The Regional VTT Championships brings riders from the Haute Vienne, Creuse, and Correze departments together. It’s a step up from the up from the Haute Vienne Departmental Champs where I came second, and it’s the final race to determine invitations for the National Championships in May.

I’ve been round the circuit a couple of weeks ago with my friends Davy and Charly. It’s very fast, rolling, and today it’s mostly dry. There’s a deep stream crossing, a muddy stream crossing, and a few wet bits, but it’s gonna be quick.

In the frame there’s Jean-Claude Sansonnet, wily old racer with 9 national podium placings, Jean-Claude Laskowski, ex national road-race champion, and champion contre-la-montre, and me. I’ve been told that on this ‘roulant’ circuit Laskowski is the man to fear.

Now. veteran A’s (40-50yrs) and veteran B’s (50yrs and over) race together, with the youngsters doing four laps while the rest of us do three. So it should be just a case of latching onto the youngsters and getting towed around. I’m on the grid behind Olivier Dessisard, he’s veteran A, and outright winner of the St Junien VTT race last season, so i’m in a good spot.

We’re away! Up through the chicanes to cross the line for the first time. There’s a slight bottleneck, we’re getting squeezed, I’m in about 9th going onto the short tarmac section, I’m OK. On to the first climb, getting held up by a couple of big riders from the Correze, I use the line that i’ve previously scouted to the left, I’m past them, and sitting on the back of the lead group. Both the Jean-Claudes are there.

Diving down across the loose rocky section to the first stream crossing and into the 200 metre porridge section, we all make it through without dismounting. A short climb, we’re still all together with a vet A in yellow forcing the pace. Down the roller-coaster singletrack we’re going incredibly fast, no margin for error here.

Braking hard we swing left along the valley. I’m on Sansonnet’s wheel here. He swithches me through a deep puddle, naughty! Through the deep river crossing and onto a short washed out climb, lots of erosion ruts and rocks, we sprint it and we’re gone. JC Sansonnet is allowing a gap to open. I jump past him as hard as I can, I don’t want to tow him along.

JC Laskowski is looking good, sat third in line of the leading group. I’m trying to get across the gap, but it ain’t happening. I cannot believe how fast I’m going, and how hard I’m pressing on the pedals and making no progress. Meanwhile JC Sansonnet has clawed his way back onto my wheel!

Now it’s JC Sansonnet who jumps me! This ain’t going to plan! As we cross the open field to go through to start the second lap I can see JC Laskowski sitting comfortably on the wheels of the leading vet A’s (that was my plan!), I can see JC Sansonnet working hard to try and get across, and I can see another veteran A closing on me from behind.

The vet A catches me, he’s making good progress, I try to lift my pace and get his wheel. I’m on, and just about holding him. He knows I’m a vet B, and doesn’t seem too bothered. Out through the muddy stream crossing and into the woods. We’re motoring, and we’re starting to get into tail enders from the race in fron’t. Then we catch Olivier Dessisard! I glance across, he looks in trouble (turns out he’d crashed and ended up pulling out). We push on.

Crossing the field to start the last lap things aren’t looking promising. JC Sansonnet is climbing out through the start as I’m dropping in. But, anything can happen, so I stick to the task, and give my all for the last lap.

Through the muddy section for the last time, I catch an edge, shoot myself to the side of the track, and my taxi gets a gap! I complete the lap alone, finishing third, some three minutes off the pace.

Analysis – What went wrong? Nothing, just lacking in a little top-end speed, and haven’t really regained the form I had before that chest infection a few weeks ago. The pace today was blisteringly fast, and the race was done and dusted in less than an hour and a quarter. I know what I need to do.

Meanwhile – In the ladies race Carla put in a fantastic ride to take second! Her improvement in form over the last few weeks has been astounding.

Best of all – Job done! As podium placed riders Carla and I have now recieved our official invites to represent the Limousin region at the National VTT Championships in May! A fantastic opportunity or what? 🙂

Thanks to – The race hosts Ambazac Sprinter Club the fabulous circuit, and superb organisation. Thanks also to Philippe at Photolaps for the superb pictures.

Wifey and I got his’n’hers trophies when we raced the Haute Vienne Departmental VTT Championships on Sunday. But racing can be cruel can’t it? 🙂

First the wife – This was her first race in years. See, she doesn’t really enjoy racing, she just likes riding her bike, something she’s very good at, and something that’s not gone unoticed. She was ‘leg hunted‘ then ‘sweet talked’ into racing by Theo, the president of a local club who loves to see women race!

