Tom Simpson takes an involuntary ride on the wild side.
Words Tom Simpson
In my travels, I’ve been fortunate to experience the travelling circus that is the UCI World Cup series. While I am far from the seasoned veteran that some mechanics may be, it was a great insight into the fast-paced and ever-changing world of the ‘go fast’ men and women.
Fresh and interesting tools were straight out the box. Prototype things, half sheathed in every pit, just waiting to be deployed at the right moment, away from the pesky cameras of fans and media. Bikes you could eat your dinner off, even if it had been the grottiest of weather days. Even coffee machines had been modified, some sporting their particular manufacturer’s suspension valving for a smoother brew.
The most fascinating thing for me, though, was how friendly and helpful everyone was to each other. There might be race results on the line, but if you had a problem, it wasn’t uncommon for other teams to lend some parts of equipment to another, so their race weekend wasn’t a disaster… a first-hand experience when my team ran out of spare rims! Aaron Gwin will never know we borrowed some of his, but if you are reading this, big guy, I’d like to personally say thank you!
While there’s a lot of hanging about in car parks or meticulously checking bikes, you do get the odd chance to experience the outside world. After arriving for a round in Val di Sol and fed up of watching our superstar ride downhill all weekend, Mahris, Catt and I decided to get a few bikes together and set off on an after-work adventure.
Catching up with my brother for the night and some German tipples, we were warned that the area had reports of hikers and bikers going missing. I just shook it off as him being overly concerned and reassured him we wouldn’t get into any silly situations.
After getting some bikes and sharing out the meagre kit and provisions, we set off on a circular route around the back of a col that would see us descend into the top of the bike park for a hugely extended downhill run.
It wasn’t until we started getting to the end of the tree line, heading into the Alpine highs, that we started seeing danger signs. To keep safe, it was advised to make as much noise as possible. However, the signs were so sun-damaged we couldn’t make out what these potential noise-hating death bringers might be. Some retired, gun-toting pensioners, perhaps?
We reached a hikeabike section, shouldered the steeds and began huffing and grunting our way up, all the while laughing and joking about the potential hazards we may encounter. About 100m was all that separated us from the top to pass over the summit, and to start our (hopefully) amazing descent. Before the final push, I decided to stop and take in the surroundings of the stunning Alpine meadow that reminded me of bear country. Which was exactly what I saw next.
As the other two walked on, I saw what I thought were big boulders rolling down the hill towards us at an alarming rate. However, they would stop suddenly, move a bit left or right and then start coming towards me again. It seemed unreal that these huge beasts could manoeuvre so fast. I quickly realised this was a mother and cub and the former is always very protective of their young offspring! I called out just in time for Mahris to catch sight of them entering the woods close by! As close as we were to the top, the decision was made that getting eaten alive was not worth riding bikes for, and an about-turn was made. However, it was quickly pointed out that bears could attack from the side through foliage. So, to make for our best chance of survival, we would all have to sing the Proclaimers ‘500 Miles’ at full volume for the whole return leg. I HATE that song, but it was my favourite then!
As soon as we got back to the fire road, we pedalled as fast as we dared, only mildly concerned, when Mahris had a panic attack spotting a bunny out of the corner of their eye, mistaking it for our hungry assailant!
We felt like right idiots returning to camp, as in the rush to get out on the bikes, none of us had taken in the bike park branding and general town vibe, which was one of their neighbouring Yogi Bears with life-size statues and pictures everywhere.
I’d argue those bears helped us reach World Cup speeds ourselves that night.
