Falling off on the slab at Dalbeattie really hurts....

I must admit to having been a little bit cocky at Dalbeattie. Having survived 'The Qualifier', I looked down the slab and thought it actually looked OK. Apart that is, from some nasty diagonal ruts across its face, it seemed smooth and straightforward.

Half way down, i felt like i was doing about 50 miles an hour and willed myself not to touch the brakes. Even as I was touching the bottom I was looking at the runout thinking I had got away with it. That, sadly, is when disaster struck, the back wheel slid out sideways, i did an abrubt left turn and poleaxed myself onto the base of the slab, smearing myself

After the screaming had stopped and i'd worked i was still alive and could still breath, i pretty much knew by the pain that my ribs were broken. As well as this i had a completely dead leg from using my left leg as a rudder!

The guys milling aroung the bottom of the slab were brilliant, sorting out the ambulance and helping me limp out to the fire road. Ironically when the ambulance arrived, they had known exactly where to come, cos they had been there at just about the same time the day before!!

Made me think though about our vulnerability when we are out riding. I didnt have a phone or map with me, no-one else of the half dozen or so people around had a map either, and the day before even the ambulance had taken a couple of hours to find the spot as they hadnt ever been there before. None of us really knew where we were in the forest or how far away from the carpark we were, and i really couldnt have walked anywhere.

ANYWAYS i think i've learnt my lesson now (seeing as this is the second time i've broken ribs this year). Phones and maps are good... Only break something when there are lots of people around...

Snowdon Epic

Sometimes things don’t quite work out as you’d planned. You will have all had something not happen quite as you had envisaged, planned a trip only to find the car won’t start or gone to pay in a cheque only to find you’ve left it at home. Whilst these things are annoying they can be sorted without much hassle, when it comes to mountain biking these little issues can escalate into serious problems. A simple little puncture can mean the difference between cruising on home and being helicoptered out with hypothermia. What I’m getting at is that even the most prepared bikers can encounter problems they couldn’t have foreseen and these apparently small problems can have varying consequences depending on the conditions, cheating these can give you a sense of satisfaction but also make you realise that your probably not as invincible as you think.

Living in Wales the winters get pretty harsh, and the days very short, so as soon as the sun decides to appear and stay out past its usual bedtime of 5pm it gives us the opportunity of after work rides. Whilst post work rides are a good thing, attempting Snowdon turned out to not have been a particularly good idea. The ride shouldn’t have taken more that 3 hours and with the sun disappearing just after 9pm we should have had plenty of time to get back before dark. The estimated 3 hour ride time was reliant on us having no problems and setting off on time. As if written in small print in the back of our minds there was no real worry that we wouldn’t make it down before 9pm.

Things started badly with us setting off 30 minutes behind time. The sun was beaming down and the trail bone dry, we didn’t have a care in the world as we pedalled upwards, soaking in the magnificent views. Around about ¾ of the way up the sun began to redden and lower in the sky. Suddenly a sense of pressure descended on us. It was now a race against time, not wanting to get caught out in the dark. Looking below the track was slowly being cast in shadow as the sun kreeped its way behind the mountain opposite. Nearing the top it would have been a shame to have come this far to turn around and go back, so we decided to make the final push.

The views were absolutely epic, the mountains covered in a warm red glow and the sun itself fighting to stay above the ridge line. Although beautiful and tranquil there was a sense of urgency to get down off the mountain before dark, ‘the descent shouldn’t take any longer than 20 minutes so there should be just enough time to get down before darkness’, the small print in the back of the mind still really failing to cause too much concern as we set off down the mountain in the warm glow. After a couple of near misses I decided that now would not be the time to break myself and slowed the pace down. The first half of the descent went smoothly, well, as smoothly as the loose rock would allow, but at one of the more gnarly rock sections Ali was punished with a pinch flat. This would have to be a record breaking puncture repair, Formula One pit stop style to leave us with any chance of getting down in daylight.

One tube and two duff pumps later we weren’t getting much air into the tube. Light fading quickly now we decided to cut our loses and head down slowly, Ali taking it especially easy to avoid dinging his rim and pinch flatting again. As pitch blackness got closer things got harder, the riding got slower and things got a tad more bumpy as any decision concerning line choice was thrown out of the window. Toward the bottom things got rockier, we were crouched over the bikes not knowing when or where the hits were going to come from, just trying to stay upright was the name of the game now. Thankfully the gate was in sight, more of a black silhouette now and we were all still alive. Nervous giggles exchanged I think we all breathed a sigh of relief and freewheeled back down to the tarmac and to the pub for a pint.

Dyfi Enduro 2007

The Dyfi Enduro is one of those events that will have you coming back year after year. In much the same way that Glastonbury tickets disappear as soon as they go on sale, the Dyfi has become so popular that bikers flock online to register themselves early to confirm their places. The hype grows each time as new people discover the charm of the event and come back again each year. With its laid back approach the Dyfi Enduro puts no emphasis on doing well, with the important thing being that you have a good time.

