6hr Super D Enduro - an old woman in a young man's game

I didn’t quite get round to writing up my last day of my Vegas adventure before heading down south for my next adventure. Brief synopsis, the tracks were dry, I was tired, Corners had a punga stump that tried to cause my death by impalement on a fallen tree, B Rude Not 2 was awesome and so was Mad if you Don’t.  All in all Rotorua was brilliant and just the break we needed from Christchurch.

And after a brief trip home to snuggle the cat and wash a vast array of stinky mountain bike clothes it was into the car with me and down to Queenstown in the company of legendary hard man and epic ride enthusiast Oliver Whalley. The trip down to Q’town flew by as we discovered that we both liked to sing the guitar riffs of songs. Entering Q’town we got our boy racer trousers on and got the bass pumping and the windows down.  I got in touch will my inner teenager by hanging out with someone over ten years younger than me.

Photo Caleb Smith: Ollie flying into second place

After dumping Ollie and installing myself in my dorm room at Pinewood it was straight down to Ferg Burger with my lovely Pinewood companions for a feed before a rather early night. Driving for 5.5hours is knackering. Luckily I had very considerate dorm mates and slept well, sneaking out in the early dawn hours for breakfast at Ferg Bakery, and preparing my gear for the day. A quick pedal through the school and we were soon setting up our site in a primo position and registering. I caught up with a lot of people I hadn’t seen in a while, which was great, but I also started to feel quite sick with nerves.

After talking to a number of people I got the feeling I had really bitten off more than I could chew and when I discovered we were starting in numerical order and I was number 22 it’s safe to say I was freaking out a bit. I chatted nervously with the guy I shared the gondola ride to the top with and then we were off. My plan was for a conservative, stay alive approach to the race, however adrenalin got the best of me and after about 2 minutes of riding I was coming in too fast to a steep rooty corner and heading straight over the bars onto my head. In front of a marshall. Which I suppose was a good thing, but was very embarrassing and I raced to reassure him I was alright and to clear the track. I let a number of riders pass and got back on my stead and immediately noticed that my helmet kept dropping over my eyes. Not good. In fact so not good that very soon after I was on my head again and beginning to think that this was the end of my race.

At this stage I was pretty sure I had a leeeeetttle concussion as I had a big wiggly blind line in my left eye and I was positive my helmet had seen better days. Not to mention a headache. I continued down the hill, the words of my colleague Bob warning me that I was going to axe myself in this race, floating around my head. (Turns out he’s one to talk, below is a photo of him following Le Race when adrenalin got the better of him in the final corner. He’s a much harder man than I, but he’ll never admit it, and still finished the race looking like a cross between a mugging victim and a mummy).

Oh Bob, why did you jinx yourself by worrying about my skills so much?

Into the first climb and I decided if I was still have vision problems or if my headache was worse than the slightly dull ache it was at that point when I got to the bottom I’d pull the pin. This thought made me feel sick and very disappointed in myself for being such a muppet. As people streamed past on the climb that seemed to go on forever I had time to adjust my helmet ensuring I could at least see better on the next downhill bits. The nice singletrack climb (yes I did think it was nice at this stage of the race) dropped into Hammy’s with a rather nasty tight rooty and hastily cut steep corner that I wasn’t alone in not being able to ride.

I eased down Hammy’s and into the weird messy little bit above Singletrack Sandwich then it was back into Hammy’s before a nasty poorly formed switch back climb which almost everyone was running or pushing. From there it was a nice drop into lower Singletrack Sandwich and out to a steep pinch up to a slow grassy section of corners that I just couldn’t find flow on. From there it was all pretty much downhill and by the bottom I knew I was going to keep going.

I had a brief stop at the pits to get the super amazing Jo to fix my bike as the front gear cable had become dislodged in one of my crashes and I was stuck in the little ring. While she did that I removed my visor from my helmet and got it fitting right again. Yes it did have a crack in it and yes, I probably should have stopped riding once I discovered that, but I just couldn’t face only having one lap next to my name.

Spot the crack

Up the gondola again and this time I had great flow on the track, no crashes or near misses, the climbing wasn’t  too bad and I was grinning again. I really enjoyed that second lap. Another short stop at the bottom to let Jo know I was ok and then back up again. Now I was really loving the steep sections in Thingamajig and couldn’t work out how I’d managed to crash so spectacularly. The climbs however were taking their toll. And pain I had felt from the crashes was completely obliterated by the screaming of my legs on the climb and I knew I needed to stop after this lap and eat something substantial.

Photo Caleb Smith - once more making me look like a talented rider rather than a concussed muppet

At the bottom I eased into a chair and hoed into an astoundingly good ham and cheese croissant and gulped some V. Then some sour snakes for dessert and I was off again. I was still loving the downhill stuff, but the uphill was really hurting and some of the freshly cut transitions from one track to another were becoming quite scary. I used a tree to brake once to stop from going over a bank after I corner I’d ridden easily earlier had started to blow out and I couldn’t find traction.

There was more walking on the uphill singletrack section, under the guise of being polite and letting the fast riders past, and I also took the opportunity to stop and help a young grom who was experiencing cramp for the first time and was rather distressed. After helping him stretch a bit I gave him a handful of snakes and was on my way again. On the way down the blown out stuff was getting more blown out and I was getting more fatigued. I looked at the time and realised that I could fit a couple more laps in, even if I had ten minute breaks in the pits to recharge.

