, or maybe a neighbour that kept raiding the fridge. Eating is fun. Shopping is not really fun for me, but a pair of shorts and a T shirt weren’t going to cut it for seven days on a bicycle, so I slowly started to accumulate clothes. And bought bike shoes. And then - Sir Ullrick von Lichtenstein came along. A lovely blue and red Stumpjumper, weighing in about 10 lbs lighter than Jezebel.

So I went biking. Road biking, mountain biking, bike commuting to work, spin class biking.... and some more biking. Matilda started to look rather trim.

In February there was a ski race, and another one in March. April had a Snow to Surf team race. May I rode my first mountain bike race. I had ridden Sir Ullrick three times. He had tires that won’t grip on wet surfaces, was light, jumpy and agile. Hammerfest in Parksville, in the rain, was really fun. I developed a lot of funny blue spots that lasted for weeks, but I don’t remember getting them. I do remember falling a lot, and since there were three laps I had the opportunity to fall on any one obstacle up to three times. I came last in expert category, which was pretty cool for my first bike race. The second race was going to be a bit of a bear if rumours were to be believed.

The winter was long and solitary, although never lonely. Few people are foolish enough to ride over roots and logs in February mud, and the rain just didn’t want to stop. Local friends offered encouragement, and the group had gotten larger, even though we weren’t on the same trails. There was myself, Sir Ullrick, Matilda the dog, Marc on Mephistopheles on weekends, Andy in Vancouver on The Orange Bike, Jack in Vancouver who is partnering with Andy for the TransRockies in August, and Paul in Vancouver for moral support and instigation. And before I knew it there were other island riders coming out of hibernation and keeping the energy flowing.

In May we had the official Fig Rolls Team training week in Penticton, where Andy, Jack and Paul joined Marc and I for a week of heat, biking and climbing. The heat was excellent, since the west coast was still cold and persistently wet, and turned out to be the only hot weather we encountered prior to the race. Andy came to Comox two weeks later for another week of training, and we spent a lot of time on bicycles that week too.

And then, with only a bit of time to go, in the middle of what I was hoping would be my final training push, I was suddenly bone tired. So I pedalled around town and didn’t do very much. It was still ten degrees Celsius and raining. My goal had changed - rather than just finishing, I did’t want to be the last one every single day. I hoped I could manage that, but I was a bit worried that now I’m aiming too high.

Day 0: Morning dawned clear and dry, and seemed several months too early. Registration day.

Day 1. Sunny and clear, forecasting a high of 33 degrees Celsius, with not a breath of wind. The start line is a sea of far too athletic people in bright clothes with fancy bikes. Shawnigan Lake school is gorgeous, and Marc and Matilda are very excited. My hands sweat cold now as I remember the tension in the air that morning, and we stood in the start line for an eternity. I almost ducked under the barriers to become a bystander, cheering safely from the shade. Suddenly the bicycles in front of me move away and we’re on our bikes and riding along. It feels great to be moving, released. The line of riders weaves along the curves in the road like a giant flowing stream, and loops along the road to a hay field. Unfortunately farmers cut hay when the sun shines, and an epidemic of mechanicals sidelines scores of people within minutes of entering the field. The hay hops on chains, loops around chainrings and twirls in deraillers. Riders scatter beside the flowing pack to repair what can be done, and we loop back to the start gate, back along the road and back through the hayfield, through the gate and finally we’re set free on the trail. There’s a great fern forest followed by fire road, and a fun rock face full of loose gravel. I decide to follow Andy down the rock, and am treated to a most amazing visual chaos of people inches away from me walking their bicycles down the rock as I ride a fast, steep, sketchy downhill chute followed by loose dirt and sharp corners.

Andy and I waiting in the start line

Riding in a group is definitely an experience. I open a cliffshot package just as the rider ahead of me is suddenly brought up solid by a root. I stop abruptly, squirting chocolate goo all over my glove, which somehow ended up all over my face. Not the easiest texture to get off while your hands are busy navigating a bike through the woods. Thanks to the photographers who refrained from taking that photo!