I first experienced the Dyfi last year, me and a few of the guys from the Cardiff Uni MTB Club ventured up to Mid-Wales for a long weekend. For non racers like myself that have no interest in the competition side of mountain biking, this event is perfect, it serves as a personal challenge and brings together like minded bikers from all over the country. The campsite itself is a hive of activity with people catching up with old friends, fixing bikes or having a few bevies, it has an almost festival type atmosphere.

The enduro is well organised and thought out, everything from the free mug and stickers, half way feed station to the finish line commentary makes it a great event to be part of. All these things add up to make a brilliant all round event, but what really makes the Dyfi Enduro is the fantastic course. At only 65km you may be fooled into thinking this was an easy enduro, but within this relatively short distance it packs a punch. With around about 1400m of climbing the ride is sure to leave you with stiff legs, if not a hint of cramp. The descents are what make it so great for me, even though most of them are on old double tracks; they prove to be a challenge in themselves. Ruts, berms and jumps have been carved by motor crossers to provide tricky and in some places technical descents that are still plenty wide enough to provide a choice of lines so that you can sneakily pick off any stragglers.

As you can imagine I was looking forward to this years Dyfi, so was really frustrated when a broken seat post bolt, about 2/3rds of the way around, forced me to call it a day. Feedback from friends was all good though and it seems that everyone had a good time. People were friendly and the banter was good, there’s nothing like self inflicted, shared suffering to get people chatting. Respect is given to the three guys on Uni-cycles that were not only riding the course well but overtaking most bikers on the up hills. They really define the spirit of the Dyfi, to just test yourself and have fun, which is how it should stay. Thanks to all the organisers who made it happen and roll on Dyfi Enduro 2008.

Ali Chant (Single-speed/ Ludite) 3hr 40m
Jim Savege 4hr 3m
Sue Savege 4hr 20m
Matt Barnicott DNF

World Cup XC & Los Parapetes

This was our last day so we were willing to make the most of it. The weather was with us for the first time in a while and it was almost warm in the sun. We only had one more thing on our list that needed to be ticked off and this was the ‘World Cup XC Course’. It’s quite a grand title for what it was. The trail was no more than a smooth family walk type path, undulating through the trees. Being near the ski resort meant that there were big patches of snow on the trail, and although fun was not the easiest of stuff to ride through. We didn’t get very far if I’m honest. I was shocked at the fact that there is all this world class riding around us and they consider that a World Cup worthy XC course. After a while playing in the snow we decided to pack it in. To make the most of the day we decided to check out a piece of trail we had been eyeing up above G.Sierra from our venta on the opposite mountain the day before, as well as get some nice photos and video footage while the weather was good. Sue had ridden the first section a few days previously, and enjoyed it. The trail started at the top of a col above G.Sierra so I volunteered to fetch the van later on in the day.

The first section of trail was absolutely superb, starting off steep and loose and then turning into the fastest, flowing piece of trail ever. After this was a short push up to get onto the ridge above G.Sierra. Once on top it was a pleasant pedal across the top. Whilst looking about the edge of the ridge for the trail a herd of goat swarmed our bikes, nibbling at handle bars. We decided that the trail must begin at the top of the next rise. Between us and the next hill was a fantastic straight line descent, littered with rock and ruts. At the next rise was a set of concrete bunkers obviously used in the civil war. Below these we found out trail, clearly disappearing over the crest of the hill. Things started of super fast, swinging around a few flowing corners before dropping over the crest into a series of loose switchbacks. The trail was much of the same all the way down but it went on for ever. Toward the bottom we were both showing signs of tiredness and were making too many mistakes. The gradient and surface of the trail was very unforgiving and it would have been easy to come off badly. We decided it’d be best to get down alive and took it extra easy.

At the bottom we stopped at a venta for our caffeine hit, and the realisation of this climb began to hit me. Little did I know at the time but the climb was 8km in length and over 800m of ascent. I’ve never gritted my teeth quite as much as I did on this climb, but the thought of stopping and having to start again kept me going right to the top.

El Torro

Setting off from G.Sierra we headed up the hill on the opposite side of the reservoir, aiming to reach the road I climbed yesterday evening, this time taking a dirt track that zig-zagged straight up from Geujar itself. This was a much better route up, seeming to be over in half the time of the previous road climb. The aim was to try out another section of single track dropping down towards the reservoir, one I contemplated yesterday but decided the other looked more tempting.

After a venta stop we headed along the road to find the trail head. The trail itself started near a huge cut-out of a black bull. As well as the bull there was a series of masts and satellites all perched on a pinnacle. If the trail was where the map suggested then we would be needing a rope. Luckily after half an hours digging about we spotted the trail whilst on top of the pinnacle itself.

The trail was awesome and completely different to the trail I rode last night. It dropped steeply through trees and over some awkward rock features, with the only time it levelled out for a second was when we hit a series of switchbacks. Before long this dropped us out at the top of the col I had to push up to yesterday. The final blast down to Geujar was much better than I gave it credit for the previous day. I must have been completely worn out because it rode so much better this time round.