At the bottom I settled back in my chair and started on my second ham and cheese croissant. As I sat talking to Jo and my other friends coming in for food my stomach began to get tight. As the others headed off for more laps I sat thinking about the near misses I’d had in the last lap, and weigh them against the fun I was having getting air in places I’d been too scared to earlier. If I’d gotten up and ridden to the gondola just then things might have been different, but I sat a little longer and the fear took firm hold of me.

I was riding with a cracked helmet. I was very very tired. I ached all over. I had pretty decent headache. These thoughts wound through my brain and I decided that was it. 4 laps was enough. I walked back through the timing tent and turned my transponder in.

The rest of the afternoon was awesome, just hanging out, talking to cool peeps, cheering my amazing friend Michelle who was also soloing it and was just a machine. I dished out snakes to people in need and cheered for skids. It was great.

Photo Caleb Smith - Michelle showing her awesome steez and just generally blowing my mind

Later that evening I stood on the step of a podium for the first, and probably only time in my life. I’d got third in the hotly contested Veteran Woman’s solo section and I felt great as people clapped and I was handed a great pair of Specialized gloves as a prize. It was an awesome fun scary race that challenged me more than any other event I’ve ever done. And it wasn’t until the next day on the drive home (where I found an amazing pump track in Omarama, but only had legs for one feeble lap) that the regret hit and I wished I’d gone out for at least one more lap. You see I may have got third in my category, but I also got DFL and that kinda sucks. I’d like to say I’ll be back to do that race again, but with ongoing bouts of chronic fatigue I just don’t know if I’ll ever be able to put the training in to make it a less painful experience. But I’ve done it once and I’m rather proud of that.

Omarama pump track, worth stopping for

And here's my Bastian monster being cute outside.

Big Wheels go Up and Little Wheels do Hucks

The weather has been “interesting” of late and so on Friday when it was merely overcast I decided it was time to see how the big wheels went up a hill. For some strange reason I decided that Huntsbury should be the climb I tested them on, not the gentler and less covered in tar seal Rapaki. I think I had delusions of Mt Vernon the fun way and then back up for the Traverse.

I may have spent extra time on the lower slopes taking photos for strategic reasons

The lower slopes of Huntsbury went well on the big wheels, but once the gradient pitched up on the section by the water reservoir on Huntsbury Ave I started to struggle. Now I have to admit I’m not sure if my difficulties were due to the bigger wheels or my new found lack of fitness, but by halfway up I had to find a convenient side road and do a couple of circles on the flat to get my heart rate under control and stop the little dancing dots in front of my eyes.

Nearly at the top, time for another photo

The uber steep pinch near the top of the seal nearly did me in and the subsequent three steep pinches on the 4wd track left me gasping and my legs shaking. It was not pretty. Finally I made it to the top and cruised across the road to take in the view, safe in the knowledge that with legs like damp noodles I would not be taking on Mt Vernon.

Awwww, she looks right at home up here.

After the obligatory photo stop it was back on the bike and onto the fun singletrack of the Traverse. This was the first time I’d ever ridden the Traverse on a hardtail, let alone with big wheels, so I took it fairly easy. I loved the way the Trek cleared the rocky section where I usually dab and where I’ve had more than a few offs. Through the fast flowy, twisty bits I didn’t feel at home yet. A combination of brakes I’m not used to - must adjust reach on levers - and the way the wheels ride the corners meant I was pretty tentative.

This didn’t stop me dropping down to Brake Free and then onto Sesame St. The big wheels loved the bermed goodness of Sesame St and although it was a little bit rougher than my Anthem it was still great fun. Thumbs up on the downhill.

So the first really good test of my Trek is done and I’ve learnt a couple of things. This bike is going to make me fitter going uphill. I really need to sort out the brakes. 29ers eat rocky sections for breakfast. It’s fair to say I’m in love.

Then today I went to the other extreme. I had to make a trip out to Hornby so I threw my tiny bike on the back of the car and headed to the BMX track. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to the Hornby track and I really loved it. 10 laps had me almost passing out and my legs completely destroyed, but man it was fun.

My pumping skills have definitely improved and slowly but surely I’m getting more air over the jumps at the start. Now I just need way more cardio. Must ride my BMX at least once a week. It is stupidly fun and great interval work. I recommend that everyone gets one.

Oh by the way, I've decided to reward you, my lucky loyal readers with the most precious treat available on the interwebs, cute cat photo's. They will all be of my black monster Bastian (known variously as Bastoolio, Bastaloon, Stoon, Stool and some hideous baby talk names that will not be mentioned here). Today I give you Zombie Paws

You're welcome

Skyline Gondola Queenstown – 5,000 metres of descent

It is raining outside, which is good for Central Otago because they really need it and good for me because I’m knackered. I’ve been making the most of my time down here and on Wednesday hit the BMX track. That thing is loooooong. But fun. And very good for the skills as I found out yesterday when I drove through to Queenstown to hit up the Gondola on Bob’s Peak which now takes mountain bikes.