Eventually the trail leads uphill through a windless oven of a logging road, then a lovely shady forest which gives way to a steep technical grind up a sunny slope. I bake. After about a million miles we ride through a forest to the aid station and arrive five minutes after all the water at the station has been consumed. We decide to wait for water, since we have 40 km and 6 more days left to go. After about 45 minutes or so we head down the trail with fresh water in our packs. Despite being a logging road, the next 20 km did not disappoint. Exhilarating doesn’t describe the rocket speed as we scream downhill, surfing around corners at speeds up to 55 km/hr, with dust so thick I can’t see the road ahead of me. If I sneak up on Andy’s tire I can see the road ahead of him, and know what’s coming. The last 20 km of flat terrain ended eventually at the giant inflatable finish line. We collapse in the shade, eventually clean our bikes, shower, change and eat. Marc and Matilda and Jack are there. We’re in 25th place out of 33 in our category, which is like icing on the cake, because I’d forgotten we were actually in a race.

Day 2. Hot. Sunny. I am asked what my race strategy for the day is, and am unprepared for such a technical racing question, especially given my long and illustrious racing career. I decide my strategy is based on not developing heat stroke and ending up in the medical tent. Throughout the day we develop more and more creative strategies, such as “keep breathing” and “don’t think of how much your butt hurts”. I soak my jersey in the sink, then stand in the shade near the start with everyone else. No one wants to get into the start gate because it’s in the sun, and at 8:30 am it’s already unbearably hot. Eventually the race organizers manage to herd everyone inside, and we’re off again. Today delivers 125 km of hot logging road, and the time passes as we chat and pedal. The leaders made a giant pelleton of riders, blasting along to the finish. Us frumpies chatted. And eventually we’re there, covered in road dust from head to toe, I can still taste the dust. Marc and Matilda greet us in Port Alberni, where the daytime high apparently hit 43 degrees Celsius. A Mexican rider wore long pants and a jacket, and I can only hope that he warmed up through the day and didn’t need to dig out his gloves.

Day 3. Hot. Again. A great trail out of Port Alberni followed by a very long and hot commute to Cumberland and my backyard. Several creek crossings save the day, especially the one where I am up to my waist in snow meltwater. The last climb to the singletrack cries spontaneous combustion. The singletrack is a new trail. Spongy and hilly, it demands both control and power, neither of which I have left. Jeremy Grasby, the man behind the trail, is a very sadistic human. I try my best not to blow up. Andy does some sketchy hill climbing, trying to overtake without tumbling down the embankment beside the trail. These new trails are followed by one of my favourite trails called “Short and Curly”, and the curls are indeed lovely as we head through shady forest, then cut past the race volunteers to submerse ourselves in Perseverence Creek. We head down Bronco’s Perseverence at top speed, and rocket through the rest of my backyard towards yet another finish line, a shower, change of clothes and another giant meal. Joan and Marc are there to cheer us in.

Despite the heat and the 3 days of pain, we’re obviously still in fine form...

Andy enjoying a beverage.

Day 4. It’s 4:30 in the morning, an entirely uncivilized time for my eyes to be opening. The rubber chicken sqawks it’s death cry into the megaphone that is the alarm clock and we crawl to the buses. I sleep, get on the ferry, sleep, get on the bus and sleep. The view is spectacular, despite the fact I’m awake for only brief moments. In Earl’s Cove we get off the ferry and on to our bicycles, then head out of the start line at 11 am on another lovely hot day. The beautiful green forest is a tropical steam of windless air. Up and down hills, over bridges, ramps, along more awesome trails and eventually we’re once again at the finish line. We’re in 22 nd place. I’m not sure I care, but it’s nice to know. We collapse yet again.

Day 5. Surprise, surprise, the sun is shining and it’s hot. My legs feel very odd, sort of thick and spongy, not painful anymore although they certainly have been. More forest, more steam, and lots and lots of uphill. Then, suddenly, the work is done as the trail turns down a soft sandy chute which spins and turns, sending us over ramps and surfing around corners on a steep downhill slope. We giggle like maniacs. The trail turns into the forest and we ride along steep embankments and over bridges with dire consequences of mistakes. I look at my bike computer and realize we have only 5 km left, and for the first time in the race wish that there was more rather than a lot less. Andy hops a giant log at an impossible angle, and I have to lift the bike off his foot so he can extricate himself. After 5 hours of hard riding we’re laughing. When it ends I realize I’m exhausted and hungry, but today was most definitely a highlight. We’re in 20th place, and I’m happy and feel great.

