Finding my lungs

Somewhere on the Longest Day Ride I dropped my lungs. Or it might have been the next day evacuating the airport during the earthquakes, maybe I left them on the floor when I tried to crawl under a chair because I thought the light fittings were going to bounce out of the ceiling and onto me. All I know is that since then I’ve been really struggling with having any lung capacity.

This was shown to me clearly when I ventured up Rapaki for the first time in a year. The geotechs and blasters have finished their work and the track is now officially open, although users are warned to “Stay away!” if they are uncomfortable with the ever present risk of rocks bouncing down on their noggins.  I chuckled to see my old friend Danger Officer Commander employing his mighty forearms to repel the deadly rocks and then headed up the track in the sun.

Rapaki is as it ever was, wide and smooth, although a couple of ruts have opened up and filled with deep gravel which could make descending slightly perilsome. As the hot sun beat down on me I was passed by a runner like I was standing still, which I almost was. I was really struggling. In fact I was going almost as slow as the first time I ever rode up Rapaki. My lack of breath was shown to me all to clearly when not too far from the top I had to stop! I just couldn’t catch my breath. Not good.
At the top I lay in the tussocks and enjoyed the stunning view while learning to breathe again. Finally I slowly drifted up the road and across the traverse and then down Sesame St and Dyers Rd. Back to bed with me after that ride.

Last Thursday my hubby and I took a day trip to Hanmer and I was hoping my lungs would be feeling much improved so I could enjoy the flowing tracks. Unfortunately this was not to be and at the halfway point of the climb up Mach 1 I was already struggling. Mach 1 was in mint condition and riding great so even though I wasn’t riding well I still loved it. We very naughtily decided to investigate the progress on reinstating Bigfoot. I ground slowly up the road while hubby took the more difficult option of heading up the Joliffe Track. At the carpark at the top hubby headed into the reinstated Fir Trail while I began the slow process of climbing the 17 switchbacks up Bigfoot.

This section of track hasn’t really been effected by the logging and was mint, although I found that I really struggled with right hand switchbacks and lost my front wheel twice resulting in tree-hugging to save myself. I had to stop a few times on the climb, which was no surprise and hubby caught up with me. Then the descent began. I should really title this naughty ride Blood, Sweat and Fears, because after sweating my way up to the top I was completely freaked out riding down.

Of course this was our own fault for riding a track that isn’t open and ready to be riding yet. With the trees gone and the sharp stones the lie beneath the surface exposed and loose it was nerve jangling riding down. The track is narrower and falls away quickly down the steep banks and what were once fun grippy corners now felt like loose death traps. Finally I came to grief in a steep tight turn where my bike got into the loose stuff and I just couldn’t get it to turn. Skin on knees be gone! After this I ended up walking a couple more of the corners and decided that I probably deserved to lose some skin for riding a closed track. BAD GIRL!

After this we headed up Detox which was in great condition, but I’d lost my bottle and failed to ride the little rock drop. By the bottom I was spent and riding like a complete muppet so I headed back to the car while hubby went out to ride Red Rocks, Swoop, Swamp Track and Yankee Zypher. He came back to the car with bleeding forearms after being attacked by brambles on the more over grown tracks.

So not my best ride in Hanmer and I was feeling a little dejected about my lack of fitness after this adventure. I was also feeling intense burning pain when I applied the liquid plaster to my grazes. Wow that stuff hurts!

Freshly cleaned graze looks fairly minor

Two days later is looking pretty rough and is still owie

So I was a little apprehensive about heading to Living Springs yesterday. The 4wd track climb here is not my friend, I’ve only managed to ride up it a few times and usually I’m ready to pass out by the top. Yesterday I actually rode up it with relative ease. I say relative because to a normal fit person it would have looked like a struggle, but for me it was really good. We sifted around the rest of the tracks, my lovely friend Michelle showing her friend how to ride the lovely tight corners of Zanes. I had my flow on and it was a brilliant ride. But the end of the lap I was feeling so confident we decided to take a look at the Canyon Drop. A very steep pinch climb leads you into a big rollover down a rock into a canyon (surprisingly enough).