Arriving at about 10:30 (the gondola opens to bikes at 10) I soon had my purple half day wrist band ($45) and was in line for the gondola with a lot of downhill bikes. My little anthem suddenly looked even smaller and I felt a little apprehensive about what I was letting myself in for. At the top I had a quick chat with the guy at the bike workshop (you can hire bikes from the top or bottom) and was on my way. First stop Hammy’s, the longest and easiest trail on the hill. I took it easy and tried to tune into my bike and by the halfway mark realised I was being an idiot with my seat still all the way up. After dropping it 5cm the second half flowed much better and I was looking forward to my second run of the track. Hammy’s has plenty of little jumps and rollers for pumping. The BMXing really paid off!

After a few more Hammy’s, with a bit of riding on the structures beside the track, I decided it was time to move onto Vertigo, a blue grade 3 track. This was brilliant. Because it’s a bit harder and perhaps because of the steep entry it doesn’t seem to get the traffic of Hammy’s and was in excellent condition. While Hammy’s has plenty of big bermed corners, a lot of them are loose and badly rutted as riders brake hard and they see a lot of traffic. On Vertigo most of the corners are smooth and super-fast and there are plenty of roots and little step down to challenge. There are some bigger jumps too, but all are rollable if you’re willing to drop your speed. I really need to work on my jumps as I managed a couple of exciting nose wheelies just before the descent to the halfway mark.

Hairpin turn on Hammys one side...

... gorgeous view on the other

From the halfway mark I dropped into Original, which has plenty of steep sections, rooty blown out bits and in the later sections big wheel eating braking bumps and loose ruts. Plenty of challenges for someone on a steep angled cross country bike and halfway down it my brakes were singing the “I’m freaking hot” song.

As usual the camera doesn't do justice to the steepness

Each run down the hill I got more confident and learn a bit more about carrying speed and hitting the right lines. I was even starting to get a bit of air in places, on purpose too. Riding up in the gondola was the perfect opportunity to eat, drink and stretch the fingers. And on a number of occasions, chat to fellow riders. On my final ride up the hill I was sharing the gondola with a local chick on a downhill bike. I’d been wanting to ride Singletrack Sandwich, but as it is a black diamond grade 5 trail I was a little apprehensive about heading down it on the Anthem. She told me it was just steel and narrow, with one rollable drop and I decided to give it a go.

Down Hammies to the halfway mark and then a wee rest to prepare myself. Entering Singletrack Sandwich you are slightly lulled into a false sense of security as it starts off level, twisting over roots, through trees. Then it drops. A lot. The first corner was really steep and badly rutted down the middle. I stopped to examine it before I rode it, found a line I liked and rode it no problem. The next corner was even steeper and super loose and powdery. It looked ok, but I soon discovered the my bike didn’t want to turn so I bailed gracefully and walked round it. I was glad I did because the drop was at the bottom of this corner and I don’t think my seat was down low enough to safely roll it. So I walked that too. Next time.

My little baby hanging out with the big kids

The rest of the track was fairly straight forward in comparison to those two corners. Lots of roots, ruts and narrow bits, but really fun and in no time I was back on Original and then whooshing onto Hammy’s for the last time.

Oh so good!

11 runs down the hill done and I had time for one more, but I was feeling pretty exhausted so I decided to call it a day while I was intact and headed into town for a gelato at Patagonia Chocolates.  Just as I was finishing my well-earned treat the rain came down so I timed that perfectly. On the drive home I realised I was still very hungry despite the huge ice cream as I couldn’t stop fantasising about Jimmy’s pies. A quick stop in Cromwell remedied that and soon I was back at Mum’s and lying on the couch exhausted.

I cannot wait to head back to Queenstown and do that again, but till then I think I need to get stronger hands and fitter legs and arms.  Riding down the equivalent of 1.5 Mt Cooks really takes it out of you.

Maybe I should have listened to my architect

You may recall that just before the Longest Day ride I posted a query regarding my state of cursedness and discoursed on my level of horrible sickness. It so happened that that evening I was arranging a meeting with my architect, who happens to be a rather awesome singlespeed riding mad man, who had read my blog and gave me a well-meaning, but protracted lecture on looking after myself. Some of you may be aware that I have somewhat of a determined streak (be polite!) so I was sure I would ride, and I did and you have probably seen the results if you tune in regularly (it’s the previous post if you don’t).

Well, after that I didn’t feel too bad. Unfortunately the next day my lovely hubby and I were at the airport waiting for our delayed (oh the shock) Jetstar flight when a nice big earthquake hit. And then another bigger one. I am not embarrassed to say that I was really fricken scared during both of them. Seems my earthquake resilience is completely shot and now even minor wobbles freak me.

While in Auckland for chrimble I entered a different dimension.... ooooOOOOoooo

The upshot of all this was a Christmas break with me suffering from  very CFSs like symptoms, including sleeping most of the time, being incoherent at times, terrible headaches and migraines, and feeling completely weak and feeble. Of course this freaked me out even more, and I began to actually regret my awesome longest day ride.

I wasn't the only thing feeling worse for wear after more earthquakes

However now I’m on the mend so I’m not feeling soooo bad, but yes Dayle you were probably right, don’t rub it in.