Day 6. I couldn’t sleep. The airconditioner from the nearby Aquacenter was droning in my head all night and I kept waking up. I’m allergic to the grass we’re sleeping on and my face puffed up overnight like wierd bread dough. I can’t face breakfast, and force fruit down. The rubber chicken woke up an hour too early to utter it’s deathcry, and I couldn’t get back to sleep. I nap in my riding clothes after breakfast, and line up in the start gate with no enthusiasm. This is the day I’ve been scared of. Squamish. Where they combined two epic mountain bike race trails to make the ‘ultimate’ 70 km race loop. We have moved up in the start gate, and the first 15 minutes definitely have more competition as riders jockey for position. Uphill leads to Tracks from Hell, where a boardwalk carries us through black swamp with brilliant green skunk cabbage, then more uphill to Rob’s Corners, a lovely section of bermed curves and corners. During the uphill Andy has been nicknamed “the Machine” as he kills extra time by repeating the occasional uphill stunt and climbs every hill.

By this time in the race we are riding with familiar faces as we pass and are passed depending on the current challenge. The Mexicans - fun, happy and always cheering, are riding as hard as they can while making it look like a Sunday outing. There are racers from Whitehorse that train on ice roads in the winter, and a group from the UK that humble me on every climb and then egg me on to ride the nasty downhilly bits. The announcer team stays within earshot for days, no matter how hard we try. “ROCK.....STICK..CORNER” echoes along the trail. As it gets steeper we lose them for a while, but we’re intrigued - is there a way to say “rock, root, corner, steep down with 3 rocks and 4 big roots, around a corner, over a tree and 2 more rocks on the next downhill” all within 15 seconds as you blast over them? Or is there a shorthand version? “rock-roo-co-downro-ro-rock-roo-roo-roo-root corner”? or would they compile the list? “rock, root, corners-2, down-2 rocks-3 roots-4-2 tree-1”???

Squamish starts to turn into a rather lengthy adventure before we get to the first aid station. We eat and stash food in our jerseys and start up 9 mile hill. It’s terribly misnamed, as it is actually a gazillion miles long, but then maybe it’s actually 9 miles high, I’m not sure. The downhill is rewardingly fun, but I’m getting really tired. The team from Endless Biking hasn’t broken a sweat yet, and they cheer us on when we pass them as they sit and enjoy the view, then smoke past us and wait somewhere down the road for their teamates to catch up. I took a basic technique course from them two years ago, and hope I am doing their instruction justice. Andy follows one of their riders through a jungle of walking cyclists down a steep mountain slope, ducking and dodging to get past trees and rocks and people, riding up the sides of the trail and hopping back down at amazing speed. He ends up completely exhilerated from the visual overload. We get to the aid station again, and I wander almost aimlessly from oranges to bars, wondering why all the riders around me are rushing. Back on our bikes, more uphill and more trails for what seems like a very long time. Eventually I start to crack, but have no reason to stop. My legs spin onwards, my body moving with the bike over dips and around corners. Through the brainfog I see another hill, and I truly don’t care that there’s another uphill. When we get to the finish line I find the effort of stopping overwhelming, and Andy looks a little puzzled as I stand in the finish gate and start sobbing like a three year old. I pull it together before the paparazzi hit, make it to the shower, and then we eat again. I manage about 3 platefulls of amazing food. Marc and Matilda are there that night, and we go to the pub for a sudsy drink and a snack. I focus on tomorrow, and start to anticipate a great day of riding. My goal is to keep going without cracking under the pressure. And hopefully to finish the race. We’re still in 20th place, but I really don’t care.


Day 7:

Start line day 7

....and....we’re off!