As I rolled in to have a look at it I lost my bottle, that thing is steep and a long way down. The lovely Michelle showed me how it was done and then I was rolling in and committed. WEeeeeeee! My forks bottomed out as I hit the bottom and then I was safely zooming out. Awesome.

After that we drove up to Brake Free and sessioned that for a while and I’ve start to get some confidence over jumps again. Then in a fit a madness I decided I wanted to ride down Sesame St and bike back up the hideous steep 4wd track. I was pretty impressed that I managed to ride most of it and only lost my front wheel once! Then an out and back along the Traverse and I was grinning ear to ear. By far the best ride I’ve had in ages. I was really flowing well and rode the Traverse cleaner than I ever have before.  I’m really looking forward to heading back down for more time on the Queenstown tracks this week. Come on fitness, I know you’re there somewhere!

What’s more fun than racing?

The Christchurch Singletrack Club had its club champs on Saturday and it was a fantastic Mexican singletrack fiesta with a race for everyone. Not only was I racing, but I was also helping with setting up, timing, and running other races. The weather forecast was ominous so I was glad to be attired in a nice heavy poncho and warm cowboy hat. Unfortunately my moustache was horribly uncomfortable and kept falling off. Stupid thing. Luckily the day dawned beautifully and we managed to get everything set up in the morning sun. Soon the whippets were arriving, cheesey moustaches, both real and stuck or drawn on, fluro ponchos and other Mexican paraphernalia arrayed about their persons. It was most amusing. I was doing the computer timing for the expert (Rapido) race and having never done it before I was feeling slightly nervous. Luckily it was easy and fun and I loved every second. I was particularly enjoying watching one the battle between Slim and JD, but unfortunately I had to leave my post before all the racers finished as I was racing in the next race and needed to get the circulation going in my legs again after sitting in the chilly southerly wind for over an hour.

Riding down Zane’s was great fun, but I was feeling very apprehensive about climbing up the 4wd and the Pines 3 times. I’ve never yet managed to ride all the way to the top without stopping and I’ve only ever managed to ride 2 laps of the course. This was going to hurt a lot. All too soon we were off and I spun up the 4wd track as well as I could. My lungs felt pretty rough by halfway up the 4wd drive track and I was fully in survival mode right from the start. I kept going and really loved the new Pines extension and the fabulous “never-ending berm”. Then it was back to the climbing. My legs felt pretty good and up I went, winding through the switchbacks and getting my heart rate under control on the flatter sections. Soon I was at Rhymes with Orange and being roundly heckled for my feeble pace. Oh well, that’s one of the draw backs of being a mouthy heckler and a popular and well loved blogger. Up into Goodie Gum Drops for the first time ever and it was a fun little bit of track and finally I was heading down hill.

Back through Zanes and I was loving this bit of track. I knew I was catching the guy in front of me and stretching a gap to those behind me, but I knew I’d need it because just like at Hanmer my back was spasming. Back onto the 4wd track and there was no way I could put the power down I needed and I stopped for a second and tried to loosen my back up. I trudged up the 4wd track with my bike feeling pretty shit, but then rode all the singletrack of the Pines, although I needed a few breathers along the way. I was glad the hecklers had moved on, I was not in the zone at all and probably wouldn’t have handled it very well. I got great support going across the finish line, but I felt like fraud. Down Zanes again and I actually wasn’t loving it, the thought of the last climb was making me feel sick. I hit the last climb and hit the wall. I’d only eaten a muesli bar in the previous 3 hours and I bonked big time struggling to push the bike up the hill.
My legs felt like spaghetti and the marshals had even left. I wanted to pull the pin, but the idea of DNF was completely hideous. I had to walk up a couple of the higher switchbacks as downhillers bombed down beside me. I struggled on and was determined to not look like death on wheels when I popped out of the trees. Up Goodie Gum Drops for the last time and reaching the top was a huge relief. I was so glad the climbing was over I did a couple of hucks on the descent, and hammed it up over the line. Then I collapsed at my car and drank 500mls of replace.

