around home, bikes, event, GPS, MTB, UK

SSUK 2013

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Sometime ago I signed up for the returning (after a one year hiatus) national singlespeed event. I’m not really all that sure why – it was reasonably local & I think John was pleased to finally have a couple of riding buddies of the one ratio persuasion. Regardless, I pootled over to Swanage on a greyer-than-recently Saturday morning – stopping to drop off non-riding items at Mum’s cousin Pamela’s house (where I would stay for the weekend) in Poole.

The Saturday was a casual ride to have a look around the area. About a hundred like-minded nutters showed up near the Swanage pier. It’s quite odd to see so many singlespeeds on the English seafront. Singlespeeding still being relatively niche, there were all sorts of interesting & fancy bikes – a dozen or so fat bikes too. Not nearly as many singlespeed conversions (from geared mountain bikes) as I would have expected to see in NZ – I’m pretty sure the British spend so much more time & money on their bikes than Kiwis do (also bikes are more expensive in NZ) because they have so much time to do so when the weather is inclement.

We set off in one large group and after a few miles there was a vaguely organised (a continuing theme for the weekend) Le Mans start at the bottom of the very large climb (for singlespeeds at least, & most geared bikers I imagine) up to Nine Barrow Down. I struggled up, weaving in & out of all those walking & then spent ages on the ridge getting cold as the wind & drizzle came through and we waited for the stragglers & to find out where to go next. Off the ridge, there was a nice bit of trail around a golf course & then it was rather tedious fire road to the lunch stop. By the pub stop at lunch time in the sun I was a little/quite worn out from the week at work and really not in the mood to be social & to try break into well established groups of riding buddies – perhaps (probably) I was still mourning the loss of the proper challenging singletrack of two weeks prior. Also there had been talk of the event on Sunday being fifty miles (quite a distance with a solitary gear), so I thought my legs were worth saving for that effort. I had a nice lunch by the waterside and headed back to Swanage.

My unexpectedly free afternoon meant I had the chance to visit Tyneham – a village near Swanage & Corfe Castle that was forcibly evacuated in 1943 as part of the war effort and to which the residents were never allowed to return as the MoD held on to the land for use as a firing range.  Even now, it is only open to the public on certain dates of the year – that limited access took decades to gain.  It’s interesting to see a village, of sorts, in a popular tourist area that is completely untouched by the modern world – only the church & the school still stand complete, the few cottages are ruined.  It’s sobering to think of the families that lived there for generations under the protection of the local lord who all of a sudden didn’t have the only home they ever knew.

Saturday evening passed very pleasantly in Pamela’s company (my stomach was pretty happy too) & I slept well before heading back to Swanage Sunday morning.  Since I had left the previous afternoon, John & Richard (my Combe Raiders singlespeeders brothers in arms) had arrived from Somerset.  The event assembled in the same place & we took a more direct route to the start point – the pub of lunch on Saturday.  At about this stage it became apparent that we would only be doing twenty-odd miles – I was a little disappointed that I wouldn’t get to push past the distance I would normally ride & see how I’d go.

It must be noted, that even though it was a long Bank Holiday weekend, the weather was absolutely glorious.  Eventually, after noon, small groups of riders were let loose to make their way to the finish pub.  We were sick of waiting around so left reasonably early on in the piece.  It was a grassy reasonably long climb up on to the first ridge.  About halfway up it became apparent that John was going to ride a lot faster than both Rich & me, so we let him go and coming off the ridge I started to enjoy myself as I got over the shorter-distance disappointment & removal of challenge from the day.  It was back up the big hill to Nine Barrow Down – which I couldn’t let defeat me as I’d ridden it the day before.

Looking back towards Swanage while waiting for Rich

Down off the ridge in a different place, we were on the fun little bit of trail around the back of the golf course before the short climb that most had me wanting to get off & push (I didn’t). We dropped down again past dozens of ramblers out enjoying the sunshine, under the steam train & into Corfe Castle.  Rich & I had long since decided that we would stop in the village at a well-renowned bakery – it wasn’t exactly a competitive event; so we did just that and had the rather surreal experience of eating pasties & pastries in the sun-drenched historic village surrounded by scores of mountain-bikers and dozens of re-enacters dressed up as Saxons & Vikings – big helmets, chain mail and all sorts.

A quick snap of a lamppost & Corfe Castle.

A bit more climbing, with a horrid pinch climb on the tarmac, some nice trail & all of a sudden we were at the finish pub (Square & Compass – which must have the smallest bar I’ve ever seen in a pub) and it was only half past two.  Maybe I would have been able to fit fifty miles of such hills in to a day.  We basked in the sun for a while, heard John’s stories – he was one of the first to finish, not that it was much of a race – and didn’t really drink much; before long, eyes turned to the clock as John & Rich were heading back to Somerset & me to Poole.  We left before the pig on a rotating stick made an appearance & enjoyed the final descent back into Swanage along the Priest’s Way.