To celebrate feeling slightly better I did a silly thing and decided that my first ride of the New Year should be the lung searing, technical grin-fest that is Living Springs. Hmmmm. When I got on my bike it felt weird under me. I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced this, but usually when I’m riding the bike and I are kind of one thing moving together. This was not the case on Sunday. And hence I completely overcooked a corner in Zanes and slid out. My forearm and thigh came down heavily on a root and I immediately developed an alien baby to rival the one I got in Hanmer that time.

Needless to say when I caught up to my husband I was not a happy camper having decided I could no longer ride to save my life that I was obviously destined to spend the rest of summer in bed sleeping my life away. Yes, I can be a little melodramatic at times. Fortunately after lying in the grass for a while and being consoled by my man I decided to push on with another lap. And I quite literally did as I really couldn’t ride up the 4wd track, but I didn’t care. My climbing up the switchbacks in The Pines was still good and sooner than I thought was possible for me in my current state, I was at the top of Rhymes with Orange and ready for another attempt at Zanes (via Mississippi). And what do you know, it was brilliant. I was one with the bike and flowed up, over, around and down the track, getting to the bottom much much faster than the first lap. Yay!

 After that awesome ride we headed to Lyttleton for a drink at the new container bar Port Hole on the site of my beloved Volcano. You can still see the cool garden bar, but everything else is gone.

Frequent patrons of the Lava Bar will recognise these steps

Now I am in sunny, hot Alex and with me I have my Anthem, my bmx and my road bike. Fun times are ahead. I’ve already checked out the brilliant pump track, and in the process discovered how effective my grippy pedals are at removing cores of shin flesh.  I’m planning on heading to Queenstown while I here for some gondola shuttlez as I’ve entered the Queenstown Bike Festival 6hr Super-D Enduro at the end of March. So excited about that one. And as if that wasn’t enough fun I’m also heading to Wellington for the Revolve women’s Super V race. Oh yeah, March madness for me this year (sorry about the alliteration, I couldn’t help it).

Artistically placed pedal garks

What a difference a week makes!

My last post didn’t talk much about week 4 of Aspire and that was because I was feeling completely down about the whole thing when I wrote it. Luckily my lack of weight loss didn’t make me want to throw in the towel, it just made me want to try harder. For me last week was all about getting out on my bike in the sun. Yep, there were multiple sunny days last week and I put them to good use with a lovely roadie ride out to Tai Tap, a wee jaunt up Kennedy’s Bush Rd in middle chain ring and some absolutely fantastic Nun repeats.

It was a pretty busy week, being a short one and I was determined to eat properly and focus on how my body reacted to higher intensity exercise now that I wasn’t feeling so hungry all the time. My roadie ride was great. I focussed on keeping a nice high cadence the whole ride and after an hour I got home feeling good and strong. I wasn’t ravenous either, but I certainly enjoyed my poached eggs that day. The next day I headed up Kennedy’s Bush Rd to see if I still had the stamina to get up the road in my middle chain ring. I won’t lie, I had to rest at the crest of the first hill as I was panting like a dog, but I was soon on my way and made to the gate at the top of the seal without dropping into grannies. Yes! My stamina is slowly coming back as my body adapts to getting less fuel in. Unfortunately I had pretty much stuffed myself for much more riding and after attacking the first section of 4wd track and discovering that the next section was not only incredibly muddy, but exposed to the nasty wind, I decided to head home for some food.

Saturday was the CSC’s end of year function and I was flat out all day. I was helping Roscoe prepare a gift for Craig and Rebekah and had to get up early to get last minute supplies. As I was driving back from town in the sun I decided that the weather was too good to waste and I would have to head out for laps of the Nun since it might not be open again for weeks. This was the right decision. The track was in perfect condition. No standing water, pretty dry, but just tacky enough to provide fantastic traction and running so smooth it was heaven. I only had an hour to get up there ride and get home before heading to the hall to help set up and I managed to get 2 runs in. I so wanted to do more, but it was not to be. The rest of the day and the evening flew by in a blur, although I did managed to completely resist the lure of Spag’s pizza’s and have a healthy dinner that night.

My busy week has paid dividends and I’ve now lost another whole kg since my last weigh in last Tuesday bringing my total for 6 weeks to 3.5kgs. I’m very happy with that, but I’m happier with the progress my fitness is making. The mini-work outs I’ve been doing at home are starting to benefit my riding with my upper body strength finally coming back and my core strength increasing. I’m looking forward to this week and getting out riding more. I feel like I’ve got over the hump now and the next 6 weeks of Aspire are going to be great.

Exploring strange new worlds

Finally I got to do some real mountain biking this weekend past! My lovely husband and I made a last minute decision to head over to the West Coast for Queen’s Birthday weekend and managed to score some lovely accommodation at Havenz, where we stayed last time we were there, in Punakaiki. I was very excited to head up to Denniston Plateau for some exploring as I’d read great things about the trails in both my trusty Kennett bible and NZMTBR. We drove over on Saturday and had a leisurely trip with a few stop offs and then chillaxed in our tree top accommodation and listened to the birds in the forest all around us.

