Welsh Cyclocross League Round 9: Gilwern Outdoor Centre, Abergavenny

After a weekend off, the final third of the season begins with a short drive to Gilwern near Abergavenny, the first of four races in five weeks before the end of the Welsh League.
Mud was on the agenda before I even got on the bike; access to the car park was through a muddy field which required momentum and commitment to get the car through without getting stuck! Fortunately us cyclocrossers are comfortable with sliding through the mud, just normally on only two wheels. I raced here last year, and found the course similar: quite technical, with a fast descent and a long muddy climb each lap. I didn’t go particularly well here last year; and I had a feeling that, like Newtown, I was going to lose out to the people who were faster in the technical sections than me. Looking around as we lined up before the start, I also noticed that this was a very strong field, with all the main Welsh League protagonists in attendance plus a few strong English riders making guest appearances from over the border. This was going to be a tough one then. I got a good start this week and made sure I moved up before we hit the first corner. I then spent the first couple of laps drifting back down the pecking order: sure enough I was losing time in the twisty, slippery sections of the course, and on the fast muddy downhill through the woods. I settled in though, and made up what time I could on the power sections and the climb. Although I rode it in practice, this climb was definitely quicker to run, and the preceding 100 metres was so muddy that it made sense to dismount for that too, pick the bike up and run the whole section. This made for a total of about 1 minute of running each lap - suddenly those running intervals I’d been doing in training all autumn seemed worth it.

Carrying a perfectly rideable bicycle up a hill. Photo by Behnaz Dye.

As the race went on, much of the surface evolved from slippery grass to more playdough-like mud. This suited me more - there was more grip so less tiptoeing round corners, and the energy-sapping surface was hurting some of those I was racing more than it was hurting me. I went into the last lap just behind two riders I’d been with for all of the second half of the race, and my strategy was clear: stay as close to them as possible through the twisty sections (where they were both a little quicker than me), and then go 100% from the bottom of the climb, as the finish line was only a short stretch of tarmac beyond this. No longer interested in bike preservation, I rode the first of the mud this time, overtaking one rider in the process, and then ran full gas up the climb to pass the other. I was deep into the red at the top, but a glance over my shoulder as I turned onto the tarmac straight to the finish showed I had got the gap I needed. I finished 23rd.

Welsh Cyclocross League Round 8: Trehafren Fields, Newtown

The fifth weekend of racing in a row. I was keen to get one more result in the bag but also looking forward to a weekend off. This was also the longest drive of the season: Newtown is just over 100 miles away, so I treated myself to a night in a bed and breakfast, an 8 o’clock alarm and someone else to prepare my pre-race breakfast. I’d heard the course here was quite technical, and indeed it was. The first half of the lap was a straightforward blast across flat parkland - albeit into a strong headwind, but the return leg meandered up and down a wooded hillside, featuring a long run up a flight of steps and a couple of rooty, muddy downhills in the woods that would not have looked out of place on a cross country course. Rain was forecast but never really arrived, but the course was coated with enough sticky mud and leaves to bring bike changes into play. Fortunately my team-mate Craig had made the trip from Cardiff as well, with Doug, his ever-present and helpful dad, who did a great job in the pits for me. The race started with the long straight grassy section, and the headwind made things reminiscent of a road race, as a large bunch sat in behind those who toiled on the front in the wind. I lost out in the first couple of pinch points, but got through lap one just about cleanly, surviving having someone directly behind me crashing on a technical section, hitting my back wheel hard but not doing any damage or taking me down with him. It soon became clear that, fun as it was, this was not a course that suited me all that well. I was getting round all the technical sections, but not as fast as the good bike handlers, and taking the ‘safe but slow’ lines on some sections. Several times I would chase down a gap of several seconds on the long straight into the wind, but then be unable to drop the rider I caught as he sheltered behind me out of the wind. The only time I was gaining was on the long run uphill. By the last couple of laps, I was on my own and happy just to maintain my position. Some sections of the course were by now very treacherous but I managed not to make any major mistakes (making some minor ones is OK, at least that way I know I can’t push any harder in the corners without falling off!). I crossed the line 19th on a bike very heavy with mud, despite have changed bike twice.

Welsh Cyclocross League Round 7: Melin Mynach Park, Gorseinon

Another trip out west to another familiar, and often muddy, venue. The course on Melin Mynach Park winds down (and of course back up) a hillside and is always heavy going. Despite racing in unseasonably warm sunshine for the first day of November, there was indeed plenty of mud on offer.

Photo by Lucy Harvey

This race would have been the epitome of a solid but unspectacular race for me, were it not for (spoiler alert) the last lap. A decent but not fantastic start slotted me into the top 20. As things settled down I dropped a few riders and spent most of the race close to, but not close enough to catch, the next group ahead of me. As with Carmarthen, the course deteriorated as the day went on, and one long mud section at the bottom of the course became quicker to run than ride.

Suffering in the November heat. Photo by Lucy Harvey.

As I took the bell and prepared myself for one last push, I broke my rear derailleur. There was no point even checking the bike for damage; I switched straight into damage limitation mode and just picked it up and started running to the pits, which were three-quarters of a lap away. I do a bit of cross-country running as part of my training, so I’m used to running through the mud, but nothing could prepare me for the ordeal of running almost a mile carrying a heavy, muddy bike, tired after 50 minutes of racing, and watching competitor after competitor effortlessly pass me as I inched my way towards the pits. According to my GPS, the run took to the pits took me about nine minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. I ran, walked and staggered along, stitch burning in my abdomen. I couldn’t even push the bike along the floor for some respite, because the broken rear mech was fouling the spokes. I got the spare bike from the pits and rode the last 500 metres of the race flat out, powered by pure fury and the chance to re-pass a couple of riders off before the finish. I finished 30th, down from around 15th at the end of the last lap. Not the end of the world, but a disappointing way to end a race.