So not really the ride I was expecting or hoping for, but a great day out all the same. I’m not displeased that a larger group of Combe Raiders is heading back to Swanage next weekend for D’s 50th celebrations. I’d quite happily repeat that loop – hopefully the weather is just as good.

It was just as stunning a day on the Bank Holiday Monday, so after getting home late morning I could hardly waste it – I headed out into the forest to do an easy, flat recovery ride. It definitely was a flatter ride than the rest of the weekend & thankfully pretty easy too – as it turned out to be 73 km/46 miles more on the SS. Great to see so many people out enjoying the forest.

bikes, combe raiders, GPS, MTB, UK

Exmoor coastal route

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The idea after such an intense riding holiday was to have a week off the bike & get back to normal life.  That didn’t last long when I realised that the weather in the UK was a huge improvement on that when I left for the States.  After a day of surviving work & jetlag, I was out in the forest the day after surprised to see how much drier it was.

I got my singlespeed rear wheel back from the shop (new freehub) later that week & promptly went to Somerset for a Saturday ride that was supposed to be hilly with some of the Combe Raiders.  I was still quite excited by Moab (heck, I still am & it’s over two weeks later), so John & Anna got the undoubted pleasure of sitting through a lot of photos as I tried to contain myself – Anna probably got bored & John really jealous.  Getting out the door early Saturday meant I didn’t get to see much of the twins, but hopefully they’ll still remember me.

We met at Dunster Castle and the four of us headed to the beach for a bit of a sandy seafront section.  It was almost warm & definitely sunny.  The ride was a good mix of nice downhills and some big climbs – one of which ended up defeating me on the singlespeed & I had to walk a little.  As always riding with this small group the put-on West Country accents abounded & there was much amusement.

There’s the Quantocks behind – our more usual riding destination

We’re all still quite pleased with the shirts

After a slight detour for a much lauded plate of ham, egg & chips and a pint, we were back on the loop for a nasty climb – close to 15% for much of the first half. As this one had a slightly more reliable surface, it was just manageable – although I’m not sure that I’ll ever be able to keep with John on his 29er fully rigid singlespeed (actually the bike is not important – John will always be a stronger rider for me to try & keep up with).

Eventually we ended up back in Dunster for ice creams

There was a castle – although we didn’t get much closer than this – note the map of NZ in the bottom right

A good ride to get back in to UK riding, pleasantly dry & much fun. I was glad I made the rather mad effort to get across to Somerset on the roundabout route to London to visit a NZ friend & his new wife as they were finishing their big European trip/honeymoon. Unfortunately, my car cut out just as I reached the M25 junction on the M3 & I ended up waiting three hours for breakdown assistance – I was a little cold, tired, hungry & fed-up by the end of that. I never made it to London, limped home exhausted & have sent that rather problematic car back to the dealer – I now wait patiently for an acceptable replacement.

bikes, MTB, USA

The hire bike post

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I remember somewhere promising a post about the bike I hired for ten days recently in Moab – and there goes a fair chunk of my readership. Not having a bike suitable for Moab any more in England, I decided I would hire one in Moab. I could have bought one in the USA (either new or second-hand), but I have little use for such a bike in this rather flat part of the world & I’ve got my eyes on other bikes. Hiring a bike worked as I didn’t have to worry about taking a bike on a plane – the first time for a long haul trip since possibly 1996 – & I would get a reasonably new bike and mechanical support from the shop. Hiring bikes in Moab is not particularly cheap (hiring a 4×4 was cheaper), but I justified it as being about the same price as the lift pass I bought for a week’s skiing in the French Alps last year – & I like biking so much more, so worth it.

When choosing a bike to hire, I was aware that Megan & Alex would both be riding their 29ers and would therefore climb with relative ease. However, while I enjoy the easier climbing of a 29er I never got over feeling removed from the trail when I last rode their 29ers on singletrack in Canada. On Jeremy’s recommendation, I went for Poison Spider Bikes & they offered me a 650b bike – the wheel size is halfway between the standard 26″ and 29″. While I’d heard a little of 650b, I had mostly ignored it thinking it was just another fad – but was keen to see what it was all about. I ended up with a Rocky Mountain Altitude 730 that was only a few weeks old.

With the brake levers switched over & my SPDs fitted, I was good to go. It proved more than a capable bike – it climbed ever so well that I didn’t feel I was at a disadvantage with smaller wheels and it descended well. Admittedly, I have been riding a singlespeed hardtail mostly recently & have little need of trail bike with six inches front & rear – so that may have increased its place in my estimation. But it wasn’t long before I found that the bike could take much more than my normal level of riding & I was very comfortable pushing my limits well past what I thought I was capable of. It was very forgiving and with Nevegals & Nobby Nics on, the tires were reassuring and saved me a few times from washing out.