Sunday was warm and humid, but overcast so we packed for wet wintery conditions and headed north. After a brief stop in Westport for nourishment and a map of the tracks at Denniston from the information centre there (only $1) we were soon winding our way up the hill to the old coal mining area. After exploring the old Incline where the coal was sent down off the plateau and hucking off various things we headed further up the hill the Friends of the Hill museum, where all the tracks started. We’d decided on the 11km cross country circuit and headed out into the desolate landscape. There was a definite chill in the air and the snow on the side of the 4wd tracks was evidence that we up in an alpine environment. It was gorgeous and barren and even riding the metalled road was a pleasure as the views on all sides were spectacular. The Southern Alps surrounded us on one side and on the other the coast and Tasman Sea stretched for miles.

Soon the road deteriorated into a very rough 4wd track and started with a very steep pinch climb. I was pretty impressed that I almost made it to the top of the pinch, give how weak I’ve been feeling lately, but it really knocked the wind out of me. We continued heading up and the track soon became a boggy river in places and there was a bit of walking. The track was mostly slab rock as we got higher which meant a lot of it was rideable as long as you picked the right line.

I really enjoyed the challenge of riding this terrain. I’ve never been confident about riding up rocks, but I found that I was taking on things I probably would have walked in the past and riding really well. I think all the playing in the back garden with my bmx has helped me get my head around lifting my front wheel to get over things. The final uphill section consisted of a rocky chute with gnarly roots running cross it and a nice stream trickling down in. It was almost like a series of little steps and I was grinning when I got to the top.

From there the fun really started. The descent was really rocky so not much mud to suck at wheels. I was loving choosing different lines down ledges and blasting across slabs. Soon we came to a steep rocky chute and after stopping to scope it out I could see a nice smooth line that I felt confident about riding. Hubby walked down and grumpily told me he wasn’t going to watch me crash, but I knew my line was good and I just had to carry enough speed into it. Whoooooosh and I was safely down cackling like a mad woman. It was great and was the first scary chute I’ve ever ridden, also the first thing I’ve ever ridden that my hubby hasn’t!

This success filled me with confidence and when we came to the next rocky chute I could again see a nice line, but wasn’t comfortable with the run in on the Anthem, so sensibly walked it. Unfortunately on the third rocky chute I wasn’t so sensible and didn’t even stop to scope it. I did however slow down way too much and as I entered the chute I thought “If I hit that big rock there I’ll endo” so of course I hit that rock and went straight over the bars. I was worried that hubby might be nearby so I cheerfully yelled out “Bugger!” in a tone that said “That looked way worse than it was, don’t worry I’m fine”. Meanwhile what I was thinking was “Oh shit, that hurt my hip really badly, but at least my bung elbow, shoulder, chest, doesn’t seem too bad, shit I’ve got gorse in my gloves and down my back, oh I’m stuck upside down, oooh my finger is a bit cut, thank god I’m wearing gloves, thank god I have extra padding round my hips, damn its difficult getting up when you feet are higher than your head.”

After this barrage of thoughts I realised that hubby wasn’t nearby because there was no yelling to see if I was alright so I gingerly felt my various parts for damage and slowly extracted myself from amongst the rocks and gorse. I’ve never crashed anywhere so jagged before and was feeling pretty lucky to be limping down the hill intact. My rear brake had been filled with dirt unfortunately and was making a hell of a noise and I was too scared to look at my hip while we were still in the middle of nowhere. Hubby was waiting at the bottom of the final and gnarliest rock chute which I walked down with a sheepish look on my face. I informed hubby of my overconfident muppetry and he sighed and we headed back to the car. The heavens opened up and it bucketed down and I sent hubby off ahead to bring the car up the museum. When I got there looking like a drowned rat the coal fire was burning away nicely and I stood in front of it and steamed till the car arrived with dry clothes. That fire was fantastic. I haven’t been near a coal fire since I was a child and I’d forgotten just how lovely the heat is from good quality coal (how un-PC of me!).

Finally I dragged myself away from the fire and got changed into dry clothes before reinstalling myself in front of the fire again. It was great watching the old films of the mines and hearing the stories, some of them terrible, of life on the plateau.
On our way out we stopped at an old abandoned playground which spoke volumes about how life had moved on. I took some photos and then a very scary man came and yelled at us so we left, feeling like we could hear banjos ringing in our ears.



Once back at our unit I perused the damage to my hip and was slightly horrified to see the bruise which is still spreading. Ouch!



Our trip home over Arthur’s Pass the next day was well timed, the weather was closing in quickly and our car kindly informed us that it was 3 degrees outside with a cheery ding. We stopped to play with the keas at Deadman’s Corner above the Otira Viaduct and they were most interested in eating various parts of our bikes. Luckily we managed to keep them safe from marauding beaks and claws.


The trip was wonderful and although I haven’t managed to lose any weight again this week (WTF!) I am happy to be riding my bikes again. I also look forward to a return trip to Denniston to explore more of the 50kms of tracks, and to planning my next cycle tour. I seem to be falling in love with the West Coast.

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.