I felt like crap, but I got changed into my lovely poncho again and scoffed my free pie and felt like a new person. Then it was time for the singlespeed race, where I had to help with the “activities” the riders needed to complete between laps. The costumes on display in this race were fantastic, and watching the crazies dash up a hill to find a plant pot, then run down, put it on the end of a 3m pole and spin round with it on their heads was so funny that my mood was transformed. Then I proceeded to the table of Tabasco and helped the lovely Sarah set up the plates of nachos and beans, which the riders would have to eat ALL of sans hands before proceeding. The first two riders arrived, Dayle on his sexy new ti Singular Pegasus. I feel very privileged to have been allowed to stroke such a divine creature, and Nick Bushlove close behind. 

Unfortunately these two finely tuned athletes were not very good at following instructions and after a rather token effort the need for the race saw them leaving with their plates still full of food. Not good. Not long after Ollie arrived and with great encouragement from his lovely mother, who obviously raised him right to finish all his food, Ollie got the whole lot down. More racers rolled in, including young Anton on his insane 10” kids bike, and cleaned their plates amidst much complaining and much laughter from those of us in the vicinity. After some serious conferring amongst the race officials it was decided that the two leading banditoes had managed to save a significant amount of time with their wiley ways and they would have to be punished. So it was with a heavy heart I was sent to stop them before the end and ensure they eat their nachos. The controversy was great and the outrage was evident, especially when Ollie sailed past Dayle and Nick as they wolfed down their nachos. Nick took off like a man possessed to reel Ollie back in and almost had him on the line, but Ollie’s skinsuit gave him that tiny edge over the fluro poncho and he maintained a slim lead over the line.

There followed an epic prizegiving where I actually got a prize for getting 2nd in my age group for my race! OMG! I also scored a lovely box of Barkers jams and chutneys. Om nom nom. It was a great day and for me the best part was being involved in running the day. It was great being part of such a fun community and providing an event that had something for everyone. I missed it, but there was even a fantastic children’s race which saw loads of kids having a great time and giving it their all. Although I’m not sure whether the presence of death in their midst was fun for them or not.

 

Thanks heaps to Rebekah and Craig and the CSC, and to my lovely supporters. Now I’ve been laid low with a flu and ideas of racing the night racing series are drifting away and I’m considering just hitting the roadie and training for some mid-winter madness which I’m really not qualified to take part in.

Snake charming is the perfect end

Before I get into this blog post I just want to briefly acknowledge how sad I was to read Fat Cyclist’s blog post of the 5th of August, letting us know his courageous and amazing wife had finally succumbed to the cancer she had been fighting so long. His blog has been an inspiration to me for a long time and now. WIN Fatty!

Anyway onto happier things, such as the stunning weekend we just had in Christchurch, in fact I believe most of this glorious country experienced fantastic sunny weather this weekend. For me this meant a weekend of boundary pushing. It started well on Friday evening with a quick jaunt up Kennedy’s Bush. It was a bit nippy out and I stupidly was only wearing shorts and a short sleeved top with a woolie singlet under it. The icy wind was whipping off Lake Ellesmere, so I had to work extra hard to just stay warm. We hammered up pretty quickly and I revelled in the 1 minute singletrack descent at the halfway point as usual. Further up I was distracted by the cute hairy cows again and almost feel off my bike laughing as one stumbled down a bank in front of me. It looked completely drunk! We got to the last steep climb and the sun was setting behind the Alps and the wind was really picking up. I pushed my freezing body as hard as I could, but I was just so cold. I stopped and put my extra warm Ice Queen on, but the damage was done, I was just too cold now. Didn’t quite make it to the top, but enjoyed the breath-taking sunset and then headed down out of the biting wind. It was getting quite dark now and I found it an interesting battle between the part of my brain that was saying “Oi! Slow down, it’s dark, you can’t really see the ruts” and the part of my brain that was saying “Faster, faster, faster, it’s cold, get out of the wind”. It turns out the go faster part won, it often does, and I flew down the hill, till I got back to the hairy cows. They were arrayed across the track and in the dying light the seemed much more receptive to patting. I couldn’t resist stopping and patting the cute baby cow with the floppy fringe while it’s gorgeous mum licked the salt off my leg. Of course this delay meant it was even darker by the time we got to the singletrack on the front of the hill. I was adamant I would be sensible and ride the 4wd track down but as my lovely husband zoomed down the singletrack I just had to follow him. I know this track well and really wanted to try riding it in the gloomy fading light. It was fun. I was grinning at the bottom. At fantastic ride, if only there had been more hot water when we got home.