I’d also never ridden 2×10 before – that took a bit of getting used to, but mostly because I’d been riding singlespeed so much. All week, but particularly at the start, I kept catching myself riding a geared bike like a singlespeed – pretty much, ignoring the shifters and standing up and muscling over many rises/hills that could have been conquered with much less effort by a simple gear change.
Cue bike photos:

Just a couple of little gripes: the brake levers for such a new bike were incredibly floppy along the axis (i.e. up & down, as opposed to the in & out direction they are supposed to move in) and with the sandy environment, the pivots were pretty noisy already. But for a hire bike, it was in pretty good condition. I liked the 15 mm Maxle too – as I was constantly removing the front wheel to fit the bike in the back of my Forester.

So overall, I loved the bike and the confidence it gave me. I’d quite happily buy such a capable climber and a bike that descends better than I do – although I might go up one spec level. It’s probably fortunate for my bank balance that I don’t require such a bike right now; but possibly unfortunate for my state of mind that I don’t get to ride the trails that such a bike is built for more often.

bikes, friends, GPS, MTB, USA

Last Moab day – Slickrock & Klondike again

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It was with some (OK, great) sadness that I ate my last bowl of camp porridge and had my last mug of Egyptian tea for breakfast – for Friday was our last day in Moab.  I still hadn’t put in a fast lap of the Slickrock Trail – something I was keen to do to see how my fitness & riding had improved over the ten days.  Alex & I headed out while it was still cool & the trail was pretty much deserted.  I was quietly pleased to rattle out the trail in seventy-five minutes – about fifteen minutes faster than two other best times.

With camp packed up, there was nothing left to do but leave our little home (and go and hit the brewpub and drown our sorrows). Actually there was, I posted postcards and we finally visited Sweet Cravings, a cafe (serving breakfast, lunch and plenty of baked goodies) that we’d had the eyes of our stomachs on for some time. Megan promptly declared her lunch as the best sandwich she had ever had – my Thai chicken wrap was also worth of similar levels of praise.

There had been some discussion of what would be our final ride – Megan & I were keen for Captain Ahab again as it was so damn good, but that was hardly family-friendly. We settled on heading out Klondike Bluffs again to do a bit of riding with the Tout, before Megan & I could address our unfinished business with the singletrack that we didn’t get to ride on the mud-scapade . This worked out OK as there was still much tiredness around due to the second (& as far as I know, last) instalment of Finn’s night-terrors. We had a pleasant little ride together on Dino-Flow – rocky, but not too technical – before Alex & Finn left us to the more tricky stuff.

We rode a bit of EKG, which proved slow, rocky & reasonable technical; Megan wasn’t having a ball as she struggled to stay awake, but we made it up to UFO and that trail flowed a lot better and was a lot more enjoyable in our not-quite-peak state. Taking the easy, but fun, way down Baby Steps that we knew was there and onto the last part of EKG & then that, as they say, was it. All over red rover; I’m not sure I’ve gotten over that yet.

I had to head back to town to return my trusty steed & took the chance to grab a shower. I was pleased that I wasn’t charged for the few minor scratches, but especially because I was pretty convinced I’d blown the seal in the shock.

We rolled out of Moab faced with the four-hour drive back to Salt Lake City. As the weather closed in, I was well relieved to get a message from Jeremy saying that we could stay in their basement while they were away – not camp on the back lawn as was originally planned. That saved us much hassle & time in not pitching & taking-down camp in the rain and cold.

As I tend to do, that long solitary drive back to Salt Lake gave plenty of time to reflect on a fantastic biking holiday. I can’t even put the variable weather down as the only negative – it wasn’t always brilliant, but that was all part of the trip & gave some interesting snow scenery & riding. As for all the positives – excellent trails, spectacular scenery, great friends making for superb riding buddies, a very good bike, my riding & fitness improving significantly and some very tasty meals & beer – I’m not sure what to name the highlight, although one does tend to lean towards the riding, as it was a riding trip after all. Definitely the best holiday I’ve had in a long time (probably since the last USA riding trip in 2011) & that’s saying a lot as I’ve had plenty of trips all around the place in the intervening time. Maybe it’s because there’s not usually many photos of me on my, mostly, solo travels – but seldom have I seen so many photos of me grinning maniacally; that’s probably a good indicator of the quality of the trip.

Up sort of early Saturday morning as the others faced a 1500 km/almost 1000 mile drive back up north, we sorted everything out and then made a rather tortuous trip (due to being trapped within the SLC marathon course & new tires being bought for the others’ car) to the last of Jeremy’s recommendations – WAFFLES! It’s not often that I sink fifty dollars on breakfast, but every last cent was worth it – delicious. Then it was goodbye time in the rain, which at least made it mercifully brief & to the point – but then I wouldn’t expect much else from us lot.

Before I knew it, I’d returned the rental car, flown back to Heathrow (two planes, Mama!), tubed, trained, taxied, picked up my car and made it home – winning the not-race home as the return to Canmore was slowed by snow & ice in Alberta – and was back at work.

Biking to go places, going places to bike.