I slept like a log, never registering the air conditioner. Coffee tastes great and I eat a huge breakfast, then we pile into the buses to go to Whistler. Marc and Matilda cheer as we ride away, tires humming on pavement like a giant swarm of bees. The uphill wasn’t long in coming, and we climb immediately for about a decade. When it turns alpine we head down steep downhill switchbacks and then into a swoopy flowing delight of a trail, cross a bridge and then - uphill. For a long time we climb, occasional downhill teasers thrown into another giant of an uphill. The whole body fatigue is amazing, and today my mind watches detached and focused while my body struggles. My legs spin along at their accustomed pace, but anytime I need power they cramp and threaten to explode. Light flowing trail blends almost effortlessly, but any additional energy is getting very hard to find.

A River eventually runs through it, and ramps and bridges challenge balance after days of riding. Andy rides the super sketchy bridge high above the rapid, while I (fortunately perhaps) am blocked by another rider walking up the ramp and frantically grab a tree to avoid a tumble over the side of the ramp and then walk across the great bridge. The adrenalin would have been welcome, but the fall would have been disastrous. The second aid station cut-off time is close, and I find unknown energy to climb a steep rooty trail. I tell myself that I don’t care if they cut us off, I know how far we’ve come and I have done my best, but I ride faster and faster in case we can still make it. At the aid station they’ve extended the cut-off, which we would have missed by mere minutes. Seventy-six riders are still behind us. We have 5 km to go, and I nod to Marc as I try not to gag on a raspberry cliffshot. Not my flavour apparently, but it needs to stay down. Fresh orange to hide the flavour, then back on the bikes.

The trail is easy, but seems like a very long 5 km. At some point we ride into a building, then run up the stairs to cross above the road and head back down. Gently winding trails mix with cross country, and we hop among short trail sections until it all ends abruptly with a downhill run to the giant inflatable Finish. I sprint to catch the team in front, and am beside the other racer and gaining when my chain surrenders and wraps itself into a pretzel with my derailler in tow. I coast, then run across the line with my bicycle.

As far back as I can remember I have woken up in a tent, had breakfast, then ridden my bicycle all day until a giant black finish line allowed me to stop. Suddenly I am standing beside my bicycle holding a T shirt and a pound of coffee, feeling surreal and unconnected to reality. Marc clicks photos, which show us looking puzzled as we stare at the coffee. We’re still in 20th place, but I no longer know what that means.

mmmmm.... coffee

I think I need to talk to the mechanics at Simon’s again...

Within minutes I am cold, and over the next few hours I develop a fever and an impressive chest cold. The final banquet is on the top of the mountain, but the amazing view has a hard time competing with the images of the last 7 days. The food is phenomenal. That night we stay at Liz’s place in Whistler, and the next day we drive home.

Four days after the race Andy left for Europe to ride his bicycle across the Pyrenees and the Alps, returning in time to ride the TransRockies with Jack. Initially I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to see my bike again, but over the next few weeks kept going out and riding out of habit. At the beginning it was wonderful to ride as slowly as I wanted to. I would even stop and sit comfortably on a log in the middle of the woods and listen to the birds. Lately I’ve been going a lot faster.

The cat has gotten bored and left, and my tea is cold. So I think I’ll have to end this story and head off to the trails. I wonder how a 24 hour race would feel?

TransRockies 2008

Jacek and I won TransRockies. Well, we won 35th place. There were 100 men's teams, and we rode seven days, 550km, and 17623m of altitude according to my commemorative T-shirt. The whole thing was really quite awesome and you should all come over here and do it... and BC Bike Race.

This is the end, my friend.

There is a lengthy ramble about this summer's riding here. I'd get a cup of tea ready first if plan to tackle it.

London Triathlon 2008

Joe and Niki took part in the London Triathlon in the Docklands this weekend. Yes - we swam in the docks and they stank!

Joe was off first and after a nervous (Joe hadnt done any swimming since April!) start completed a decent sub 17 minute swim time. Next was the Bike laps, the first of which was done in 17 minutes - 11th fastest time/1405 competitors. then, typically for 2008, he got a puncture! after a quick change of tube he was underway again but the second lap time was up to 23 mins. Finally it was the run, stomach cramps held him up on the first lap but he settled down to a good pace and finished the second lap in a decent time.