Anyway, she put in some good training, and given the horrendous conditions on the day she did a storming ride to take 2nd place. She told me straight after that she’d hated every pedal turn, it was too hard, and she never wanted to race again. Then wha’d’yer know, by the end of the prize presentations Theo has worked his magic and she’s agreed to do the Regional Champs, the National Champs, hell! she’s even signed up for a 24hr race.

Now me – I really wanted to win this one, I really did. Gridded on the front row of the vets race (vet A >40 and vetB >50 raced together), they counted us down with 5 seconds to go, we were gone on 2. I led out of the field, riding hard. Into the woods my friend Eric Monjoffre came by, I grabbed his wheel. Out onto the road section 5 off us were clear. Jean Claude Sansonnet came by, I took a short rest on his wheel before jumping to be first off road.

Now we were into the meat of the first lap. I dismounted early for a muddy run up, I was still in the lead at the top. Back on the bikes there’s now three of us going clear. John Claude, Olivier Desissard (remember him? the scratch winner in the St Junien VTT race), and me. Out onto the open hillside, it’s tough, i’m trying to find traction, Jean Claude comes past followed by Olivier. I’m working hard.

At the top of the course I’m a couple of hundred meters off the lead. The rocky descents are covered in a film of mud but I’m motoring fast, and I’m getting it right. Along the short valley and back up into the arena. The commentator is saying something about Jean Claude. As I cross the line, there he is with his back tyre flat. I dunno how long it’ll take him to fix it, but I have to make the most of it. I try to lift my pace.

On the greasy, muddy, rooty, rocky, hateful second lap climb to the top of the course I’m aware that Marcel Buisson is not that far behind me. I can hear spectators willing him on. On long straights I can see him. I really need to get out of sight. It’s hurting.

On the run up back into the arena I can see quite a way back down the course, I’m clear. Going through the arena and out for the last lap someone shouts me that Olivier is not far in front. Out onto the road section for the final time, spectators are telling me that I’m clear, nobody in sight. But, I wanna make sure, and as I’ll never have to climb the hateful course again I attack it. I can see Olivier the leading vet A, looks like he’s about a minute ahead.

At last, the top of the course, all the hard work done. Onto the rocky descent for the last time. Skimming over the rocks I get a kick in my rear wheel, it steps out, and I feel a gentle bisou (kiss) on my rear rim. I cross my fingers, but it doen’t help. She’s flat! I don’t know whether to push on on the flat or stop and change it. My mind is made up for me when the tyre comes off the rim.

Time suddenly goes into warp speed, my hands turn to banannas, and it seems to be taking for ever to change my tube. I have my new tube in and I’m blowing it up when Marcel passes me. “Ce n’est pas vrai”, he says. With just enough air in I jump on my bike and give chase. Down the last desent like a nutter, but as I reach the final run up I can see Marcel disappearing over the top. I’m beat. Racing can be cruel can’t it? I’m first loser home in second place.

So what happened to Jean Claude? – well, he got his puncture fixed and got back in only to puncture again, and a third time. This is bad, because it means his selection for the national championships in May now rests on his performance in the regional championships in April. Racing can be cruel can’t it? Very!

About that puncture – I’ve been running tubeless tyres for a while now, and they have been great. However, being thorough in my preparation I set a spare pair of tubed wheels up with more knobby tyres in case of muddy conditions. It was only after my warn up, and at the last minute that I switched to the tubes. Even then, it’s only the second puncture i’ve had in a race ever. Doh!

Not forgetting – Many thank’s to everyone at Saint-Léger-la-Montagne VTT Rando Club for puuting on a great race. 🙂 ….and thanks to the Barboriers for the photos. 🙂

To celebrate the first anniversary of my return to racing I travelled all the way home to the UK to race where I started in the annual runners versus riders at Ludlow. You remember, 10 miles of lung-bursting strength sapping agony. You may also remember that I came second last year after leading for most of the race I was caught inside the last mile, thwarted by my lack of descending skills. Anyway, this year I was back, fitter, faster, lighter, and determined to do well.

Here’s how it went…
I attacked right from the start, to be first across the road into Oak Wood. I had a couple of riders show me their front wheel before I pushed on and was first to the top of the ramp with a small lead. Down the ramp towards the fire road and Marc Beaumont (yes, Marc Beaumont the Santa Cruz sponsored World Cup, world class downhiller) comes flying past. I give chase up the fire road. I’m towing John Gilbert (last years winner), and Gary Brain (last years 3rd) behind me. I pass Marc before we reach the first stream crossing and as I line myself up to go through he passes me again. He’s so fast through the stream there’s hardly a splash.