Hanmer delivers a new love affair

Four days in Hanmer riding bikes and talking bollocks over good wine, what a way to start the week. Hubby and I and a couple of mates headed up to Hanmer Springs on Sunday afternoon and met up with insane winds. We all settled into our lovely wee house and watched the wind tear the gorgeous autumn foliage off the trees and send the leaves spiralling round the garden. We all agree that riding in a forest in that wind would not be the best plan so we headed to the pub. The rest of the day was spent eating, drinking and telling ridiculous stories.

We woke the next day feeling slightly fuzzy in the head with a combination of over indulgence the previous evening and a night of sleep interrupted by various bangs and thumps caused by the wind. Luckily the wind had blown itself out and it was a pleasant if overcast day. The day started well initially with some practice hucking off the deck. I was very happy with my progress on this front and later in the day my new found confidence came in handy. We all agreed to a gentle start zooming around the flat Forest Cruiser tracks and taking it from there. Unfortunately these plans came to an abrupt halt after a nasty head vs. post incident which meant hubby and I had to go into town and get a new helmet. Luckily, the lovely Neil at Krank came to our rescue and hubby’s brain was once more fully protected from harm. Neil also filled us in on the new track and how the forest was riding. We headed back to our little house and I left hubby to nurse his headache while I went for a blast through the forest, retracing some of the fantastic 4hr course. Through the forest, and I was flying at race pace. It was gorgeous in the trees with all the foliage in yellows, oranges and reds. The track was often obscured by the fresh leaf fall from the previous day’s strong winds, which made some of the corners even more exciting fun. Soon I was crossing the road and heading up the twists and turns of Mack 1. I think I actually enjoy this track more going up than down now! It really is a lovely wee climb. From there it was up the road to Larches Picnic area and down Dog Stream. I was humming along, zig- zagging between the rocks when I heard a nasty tearing noise. I slowed slightly in preparation for all the air to evacuate my back wheel, but nothing happened so I continued on and forgot about it. Onto Jolliffe Rd and up I headed, gently spinning and enjoying the lovely day. Soon I was at the skidder site and heading into Red Rocks. As usual the Anthem climbed like a dream up the steeper sections of the climb and I was feeling great at the top. I started heading down the dry track and noticed I was bouncing around a fair bit over the little drops and realised I hadn’t unlocked my front or rear suspension. D’oh! Quickly flicking the two switches on a flattish piece of track and I was soon zooming down the hill, loving every second of the descent, which has become a wee bit rutty. This just makes it all the more fun though. All too soon I was at the bottom and hopping my bike round 180° when I over balanced and took a nice big chunk of skin off my knee. Typical behaviour from me. Get through all the technical, potentially dangerous stuff and then fall off when I’m barely moving.

After lunch back at the house and cleaning up my knee, hubby and I headed out again. This time I took my Jamis as we were going to explore the new track Yankee Zephyr, plus hit Tank Track and a C-Line which have a bit more gnarl than I’m comfortable handling on my Anthem. We headed through town and up Clarence River Rd to Flax Gully and I was quickly reminded that the Jamis doesn’t like to go up hill. She’s such a fatty, and it was such hard work heading up the gravel road that I almost regretted bringing her. As we entered Flax Gully this was soon whipped away as we hit two lovely jumps and the Jamis soared through the air. Fun times. I ground my way up the rest of the track and soon we were at the skidder site, looking out across the barren, logged hillside. We could see Yankee Zephyr winding down and it looked great. Unfortunately it also looked like a nasty steep climb to get up to it, and it was. Also, we took the less scenic, more horrid climbing route to get to it and at one point I even had to push my fat girl for a bit. I haven’t had to do that in aaaaages!

It was oh so worth it! A little bit of singletrack climbing and we were standing on the edge of a steep bank, looking down at a narrow track that dropped away sharply and then started flowing through a seemingly endless series of berms which made perfect use of the gully below us. Down we went and soon there were little jumps off old stumps and drainage ditches to be hucked. The corners were all beautifully formed and once in the gully the fun really began with the need for pedalling and brakes removed by the track layout where you’d drop off one corner into the gully, and swoop up the other side to enter the next corner. This went on for at least 7 or 8 sets of corners until you are spat out on the road grinning from ear to ear and ready to head up the hill and try it again. Unfortunately for me my legs weren’t ready for that so we headed up another hill to Tank Track. On the way up the most ghastly steep bit of 4wd track we found the true entrance to Yankee Zephyr which cuts through some gorgeous old growth forest making the climb much more fun.

I made it to the start of Tank Track wheezing like an old woman in a poorly heated house in Southland. I had a quick look down the track and was glad to have my beloved fatty with me. Soon I was bouncing down big roots and over drops without a care in the world, whooping and laughing. Tank Track was good, but over way too quickly. It’s narrow and twisting through old growth forest and the track is criss-crossed by plenty of slippy roots which make for fun drops in many places. It was the first time I’ve ridden that track and I’m keen for more. Unfortunately on that day I wasn’t keen for more climbing so I watched as hubby powered up the hill for another lap of Yankee Zephyr, before we headed down Swoop, and Majuba and I headed home. A great day’s riding.