1 hour 25 minutes, Sprint Distance = half olympic, total put Joe in 247th place and top 18% overall - not bad for a first attempt!

Niki was next to set off beating Joe's swim time by 4 seconds - phew! and then on to the bike for some typically consistent lap times @21 minutes each. Finally she started the run with each lap taking 13 minutes. total time = 1 hour 30 minutes and 77th which was top 11% - not bad at all.

Olympic distance next year?

Midlands XC Round 3

"Thetford with more hills"

This was the description of the course at the 3rd Round of the Midlands XC series which also doubled up as the Regional Championships.

Niki's race was up first, aftr a fast start which saw all the ladies categories go off together, Niki put in some consistent lap times to finish 3rd by just 17 seconds from fellow Masters rider Theresa Jackson who faded slightly on the last lap. I bet Niki wishes she didnt waste so much time waving to us all now!



Next up were Joe and Matthew (What kit is that!).



Another fast start, too fast for Joe who crashed into a tree knocking his front brake out of alighnment an meaning he had to ride the rest of the race with the brake 1/4 on! At least there were no punctures this time...

Matthew produced some consistent lap times to finish 41st out of 49 and joe ended up 23rd bagging some national ranking points to boot.



Both were knackered at the end of a long hard race!


Results

Niki rides the Singletrack at Thetford

More Dark Side....

Off like a rocket.... well the rest of the field in the 30 minute race were. I was stuck trying to clip in to stupid one sided pedals... anyway, first dark side race at Milton keynes was not off to the best start.

A bit of a gap developed in the 50 rider field between my group and the leaders - no problem, ill just jump accross like they do in the tour.... LOL not a chance, 5 laps and later and im still doing all the work whilst the rest of my group sit behind.

This is stupid... I'm stupid! why not sit at the back like they are??? Good idea, lets ease up... oh, no one wants to overtake me, they are just weaving about the road behind in my slipstream, meanwhile the leading group are extending their lead.... Bloody tactics!

I have had enough, i'm sitting right up and letting them past... thats better i can sit at the back and recover. Except they keep sprinting from the sharp corners that i don't like forcing me to go flat out to keep in the group..

At last some respite. they are slowing up to fight over 15th place. a few laps to recover....

The Bell! one lap to go, the speed is immense, last straight before the 180 degree turn on the mini roundabout, someone goes past, i'm on their wheel and past the group sprinting it out. 18th I think... not too bad then? I need a few cool down laps to recover....

fun? no, good speed training, yes! not that it will help much at Dusk til Dawn. ;0)

BC Bike Race 2008

This Friday, Fig Rolls Racing Canadian representatives Andrew (me) and Nikki finished "the ultimate singletrack experience" of the BC Bike Race. The BCBR is a 7 day stage race, up Vancouver Island, over onto the mainland (with help from a boat), back down the coast, and then up to Whistler (with the help of a bus) .

Look, I got some free coffee.

There will hopefully be riding pictures to look at later, and perhaps even some real details of what it was like... but for now let's just say we managed to avoid such obstacles as heat exhaustion (not ending up with all the other victims in the medical tent each night), broken bones, broken rear mechs (15 on the first day alone) , broken frames (3 during the race), and broken spirits to roll in 20th in the mixed category out of 32 teams. It rocked. Marc's photos are here.

5th in the mixed team @ Mountain Mayhem

Despite bad conditions, the Fig Rolls mixed team of Niki, Matthew, Duncan, Joe and Killer managed to bag 5th place out of 144 teams.

At 2pm the course had started damp but 100% rideable. During the afternoon the course was starting to dry out but by 11pm it was starting to rain heavily and continued until about 3am. By this point only about 50% was rideable and lap times had more than doubled...

The course slowly went from thick mud to semi dry and by 10am on Sunday was starting to get fast. Some of the fastest laps were posted at this time.

Unfortunately the wind was getting up and a sudden blast destroyed the Fig Rolls Camp!