Saturday was a stunner, if a bit blusterous. I’d checked if it was ok to ride at Living Springs and been given the go ahead so hubby and I went and picked up Rita and headed over. The track was in excellent condition, with only one really wet patch right at the very bottom of Zanes. Unfortunately I didn’t see it till too late of my first lap and end up sliding along the bank at high speed and being completely coated in mud on one side! Ooops. I daintily walked this section the next lap. My legs weren’t very happy on the climbs, apparently the previous night’s hammering at Kennedy’s had left them slightly tired so riding up the steep tractor-chewed 4wd track wasn’t super good, or to be honest, good at all. Once into the singletrack things were much better and it was beautiful climbing up the switchbacks through the trees.

The descent was completely fantastic. Lots of tight corners, flowy sections and challenging pinches. And all in the beautiful yellow glowing light. One section of track was completely covered in leaves and riding through there was magical. I really loved riding the track, in fact so much so that I was willing to take on the horrible climb a second time. The second time hurt bad going up, even the climb through the forest wasn’t fun for me this time. But it was worth it and I was grinning madly at the end. A stop at the Governor’s Bay pub on the way home for beer, wedges and cake capped off at great ride.

Ahhh, SUNday. Even better weather than Saturday, no nasty wind. Really, what I should have been doing was some sifty, flat riding to recover from the two previous high intensity days. But the hills were bathed in warm sunlight and I was aching (well I am today) to ride the tracks I’d so recently walked, Greenwood Park, Godley Head (argh!) and the beautiful Anaconda. Cunningly I planned to drive up to the top and Mt Pleasant Rd so I could ride Greenwood with my legs as fresh as possible, not very fresh it turns out. More like a bit of one day old bread that’s been left on the bench in the sun. Uh, oh. It was just me and scatter, and as we wound our way around the hill and through the rocks we were very happy. I rode better than expected and finally mastered the art of floating up rocky bits while still pedalling. There were only a few sections on Greenwood that I walked and only one pedal-into-rock-stopping-bike-suddenly incident (which was just amusing rather than painful). I loved Greenwood Park and can’t wait to ride it again. Lots of challenges, but soooo much fun.

Then we were onto the dreaded Godley Head track with its initial rocky death wall (as I call it). I was pretty tired already and knew that there would be a lot of pushing my bike up rocks. And there was, but there was also more riding my bike up rocks than expected which made me very happy. Then we were through that really tough section and out onto the flowy, and recently well armoured, sections, hooning over the boardwalks and generally having a great time. The descent back down the other side of the hill was so flowy and fast I was grinning and laughing. And then suddenly I was laughing even harder when I hit a rut at the bottom and gracefully crashed in slow motion, coming to rest on my side, fully stretched out up on my elbow as if I was reclining on a chaise longue and one foot still attached to my bike. It was hilarious, and luckily a rider coming the other way got to enjoy the spectacle I’d made of myself because a crash like that needs to be seen and enjoyed by others. He congratulated me on my grace and amusingness, which I thought was nice of him.

Then finally we were at the top of the Anaconda. This serpentine track winds down to Taylor’s Mistake and has become truly brilliant in the last couple of years. Oh, I’ve been wanting to ride this for a long time now. It was so good, the big bermed corners encouraging speed, the little groms pushing their bikes up – stunned to see two chicks riding down it at top speed, the sun and sea sparkling and then, too soon, it was over. And the ride was over and our ride was there to pick us up and take me back up to my car. Thanks Slim!