The next day threatened showers and I woke feeling very tired and unrested. It was a struggle to pull myself out of the warm bed and my upper body had that familiar aching in the shoulders and chest. Too many hucks the previous day maybe? All four of us decided to head out on the Jack’s Pass – Jollies’ Pass loop. As we climbed Clarence River Rd again I felt flat and uninspired to ride and then it started drizzling. Blah. The boys waited for us slower girls where the road meets the forestry road a short way up. The drizzle was fairly persistent now and hubby decided he wanted to ride the singletrack while it was still dry. Our friends continued on up the Pass and hubby and I headed to the correct entrance to Yankee Zephyr and I discovered I had a flat tyre. While searching for the source of my puncture I also discovered I had very neatly sliced my sidewall the previous day when rock hopping down Dog Stream. Luckily my tyre was about due for replacement so it wasn’t the end of the world. Both hubby and I were a bit grumpy after the tyre fixing and I realised I needed more sleep. Luckily the fantasticness of Yankee Zephyr took the edge off. We headed back to the wee house after that and I had a nap.

That night we rewarded ourselves with a trip to the hot pools, which despite the 60 primary school children who invaded the place just after we went in, was lovely. It was a chilly night, with almost a full moon and plenty of puffy clouds skudding across the sky. The warm, healing waters soaked into my aching shoulders, chest and elbow and all was right in the world. After a long long soak we returned to the wee house for night caps of delicious Black Ridge pinot noir.
The next morning we cleaned up the house and packed away our mountain of provisions. We’d all bought enough stuff with us to be staying a month so it took a couple of hours to get ready. Hubby decided he wanted to tackle Jacks-Jollies before we left and I decided I wanted to tackle mini golf. That worked out well so I headed off with our friends while hubby blasted up the pass. The mini golf was hilarious, and I was glad to improve on my shocking 96 from the last time I’d played this course. My putting prowess was much improved this round and I finished with a respectable 54. I bade goodbye to our friends and headed off to the forest to get a quick blast in before hubby returned from his ride. Unfortunately I’d only been going for 5 minutes when he called to say he was in town, speedy bugger!

It was a great trip and although I didn’t get as much riding in as I would have liked I was really happy with how my injuries held up to the fun singletrack. In complete contradiction to what my physio said, my osteo has said I should keep riding. I’m going to see how I feel after this weekend’s Singletrack Fiesta!

Solo for the first time

Oh so many bad Star Wars puns and Madonna song lines are running through my head right now, but I’m going to try and rise above the cheap laugh or innuendo and get down to the story.

Saturday was my first ever solo race and it was a 4 hour one. I’ve always been intrigued by 6hr solos but that seemed just a little beyond me so when I discovered that there was going to be a 4 and 8 hour race in Hanmer I was stoked. A number of discussions on the portal of time wasting and secret girly knowledge revelled that there was going to be a great turn out of Vorbettes and I got onto booking a house. And what a house I booked, it had the most stunning and disturbing carpet in the downstairs room. I’m glad I didn’t have to sleep in there or I would have been mentally scarred for the race the next day!


The day dawned brisk and bright and there was a layer of ice on the car. Brrrr. My various aches and particularly my gammy elbow were not happy about this. Hubby and I loaded up the car and headed to the camp site to set up while the rest of the girls lazed about in bed. In no time we had the tent mansion up with the other CSC riders and I was getting my usual pre-race jitters. I got to meet the amazing Jude Young, who is the primary reason I’ve even considered riding endurance races. She’s an amazing rider and an extremely cool person (who is probably not over the moon that I’m say such things about her). My bike arrived with the sleeping beauties and I went for a token warm up, planning to do most of my warming up on the first lap.

I’d talked to a couple of fast guys about the lap and they said they were cranking it out in 30mins at race pace, so I thought I’d be lucky to get through a lap in an hour. I set my goal to ride for 4 laps and settled myself at the back of the pack for the start. The hooter went and we were off! Those at the front zooming off, and those of us at the back setting off at a more leisurely pace. I pootled off up the road synchronising my watch and speedo, and looking like I was out for a Sunday ride. I am very serious after all!

The first lap sent us straight up the road and missed out all the singletrack climbs. I wanted to warm into the ride rather than blow up in the first 500ms as I’ve done in other races so I just spun up the gentle incline as people passed me. Soon we were at the turn off to the Larches picnic area and I discovered it was a very fun steep drop with a root running across it for excitement. Wooo hooo! Straight over the edge and I was slamming on my brakes as the people in front of me struggled to negotiate the bridge. Sigh. This was to be a feature of my first lap. I slipped past a couple of people before the bridge and one after and soon I was flying down Dog Steam track, floating between the rocks and ruts with a huge grin. Into the twisty single track and I passed a few more people before we hit the climb and they all went past me again. The grind up the 4wd climb was long and pretty gradual with only a couple of areas where it pitched up a tiny bit. I chatted to people as I spun up, saving my legs for the hours ahead of me.

At the top of the road I crossed the skidder site and headed down to the entrance to Timberlands, controlling my speed for the tight turn into the trees. Going down Timberlands was brilliant fun, although I had to pass a few people so I couldn’t really let loose on that lap. Even so the descent was over in what felt like seconds and I was popping out of the trees onto the gravel road and heading down. Cutting through the DoC area and on a walking track we were soon crossing under the road bridge and into the super fun twisty singletrack on the other side of the road. I was held up here a lot, but managed to pass plenty of people and found a fantastic flow. I was loving this race already. The first section of singletrack was super fast and fun and ended with a nasty pinch up a bank. From there it was more singletrack, but it was gently climbing and my legs could feel it. Soon I was out, crossing the road again, winding through the narrow walking track and zipping through the trees to the camp site. And I was grinning and very excited that I had more laps of this fantastic course to do.

