Race Blog – 2016 Ard Rock Enduro – Swaledale, Yorkshire

It seems like nearly a year has passed since I woke at 5am eagerly anticipating the release of Ard Rock 2016 tickets. That’s because it WAS nearly a year ago! I logged onto my iPad and pressed refresh on the tickets page exactly as the clock ticked over to 6am. What ensued can only be described as a melee, as tickets were available, then sold out, only to become available again a few minutes later. I was so desperate to get tickets for 2016 and yet the process was so stressful and frustrating. Luckily i was persistent and managed to have a successful transaction before I had to leave for work with a sore ‘refresh’ finger. 

Santa Cruz’s EWS rider. Jamie Nicholl joined us for the Friday practise loop.

 
Until now, I hadn’t ridden in North Yorkshire. I dont know why, perhaps it just isn’t as well publicised as other English riding spots like the Peak District and Lake District, so I didn’t know what to expect as I headed north on a sunny Thursday evening. As I left the A1 and headed towards the spine of the country, the Pennines, I entered some remote looking moorland, some of which I had seen before whilst on exercise with the Territorial Army. As I arrived at the postcode provided for the event location I saw the dominant Fremington Edge, stretching off into the distance with grassy slopes, crags and scree fields aplenty. It was certainly aesthetically pleasing.

Army Enduro Team riders arrived throughout the Thursday night and first thing Friday morning, travelling from around the country, looking for the big red Army gazebo which indicated our location next to the main arena. The best thing about the forces is the camerarderie, no matter how few times you’ve met someone or how long it’s been since you last caught up, the banter and friendship is always strong. This event was a mid season addition to the race calendar. An opportunity for a relaxed racing environment and a couple of beverages thrown in for good measure.

A colourful flock of Birds.

The three closest stages were opened up for practise on Friday. Once everyone had arrived, we registered and began the pedal up towards stage 1. Initially up a disgustingly steep tarmac’d road and then onto grassy moorland, it was an absolute lung buster. Egos were definately at the fore front of people’s minds are they struggled up the climb, desperatly wanting to stop and push, but bravado ensured the legs kept spinning. Eventually arriving at the start of stage 1, we needed a game plan. Without the option to section stages down and session them to identify racing lines, we attempted to ride the stages slowly (ish) to try and spot the lines. Difficult on 3+ minute stages and when there were so many features and line options on each stage, but some familiarity was better than none. It was more a case of looking to spot where time might be lost rather that where it could be gained. The obvious points were the Alpine style switch backs and slow sections crossing through walls. Also knowing when to pedal hard and when to just relax, pump and keep off the brakes made a big difference. The practise loop, stages 1, 2 & 5, was still 12 miles long with 2,300ft of climbing. We had plenty of time to take in another lap, but we figured time was better spent with bike cleaning, faffing with psi and resting the legs. Of course the bar would also be open by the time we got back down!

On saturday morning there was a palpable buzz, riders waking up to the sound of the commentator, having camped beneath the stunning scenery, surrounded by thousands of like minded people and with the anticipation of riding some awesome trails. The weather would turn out to be friend and foe, clear skies with a mild breeze gave stunning views and nice dry trails, but the forecast was for temperatures to rise, so riders would need to stay hydrated to be able to complete the full loop. I rose early to see off the other Army riders at 0810. Sadly I wouldn’t be racing alongside them this weekend. We signed up for the Ard Rock way back in October 2015, long before I had been selected to represent the Army for the 2016 season. So today I would be riding with my buddies from Mega Ride On MTB Club, setting off at 0955. Due to a busy race schedule I have hardly ridden with these boys this year, so it was really good to catch up with them. Afterall, they taught me how to ride, not in the traditional way, but by relentlessly taking the piss out of me for riding slowly. Banter and verbal abuse is an incredible motivator!

The trails were dry and running fast. Some areas had evolved since the practise run, scree and kitty litter being shifted into ruts and dry mud turning to fluid dust. The threat of punctures from the multitude of jagged rocks was always there and sadly a few friends succumbed to them. On every stage you would see several riders pulled up fixing their bikes, so the rest of us were relieved to avoid the dreaded hiss. The five stages were all relatively similar, but shared the feeling of natural, steep, gnarly British riding, without having to force the ‘natural’ theme like a lot of Enduro races do.