It was a fantastic weekend of pushing my skills and fitness to the limit in great company and I loved it all, even when it hurt, even when I had to lie down and eat a banana cause I couldn’t move any further and even when I stuffed up bits of track and had to walk them. I’m very glad I have yoga tonight because I’ve got aches and pains in new and exciting places and need a damn good stretching. Bring on more sunny weather!

The view from the other side, plus some very exciting news

There’s a new sheriff in town

Well, that’s not actually true, but I was a marshal at the weekend, for the first time. It was Round 3 of the Canterbury XC series at the weekend and it was held at the fantastic Living Springs track on Banks Peninsula (which Pete and I helped dig). Also held at the track on the same day was the South Island Singlespeed Champs so it was a long day of racing and a very long day of fluro vest wearing. Being a marshal is pretty cool actually, especially if no one does anything silly and crashes in your neck of the woods. You are provided with a very fashionable hi-vis vest, a walkie talkie, map of the course and notebook and pen for the official look. I was disappointed not to get a shiny badge, but being provided lunch made up for that.

My day consisted of shouting encouragement, and later in the singlespeed race, abuse (they loved it, bunch of masochists), at the racers, taking a few snaps, applying liberal amounts of sunscreen and chatting to various punters. The racing was fantastic, with the course hammering everyone. The sport race guys started out in the morning and some of them were suffering from early on. It was a great race, with a few of the expert guys doing their laps early so they could punish themselves in the singlespeed race in the arvo.
I did discover a few drawbacks to marshalling multiple races in one day. If you are lucky enough to have different areas for different races there can be quite a bit of hiking to be done in a short space of time. While I did enjoy walking the track to get to the complete other side, the enormous blister that formed on the arch of my foot put somewhat of a damper on my mood. Owie (yes, I am a big baby). Also there’s not a lot, in fact there’s no opportunity for a toilet break unless you’re stationed up near the start, which I wasn’t. Luckily I have developed a bladder of steel over many years of drinking so this wasn’t too much of an issue.

The expert race was an absolute ripper and being stationed by the only jump on the course provided me with plenty of entertainment, but luckily no nasty crashes. Young Anton Cooper completely blitzed the field. That boy makes me sick, not only is he incredibly talented and fast, he’s also a really nice kid. I’m looking forward to seeing him kick some international arse in the future when he gets older.

The final race of the day was by far the most fun to watch. The singlespeeders are a mental breed and all dressed either themselves or their bikes appropriately for the race. Some the expert riders who’d just finished 6 laps of the course were lining up at the start for another 5 laps, but this time without gears. Not Right At All! Especially in a gorilla suit. You wanna sweat, wear one of those while racing. Unfortunately for my eyes costumes (if you can call it that) also went to the other extreme with one insane man wearing nothing but a horribly small g-string. Won’t someone think of the children! I’m guessing riding with a tiny bit of material in your butt crack is not a very pleasant experience, possibly even worse than riding in a gorilla suit.

I was gutted I couldn’t race this race, it looked like heaps of fun (and heaps of pain). Any race where you get to colour in, eat weet-bix and drink beer sounds great by me! Hopefully next year I’ll be fit and raring to go. All in all I loved marshalling. It was great to be part of such fun and well organised events, even if I’ve managed to shout my throat raw.

Exciting News
This is actually old news, but I didn’t want to write about it till it was done and dusted. A month or so ago I sent a couple of bits of writing off to the fantastic Spoke magazine to see if they would be interested in publishing something I’d written. I’ve always wanted to have something published in a magazine and I’ve had some encouragement from a couple of people to give it go recently. I’m over the moon to say that not only did the editor of Spoke like my writing, she then asked me to write another piece for the upcoming edition. Wooo Hooo, commissioned to write for Spoke, oh yeah! I’ve sent my piece off today and will be eagerly awaiting the next issue hitting news stands to see my name in the byline.