“I don’t give a **** where you come, just don’t spanner yourself.” MrsMakingUpTheNumbers’ parting words as she goes off to work on Friday morning. And she means it. Now some 33 weeks pregnant, we’ve finally booked the “babymoon” (it’s like a honeymoon but before you give birth) she’s talked incessantly about for the last two months. “You’ve been to the Alps twice, Portugal and Italy since we last had a proper holiday and this might be the last chance I get for quite a while…” I’ve heard it so many times I can repeat it parrot fashion. Anyway, we’re off to Nice on Wednesday for a week and I have to be on that plane.
To be fair, she’s got a point: me and Glencoe have a bit of history. The last time I raced here was the 2015 SDA and an ill-fated attempt at some doubles on Saturday afternoon left me with a torn liver and 9 days in hospital. Whilst the wounds have healed I’ve never been allowed to forget that we celebrated our 3rd wedding anniversary on Ward 13 at Huddersfield Royal Infirmary.
Anyway, I’m back in Glencoe and my frame is back from Nicolai so I’m on a proper bike as well. With Revolution Bike Park Racing team mate Binnsy unsuccessfully dodging flying pints of piss at The Courteeners concert in Manchester, I’m supposed to be flying solo this weekend, but I’ve been on a mission of mercy to help Uncle Albert out. His van’s broken* and so I’ve picked his bike up en route and he’s coming up from Glasgow in his Lotus. Hmmm.
The Glencoe black has a bit of a reputation for being super tough. In part this stems from the 2010 SDA, which is infamously known as the “Glencoe Massacre” (look it up on YouTube – Glencoe Downhill Mountainbike Crash Video – 3 minutes of people stacking it on one section alone). Rumours abound that after that race no organisers would go near the black again until they sanitised it a bit – and sanitise it they have. The rock section that claimed the majority of the victims that day has been removed, but it’s still brutally steep with boulders everywhere and I love it.
That reputation is probably one factor in why there are only 160 riders here. There are other factors though: The World Cup is up here next week and it’s a good distance to travel for anyone south of Glasgow. Add to that the sheer number of enduro and downhill races taking place at the minute and you’ve hit the nail squarely on the head. What makes this a bit of a shame is that the track isn’t a sprint through some woods where the result will be decided by tenths or hundredths: it’s a challenge from start to finish, one that even keeps World Cup riders honest. Then there’s the weather. In the wet, Glencoe has to be one of the most miserable places on earth – the chairlift is open to the elements and there’s nothing nice about being dragged up to the top with a hoolie blowing in your face. But the forecast is pretty good and in the sunshine Glencoe is glorious. With the uplift usually being the biggest bugbear at UK races, that chairlift is a bloody dream.
When I arrive on Friday it’s gorgeous and it remains that way until 3pm on Saturday when the rains come. By this point the majority of people have got five or six runs in and they call it a day, whilst a hardy few carry on. Along with the rains come the midges and we’re being eaten alive, even the Skin So Soft isn’t working.
Despite the track being a bit tamer than 2010 there are still quite a lot of casualties and if you look across the car park on Saturday evening it’s easy to spot who’s had a visit to the medics as they’re sporting large white plasters. Pete Walton has had a big one at the bottom of the track resulting in a hospital visit and 7 stitches in his knee. Debs Primrose has done similar at the top and initially thought she’d broken her arm but it turns out she’s OK and she should be fine for the World Cup next week. “Pinball” seems to be the word of the weekend. There are so many big rocks that if you make a mistake you’re knocked off line, leaving you “pinballing” through the next section.
By Sunday morning the overnight rain has cleared and it’s another scorcher. The rain has in fact been a blessing, dampening down the track a bit and we find it much grippier on our final couple of runs before racing starts.
With the SDA’s “best of two race runs” format my plan was to get a safe one in first. At some point between lining up with the other Vets and pedalling out of the start gate though I changed my mind. Instead, I convinced myself that if I just did one run as fast as I could I probably wouldn’t have to do another. What a fabulous idea: a definite winner. The run lasted some 20 seconds. Having pedalled into the double at the top and soared over it I picked up a huge amount of speed, but no sooner had I thought “Christ I’m moving” than I’d lost both wheels in some marbles on the side of the track. It all happened so fast that I still had both hands on the bars and both feet clipped in as the forward momentum dragged my head along the ground. So that was that. No serious injuries but an ankle the size of a balloon and the indignity of a DNF and the chairlift down to the bottom.
Without intending to, Uncle Albert executes my strategy brilliantly. He’s put in a 3:04 which puts him in 5th and with that, he’s done; later telling me he was “bloody terrified” at the top and he didn’t want to put himself through it again. I’m back up for another run though and with two DNF’s staring me in the face I just put in a very steady 3:10 which brings me home in 7th. It’s 10 seconds off where I want to be but I’ll be on the plane to Nice, so swings and roundabouts. Orange SueMe’s Chris Whitfield takes the win by 2 seconds from Alastair MacLennan with Steve Cousins in 3rd.
Team Orange SueMe had an amazing weekend with Simon Cheung taking the win in Masters and Marc Cunningham coming home 3rd in Elite. South Africa’s Stefan Garlicki finished 2nd in that category with Ben Cathro taking the win.
With all the talk at the BDS a fortnight ago being about 29ers, it turns out Euan Thomson was way ahead of all the factory teams. At the back end of last year, he crafted some custom dropouts for his 650b Commencal Supreme, threw on some 180mm travel Manitou Dorado forks and 29er wheels and BOOM he’s rocking his way to 6th place in Expert. DH Farm’s Tom Coles took that category by nearly three seconds though whilst also going fastest through the speed trap. Other stand out performances go to Zander Millar-Todd who won Juvenile by ten seconds; Mikayla Parton who won Senior Women by 25 seconds and FMD / Transition’s Jamie Edmondson who won Youth by nearly five seconds. Jamie’s 2:16.38 would’ve been enough to take the win in Juniors, Seniors and Masters, quite a ride.
Before I started racing DH I thought it might be a bit elitist and a bit cliquey. Sure, the riders take it pretty seriously but if anyone’s thinking of having a go but fearing that they might not be good enough or that it might be a bit embarrassing, the SDA series is the place to start. “The thing we all have in common is the sensation; we’re all going as fast as we can” multiple World Champion Alastair Maclennan tells me. And he’s right, it doesn’t actually matter if you’re chasing two minutes or trying to get down in under four – it’s the same feeling for everyone and unless you’re Danny Hart or Aaron Gwin there’s always someone faster than you and everyone knows that. I met a guy called Steven Bowie this weekend who was competing in his first DH race. He was absolutely buzzing because his second run was 16 seconds quicker than his first. He assured me he’d be back for more.
The takeaways I have from the last two weeks are that I’m not crossing the line and gasping for air like last season because I’ve worked pretty hard on my fitness and I’m not just concentrating on “getting down” like the season before, but aside from that brief rush of blood on Sunday I’m just riding at 85% and making sure I don’t hurt myself. It’s not the best strategy for racing really but it’s the reality of running your own business, having a family and a busy life. It’s fun, I’m enjoying myself but I’m a bit frustrated. The last time I feel like I really went for it was at the Masters Worlds in Italy last September. Expressing this frustration to MrsMakingUpTheNumbers on Sunday evening, she asks “well what have you got to save yourself for after the Worlds in Andorra in a few weeks?” Apparently, an optimistic “Nothing, I can definitely go for it there” isn’t the right answer when you’ve got a baby on the way. “Jesus George, I despair”.
*unsure if van is actually broken. Sneaking suspicion Albert may have just wanted to arrive in the Lotus like a pop star