After a quick change to fingerless gloves I was off again and dreading the upcoming climbs. Up Black Dog and it started off flatish through the trees and then became progressively steeper until it finished in a rather horrid little pinch right at the top before exiting on the 4WD track. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be and I was pretty happy that I could do it twice more, although in the back of my head I had started hoping that I would do it 3 times more. Down the loose road and into Mach 1 and this climb was fuuuunnnn! Jeremy Inglis and a couple of other 4hr riders blasted past me, politely, and I nearly lost it in one of the downhill bits when my back wheel hit a rock and bounced out sideways. Luckily my madcore skillz saved me. At the top of Mach 1 it was out onto the road and back on familiar ground. I had no traffic around me entering Larches and blasted down and onto the bridge, whooping. I brrrrrraaaapppped my way along Dog Stream and eased into the climb up the 4wd track.

Then one of the great highlights of the race. I was privileged to be lapped by one of the legendary racers of the mighty Bushlove Racing Team. Luckily I managed to maintain my composure at the sight of such manliness streaming past me and weakly cheered him on. I did some skidz down Timberlands and blasted down the road in a cloud of dust, then it was into the walking tracks briefly. Suddenly I hear a call of “Go Mel!” Yay, I love being cheered on. Then I was overcome with excitement as my new hero went past me, Ollie Whalley! Legend of the Kiwi Brevet, bridesmaid of the Alpine Epic, monkeyboy of Ventana. As he went was me he did a sic huck and loose as whip and I swooned slightly.

Giggling like a school girl I zoomed through the fantastic singletrack and passed a couple more people. I was getting lapped pretty regularly now, which was to be expected, and those passing were super polite and considerate which was great. Suddenly there was a deafening yell behind me of “Mel!” and I almost crashed into a tree. I returned the greeting with a hearty cry of “Dayle!” and let him slip past. We chatted for a while and then that crazy man on his rigid singlespeed disappeared into the forest, grinning like a madman.

My second lap finished and I was feeling pretty good and the clock was looking friendly. My arm was hurting a bit and some of the singletrack was really biting at it, but I was beginning to think 5 laps might be doable. I was having so much fun, that my niggling pains weren’t really an issue. The third lap went by in a blur of hucks and skidz and grinning, and soon I was back in the pits grabbing a handful of sour snakes and sorting an aggravating issue out. Back out on the bike I planned to push this lap and head straight out to get a fifth in. My body had different ideas.

As I climbed up Black Dog I could feel the muscles in my neck and lower back hardening up and on the short descent my lower back was really sore. Up Mach 1 and the twists and turns were really biting into arm. On the 4wd track I was riding up with one arm, trying to rest my right arm as my hand was get very sore and I was having difficulties changing gear with it. Down Dog Stream I tried to rest my lower back by not standing too much, but I couldn’t help myself, it was so fun to blast down there as fast as I could. Up on the climb my neck joined the pain party, but I was still sure I was going to get another lap in. Down Timberlands and the 4wd drive I was having so much fun I didn’t notice the pain. In the singletrack on the other side of the road it all began to unravel. There’s plenty of roots on that singletrack and every one I hit sent a bolt of pain through my right wrist and into my elbow where it’s screwed together. My fingers were starting to tingle painfully and my thumb was almost unusable. I checked my watch and realised I might have enough time for another lap, but I needed to stop and rub some Voltaren in my arm or I wouldn’t be going anywhere. I pushed on and felt awful. As I entered the campsite I couldn’t hold the bars with my right arm at all and my back was poked. I looked at the time and realised that I’d have to keep going without stopping and pull out a sub-40 min lap to get another lap in and pulled the pin. I rolled over the finish line and was met by my wonderful friend who helped me back to the tent. I rubbed Voltaren into my arm and collapsed in a deck chair.

I was gutted I couldn’t keep going, because the course was so fun, but I wasn’t surprised. I’ve been having so many problems since I hurt myself before Christmas that smashing myself on singletrack for over 3hrs was bound to shake everything up. The rest of the day was spent relaxing in the sun, chatting with old friends and new, heckling, I mean supporting riders and generally having a fantastic time. Once the painkillers kicked in I felt great and was stoked with my ride, and was very happy to discover I’d got 4th in my division, 20 minutes ahead of the person behind me.

The whole day was fantastic and I can’t wait to do it again, so hubby and I and some friends are heading up to Hanmer for 4 days of riding in a couple of weeks. Yeeeehaaa! Just in time for me to get a bit of training in for the Singletrack Fiesta the CSC is holding on the 1st of May. In the meantime, we’re off to Mt Somers this weekend and I’m going to race the Challenge race for the first time, I’m a sucker for punishment. I’ve promised my physio I’ll take time off from riding and heal after the 1st and I will. It’ll be hard, but I’ll do it!

A huge thanks to Rachel for looking after me and my hubby for all the support.