Gazebo or no Gazebo the Fig Rolls were not for stopping and despite 6th place getting within 6 mins we held on to the finish.

Next up Sleepless in the Saddle where Matt and Duncan are going solo!

Do Fig Rolls Float?

It looks like we will find out this weekend as the Mountain Mayhem 24 hour race is looking to be a very wet one...

The Rat Race

I (Andrew) couldn't make it... but here's what Paul has to say about the Rat Race at Robert's Creek last weekend, where Fig Rolls were in action:

After all that training (!?) in Penticton, this weekend it was finally time for Fig Rolls Racing Canada to actually go racing. We'll try not to make a habit of it. With Andrew having had to fly back to the UK at short notice, it was left to Jacek and I to fly the flag at the Sunshine Coast Rat Race. This is an enduro-style event, 47km with 1500m of climbing in one big loop.

After the usual (mis)adventures missing ferries and searching for campgrounds in the dark, we finally made it to the event as the day started to really heat up, causing us head for shade and try to stay hydrated whilst we waited for the start:

We started fairly far back in the 300 rider mass start, and didn't see much for dust for a while! After a singletrack climb the race came out onto a fire-road climb and began to spread out. That was the last I saw of Jacek for the next 3 hours.

The race is billed as 50% fire road, 40% doubletrack and 10% singletrack. However, it turns out their definition of doubletrack is a bit warped and it was more like 50% fire road, 50% techical singletrack. By about the 2/3 mark I was really kicking myself for not bringing the full suspension rig. Other than that my race went really well, I paced well and managed to push all race, slowly picking up places all the way through. It was occassionally very obvious that this was not our usual north-shore freeriding crowd as any ladder bridge narrower than about 2 feet had half the racers off and running, causing much amusement among those of us not taking the race too seriously. The course ended with a second run down "The Black Tower" and amazing downhill bermed singletrack that would make a great DH course in some places. I took it on the ragged edge and only just got away with it as my legs were cramping pretty badly by then!

We didn't bring a cheering section, so there are no photos of the race, but the aftermath looked something like this:

We finished 70th and 92nd in 3:08:12 and 3:16:46, 23rd and 29th in our category (Masters! makes me feel old). I was pretty happy with that, and plan to retire from racing until the Triple Crown in July!

Fig Rolls Canada - Spring Training Camp

It's all been rather silent from this side of the water the past few months. That's because we've been skiing and ignoring our bikes. You could call it cross-training. But do not fear... spring has arrived in BC and the Canadian wing of Fig Rolls Racing has exploded into a frenzy of, err, more cross-training.

Marc, Nikki, Mathilda (the dog) and myself who constitute the Fig Rolls BC Bike Race team drove out to Penticton for five days of intensive riding, rock climbing, and eating. Penticton is in the interior of BC for those who like to picture where things are, and that means it's hot and dry. On the other hand, Vancouver is currently warm and moist so you can see the appeal of going to Penticton. It is entirely unknown what the benefit of climbing is to mountain bike racing, but it's got to help, right?

The BC Bike Race Fig Rollers.

The trails around Penticton are fast, smooth and dusty, which made them ideal for getting some XC action going. Of course you can't take a bunch of riders from Vancouver somewhere and expect them to behave. It all counts as "technical cross-country" though, because I was clipped in.


Each day finished off with a few hours climbing edgy, finger-shredding stuff of Skaha Bluffs and walking off into the sunset.

You can't really complain eh?

Once the remaining Canadian Fig Rolls Paul and Jacek arrived on Friday, we had to step the cross-training up a notch. Jacek and I form the Fig Rolls TransRockies team, so after going for a bit of an XC ride on Saturday... thinking that went quite well, going climbing, and then eating a lot we decided we could happily justify a shuttle ride on "Code 4". It is essential to be able to handle trail obstacles when XC racing, so everyone got ther huck on.

Nikki interpreting the trail.

Me, falling off something.