Stage 1 started with some open grassy sections, but before you knew it you had your seatpost up and were spinning up a brief climb and into a relatively flat section, soon enough though gravity again gave an assiting hand, taking you down on a meandering run that eventually took you into the tree section. In the wet this would be a highly technical muddy and rooty section, but in the dry could be attacked at full chat. A few of us got caught up behind a train of middle aged gentlemen seemingly out for an afternoon roll around the countryside, none of whom were interested in shouts of “pedal”, or “rider” from those if us who were actually racing. This was the penalty of being able to ride with your mates and not being seeded.

Stunning views. But they could only be appreciated during the transitions.

The pedal up to Stage 2 was even worse than the initial climb. My mate Loz had a point to prove though and was hell bent on pedalling up the entire thing. Something reserved only for super heroes and XC world cup riders. Yet somehow Loz managed it, the bloody lunatic! The rest of us mere humans opted just to push, afterall there were no prizes for fastest pedal up the transition. The stage itself started with a brief pedal, but quickly descended into steep, Alpin style switchbacks before opening out and allowing you to pick up speed riding accross the contours. You had to be fast, but wary of those ever present ‘sniper’ stones, lurking in wait to bite at your tyres. The stage ended with a section that was difficult to keep your speed and flow, you had to pump a lot and avoid stalling on one of the many big rocks in the multitude of rock gardens. I passed a couple of riders on this stage who very professionally moved asisde as I approached them.

As we began the transition to stage 3, I foolishly thought to myself, “well done Greeny, two stages down, no crashes and no mechanicals”. Low and behold, the Gods of bikes were listening and somehow Lee and I collided, resulting in Lee being jettisoned into the scrub and me with a bruised hand and forearm. We dropped down to a river and then began the neverending climb up to the top of the other side of the valley. We passed a pub en route, but as we were so late starting we felt we didnt have the time to stop and chill for a bit. Stage 3 was pretty much 100% stone. Boulders, rocks, pebbles, kitty litter and a hard pack fire road sprint finish. I nearly came a cropper as I came over the brow of one particular feature, wherre the trail also turned to the right, I had a complete lack of traction, followed by an “oh god!” and sticking my foot out. Luckily there was a photographer present to capture my amateur moment. At the end of the stage was the feed station, we hastily took on extra water and scoffed haribo and energy bars like naughty children raiding their parents cupboards.

It was a little loose in places!

The heat certainly took it’s toll in dehydrating you and causing premature cramping and fatigue. The transition to Stage 4 was when it started to affect the legs. At this point I was just riding with Alec and Lee as the other MRO guys had dropped back during earlier transitions. Its great to ride with mates, but there comes a point when you have to think about yourself. We each had to tackle the final few transitions at our own pace, which meant we were a little strung out, but always regrouped before each stage started.

The race loop ended up being 26 miles and 4,500ft of climbing, a mean day out on the hills!

I was very happy with my final result (188/1736 five stage finishers overall standings, or 72/398 five stage finishers in the Masters category). One thing that was apparent was that not everybody was there to race. Some were just out for a weekend riding with their mates, taking the opportunity to escape family life and ride some gnarly trails that would normally be closed to the public. This was to the detriment of the racers, on satge1 I got caught behind a train of 6 riders bimbling along the trail, completely disinterested in moving aside for a faster rider. On each of the other stages I overtook 3 or 4 other riders who had kindly let me past after shouting “rider, when its safe”. This was the downside to unseeded races, but the benefit was being able to race alongside your mates.

There was fun to be had in places!

Now it was all down to the saturday evening entertainment. The bike was washed and lubed, the beer was flowing and there was a great mood from all of the riders. Sadly we heard of a couple of riders having to be airlifted off the mountain, but that wasn’t going to dampen the party mood. There was live music, food and beer aplenty. You could strike up conversation with whomever you stood next to as you all sgared a common bond of bikes, it was gone midnight when i crawled into my van. Unfortunatley it was about 3am when i had to crawl back out of it. The wind had picked up and the tentate within the camping field was taking a hammering. The Army gazebo was robustly pegged into the ground, but it risked being damaged such was the power in the gusts, so we drunkenly disassembled it before retiring once more. 

It was gone 10am before i woke again, dry mouthed and sweating. The sun was back out and my navy blue van was rapidly increasing in temperature. It was time for a coffee, some breakfast and start the long drive home. I had had a great weekend of amazing trails and wicked company. I can’t wait until next year!