G.Sierra Gorge

Today we went our separate ways just exploring the local area. On the map I planned to ride along a path up the gorge and away from G.Sierra. Once in the gorge I found a couple of rope style bridges, which were very strange to ride. I was obviously paying too much attention to contours on the map rather than the scale grid because the trail along the gorge went on an on forever. None of it was particularly strenuous or anywhere near technical, but it kept of dragging gradually uphill. The trail was extremely popular with walkers which didn’t help, at one point I had to take a break and wait for a group of well over a hundred walkers to pass, I even got told it was too dangerous for me on my bike.

I was aiming for a little trail marked on the map about 10km along the gorge, which never seemed to come. I reached a big gully and a bridge which told me I had gone slightly too far. Back tracking I began to think the trail didn’t exists at all, but eventually I spotted it. It wasn’t much more than a sheep track to begin with and then it widened slightly. From the contours on the map I was expecting a push straight up the hillside, but had I known it was going to be near enough vertical I would have thought twice. About halfway up the path reached an open area where it just disappeared. Five minutes later finding what looked like a small cairn of rocks I followed a vague trail again until it disappeared for a second time. Not wanting to give up I decided to push on straight up hoping to find the trail again at the top. After 30 minutes of not really seeing any signs of a trail or any cairns I began to get a bit worried that I may have to cut my loses and head back down, just as this was going through my mind I quite literally stumbled across a well cut trail running across the hill… BINGO! I was back on the right track. After another scramble to the top I reached the refuge at the top that was marked on the map.

From here the going got a little better. The trail began to swoop down and into the open. It was the most perfect piece of Alpine-esque floaty single track, made even the more satisfying with the thought of perhaps being the first ever bike to have ridden it. I passed a handful of walkers heading up, as they looked on with open mouths in amazement I started to wonder just really what was ahead of me. After a bit of an awkward traverse and having to jump on and off the bike every couple of minutes the trail hit the ridge before dropping steeply back towards the gorge. The riding was great and felt all the more epic with the feeling of altitude and the knowledge that if anything went wrong it may be a few day before I’d be discovered. Pushing this to the back of my mind I made the most of the long descent. The trail was a mix of smooth wallowing single track into jagged rock gardens and natural steps. Towards the bottom the trail had be churned to pieces by cattle and there were lines everywhere, but rather than being awful this section was great fun. It was great bouncing from on line to another and being able to hit corner flat out because of the grippy, dry loose soil.

At the bottom it was definitely time for a venta stop. Even though it was getting on and I was pretty knackered I didn’t want to end there, so after a quick map consultation I decided on what I thought should be a shortish loop. I think I must have missed a few contours when looking at the map because the next road climb was an absolute beast. It seemed to go on an on, not letting up for a minute. A quick check of the map showed me that I was nearly there, just as I turn around a lycra clad Spanish XCer came flying past, barley out of breath. Exchanging a friendly ‘hola’ I set off behind him, watching him sprint off into the distance. At the top it was a 3 km blast down the main road. Big ring engaged I caught the cars up in front, using the whole lane to swing round the corners; this was possibly the biggest rush of the day. Almost flying past my turn off, I stopped to get armoured up. The trail I was aiming for headed straight down to the G.Sierra reservoir. This trail was a bit of a disappointment, it was very overgrown with spiky bushes that whipped and stung if you rode through them too quickly. Yet again I think I must have not been paying enough attention to the contours because at the bottom the trail started heading back up, steeply. After a 20 minute push I reached the top of a col where I finished the descent into G.Sierra.

Padul

We have been given the loan of a basement flat in Padul, a town just outside of Granada. At first glance the town seemed modern and as far from the mountain villages of Bubion and Capileira than you could imagine. For this reason I wasn’t expecting there to be much riding in the immediate area. We set out riding from the door and towards the hills behind the house. Immediately I was amazed by the number of visible trails, and I climbed the perfect single track ascent that looked steep as hell but was in fact all ridable. Once at the top it was a maze of forest tracks and trails. The view was spectacular out over the flat-lands on hampered by the mist that descended for an hour. I must have criss-crossed myself a dozen times, discovering new bits to ride and climbing back up again for more. By the end of the day I had clocked up well over 1600m and almost 30km and all within 5km of base. It ceases to amaze me the amount of quality riding all over the place here.

The best bits found have to be the strenuous steep single track climb and the GR descent. The climb up, even though strenuous, came with a massive sense of satisfaction and achievement at the top, as well as burning legs and lungs. Partly due to the fact you could look down and see exactly where you’d started from and partly due to the switchback that I took pride in riding clean.

All in all a good ride and a successful days exploration uncovering yet more fine single track. Highlight of the day has to be the awkward yet comical attempt at having a conversation with a Spanish biker which ended with a thumbs up and a smile.