Other cross-training activities that we got involved in were fighting a small forest fire (we won) and dealing with a suicidal snake that hurled itself off the route Paul was climbing. If anyone has any more suggestions for activities I should plan for the team... please write in. It's going to be a big season for the Canadian Fig Rolls. Between us we've entered four (count 'em) races. Imagine that. Nikki's even already done once race already, which is a bit keen. Stay tuned to see how the story unfolds.

Paul wrote stuff about the weekend (including nice pictures) here.

SSUK08 - UK Singlespeed Championship

May Bank Holiday in Scotland. What do those words conjour up? Correct - rain.

After a road trip via the Yorkshire Dales and Lake District, with a quick bit of biking in Grizedale forest, Claire and I rocked up at Drumlanrig Castle for SSUK08.

Wow. what a venue. The castle and grounds are amazing - the weather was even nice and warm on Saturday. We spent the day wandering around the castle grounds and finished it by lounging in the sun drinking Batemans finest ales.




The pre race preparation was ably assisted by the organisers providing Haggis, neeps and tatties for everyone, as well as a bar and ceilidh band - and Penny Farthing racing.






Race morning arrived and brought rain with it. At first it was not too bad, but as it got heavier the fears of big wet roots on the course grew greater. I made the (as it turns out brilliant)decision to switch to Bontrager mud tyres to have some hope of staying upright, and then it properly started chucking it down. I made my way to the start clutching my cup of tea (i am so rock and roll) and the race began.

Tea anyone?



We then stopped at a field ready for the 'Le Mans' start. All the bikes were laid down, and then jumbled up in piles of 69ers, on-ones, pink ones etc.
69ers are SO 2007!


When Kenny had downed his beer, the race began and we were all off and pushing slowly up the first muddy climb. The course was brilliant if a little wet. Technical muddy and rooty singletrack with only a few horrible climbs, but as it was singlespeed it didn't matter if I got off and pushed. Another great feature that should be more widely introduced was the beer shortcut. This took a good 5-10mins out of the course for the price of downing a tin of beer - a good trade.



All in, possibly one of the best events I have attended. Mega relaxed, brilliant course and the prizes were all awarded totally randomly - the most pleased was the bloke with the 'Oldest Orange' who won a new p7 frame to replace his '94 p7. Nice - but my bike is older;)

More photos here...

Yorkshire Dales Epic

Whilst Joe and Niki were off riding Enduro 6, my Dad and I went up to Swaledale for some 'training' for the 3 peaks cyclo cross later in the year. We Had our maps and a route from MBR and we were all set.


After a few pints on Friday night, we were up and off about 10am for our 23 mile loop that would take in the highest pub in England, Tan Hill Inn, and some 'classic' moorland and rocky downhill. The ride was going well up to our luch stop at Tan Hill, where the landlady decided I should serve my own beer, as well as a couple of other customers and we were also treated to some George Formby style live music. Hmm.



After this, we set off on the moorland section. The MBR article had suggested this may be a little difficult to navigate at first. This was true, but we eventually found the trail. What the article seemed to completely omit though, was the fact that it was actually a bog and almost completely unrideable. This was not amusing, and combined with a couple of other hard to find junctions, seriously slowed us down. To cut a (very) long story short, we found ourselves at the top of Gunnerside Ghyll ready to descend at nearly 7pm! We then set off on the descent, only to realise that 6" full sus bikes might have been more helpful than my Fuel and Dads hardtail. Once past the stupid bits, it was a great descent, but this was then ruined by us not paying attention to the fact the bridleway cut back up the hill, and we went down to the footpath. Too knackered to retrace our steps, we went along the footpath, with stile after stile taking the last of our energy reserves. As the light faded, we found ourselves walking alongside the river on loose rocky ground, falling over regularly. At this point I had a bit of a paddy and started to get a little concerned. However, we made it into Gunnerside just as the last light went, so it was on with the emergency blinky lights for a 3mile dash back to the B&B. We eventually made it back at 10pm! Needless to say, neither of us will ever buy MBR again, nor are we convinced that they ever actually rode the route.

An epic day with several things learnt, however Dad is now very familiar with the pushing style required for a lot of the three peaks, and perhaps has been given the boost he needs to do more training? Have a look at the photos to see how it went from nice and cheery to a bit worried:)