Up through the singletrack towards Chemical Bank I’m on Marc’s wheel. We re-cross the stream and onto the bank. Its far too steep to ride, so with bikes on shoulders, lungs burning and legs stinging we hike our way to the top. At the summit the four of us are clear, Marc, me, John, and Gary, in that order.

Dropping down toward the pipe track Marc opens a gap. I let John through, he knows this descent well and I feel safer tailing him. Gary tails me. By the time we spill out onto the pipe track Marc has a good 30secs lead. Using John to lead me through the rutted section at the start of the pipe track I then chase after Marc. Just before the first of the huge pipe track dips I re-take the lead.

Descending into the first dip as fast as I dare Marc comes past like I’m standing still. Onto the climb out of the dip i’ve lost 10 bike lengths but I’m gaining. I just get back on terms when we’re into the second dip, and I lose another 10. Bikes on shoulders again we stagger out onto the zigzag tarmac climb to the Ridgeway. John is back with me, and we chase Marc together.

On the long Ridgeway climb I leave John, and catch Marc to take the lead again. I’m trying hard now to get enough gap so that I won’t be caught again on the descent to Monstay Farm. At the top of the Ridgeway a quick glance back, I have a good gap, I hope to keep it. Down the rutted frozen Ridgeway to Five Ways is a nightmare. I make a couple of dabs to stay upright. At Five Ways I’m still clear. I mash on hard, down through Monstay Farm as fast as I dare, straight across the road (thanks marshals), and onto the climb of High Vinnals.

High Vinnals is a climb that gets steeper as you go up. Middle ring at first, then Granny, then running. I keep having a sneaky look back. Nobody in sight. As I crest the climb I take a good look back, still clear. Down across Climbing Jack moor, rattling over the frozen ground. Going into the trees for the descent to the Middle Road, still nobody in sight behind. I’m beginning to think I might have it.

Down to the middle road, a 200 metre dash then dive right. Still no one there. Along the rutted frozen track to Sunny Dingle. With 100 metres of track left Marc comes flying past fast, really fast. By the time we cross the fire road and start to race along the valley he’s opened up a 10 second gap! I chase hard along the valley road, and at the hairpin into the stream crossing I’ve caught him.

Back up the ramp I take the lead one more time. As I go past Marc I clang up a gear and push on as hard as I possibly can. I need as much of a buffer as I can before the final downhill dash to the finish. Marc goes up a gear to and tries to respond. At the top of the ramp it is me who has the 10 second lead.

Diving down left, I go as fast as I can, taking as much room as I can. With 300 metres to go Marc squeezes past Rizla close (you couldn’t fit a Rizla in the gap). At the log dismount I’m on his wheel, right on it, but we’re at the line. I’m beaten again!

Analysis– I’m disappointed not to win. If only the circuit had been 300 metres shorter or even 300 metres longer where it flattens out. I’m full of self-recrimination. Surely I could have found another few seconds from somewhere, did I run hard enough here, did I push myself there etc.

However, I’ve only just been beaten by a world class rider at the top of his game. He thanks me for a good hard race. It can only be a handful of riders that can say that they battled with Marc Beaumont man on man. Add to that the fact that the two of us beat the time set by the fastest runners. The first time that the runners have been beat in as long as anyone can remember. Maybe that’s not so bad.

By the way, Marc is running a downhill coaching day in conjunction with Pearce Cycles on 5th January Maybe I should book myself a place on it 🙂

I’m woken at 4am by the sound of the rain. Peering through the window I can see that it’s hammering down. It just can’t rain much harder than it is. I lie awake for the next two hours listening to the rain, and wondering if the event will even be on, or if i’ll even be able to get to Flavignac. We’ve been having heavy rain showers over the last few days, and more rain is not gonna help.

By 6am I’m up, and having breakfast. The rain has eased, and I’m looking forward to a wet race. Carla thinks I’m mad. Not mad, just compulsive. By 7am I’m on my way. It’s starting to get light. Over the high ground near Cognac le Foret I’m looking out on a huge storm filled sky. But, there are gaps when the sun shines through!

Down the last few miles I’m looking for signs that something is happening. Wondering why I’m not part of a convoy of vehicles on their way to the race. Arriving at Flavignac, the signs are good. There’s a few riders unloading bikes in the car park. There’s activity at the Salle d Fete, riders signing on!

There’s a cold blustery wind blowing, a thorough warm up is going to be essential. I’m on my bike well before 8:30 ready for the 8:50 start. At first there’s only three of us riding up and down the start straight, but as start time approaches there’s loads. All the usual suspects are there. 5 minutes to go, and the organiser calls us to the start line. I manage to get a place on the front row. A few words from the promoting club president and we’re on our way!

Hammering up the tarmac and onto the grass. I’m in the first ten, it’s very wet, there’s a bit of shoving and some friendly banter 🙂 Back onto the tarmac to race out of town, I shift to a bigger gear and kick. My chain starts to jump! It’s a new chain, and I had tested it. It’s jumping on the lower end of the block (smaller sprockets). There’s no debris in it. I shift back up to find a gear that works and spin. This is not a great start.

Crossing a small wooden bridge and the St Junien rider in front of me goes down hard! He’s OK, but he’s holding us up, there’s no way around. He’s back on his bike in 10 seconds, but now there’s a 10 second gap to make up. I press on, my gears jump.

Into the real off-road stuff now. Long rocky climbs cascading with water, like riding up a stream bed. Long descents with huge puddles and mud. I’m holding my place, but i’ve lost contact with the leaders. We’re firing down a huge hillside, rocks and ruts hidden by water, the blustery wind not making it any easier to hold line, and now it starts to rain. A sharp left, I grab my brakes, they hardly work, I overshoot, but manage to catch myself on the edge of the trail. This is not going well.

Just when things weren’t going well, they went worse. On a sharp bend I catch a glimpse of my arch-rival Jean-Claude Sansonnet, he’s almost on me. I spend the next twenty minutes trying to lose him and I cant. We pull out onto a tarmac climb, I lift the pace, but I’m going nowhere. Jean-Claude Sansonnet comes past me. For the next twenty minutes it’s Jean-Claude Sansonnet trying to lose me. We’re back in the hills, now it’s raining hard, very hard, it’s turning to hail, I’m cold, very cold, and slowly, very slowly, he’s moving away.

To sum up, at this point – I’m cold, my feet and hands are numb, my back brake doesn’t work, my gears keep jumping, and I’m taking a pasting. Now don’t get me wrong, don’t for one second think that I’m complaining or not enjoying this. I wouldn’t swap a moment of it. I’m privileged, one way or another I’ve come a long way to be here today.

I’m working as hard as I can, but it’s still not enough to catch Jean-Claude, or to keep warm. As I get colder I make the descision to stop and put my cape on. I’m throwing 30 seconds away. Cape on, I push on, trying to limit my loses. I can still see Jean-Claude up ahead. Over the last few kms I get closer, then I lose a bit, and that’s how it ends.

11th place, 10 minutes off the pace, and 40 seconds down on the first Vet B, Jean-Claude. Some 45 minutes later I’m collecting my prize for second Vet B, standing on the podium next to Jean-Claude. It’s a tough one.

It’s the 16th running of the ‘Glovemakers’ mountainbike race at St Junien. It’s a comparatively flat, non technical 40km race that is usually run off at blistering speed. Here’s how it went…

The start – It’s about 3km of tarmac before we cross a ditch into the first off-road section. It’s one bike wide going in! I’m guessing that there’s gonna be loads of big roadies blasting the tarmac section and it’s gonna be chaos.

I’ve had a good warm up, and get a good spot on the front line for the start. The organiser keeps us on the start line for 10 minutes! He’s not happy that some riders have not respected the start line, and he calls all the promoting clubs riders to the front of the grid! OK now I’m on the third line.

The Off – They do the “3-2-1” thing, and we’re away. Diving around the St Junien riders I’m second in line as we hit the first climb. We don’t seem to be going that fast, and I’m worried that we’re gonna get swamped. A couple of riders put in a surge, but I’m able to cover it. Now we are on the top road, a quick look over my shoulder, we’re fairly lined out, I wait. 500m to go to the bottleneck, a big rider attacks, I go after him. We are almost there, and he’s dying, I glance over my shoulder, here comes the charge. I didn’t really want to be in this position, but there’s no choice. I jump hard, and i’m first off-road.

The Escape – Riding the first off-road section blind with a couple of hundred riders breathing down my neck. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m listening hard, there’s no one right on my wheel, but they’re not far off. Back onto the tarmac, a big rider from the Ambazac Sprinter Club comes past. I get his wheel.

My old racing buddy Spesh (Jean Phillipe) arrives at the front. I sus that he did’nt arrive there just then for no good reason. We go left onto a steep narrow rooty bank. Jean Phillipe takes the lead, I’m third in. As we power up over roots, it’s tricky and I can hear riders behind slipping and unclipping. Jean Phillipe can hear it too, and he puts the hammer down. Ambazac is chasing hard, but he’s letting a gap grow. I can’t get past because there’s now way of knowing what’s under the leaves off the racing line. A short section of fire road. I jump around Ambazac, and a Nieul CC rider (Olivier) jumps around me. Into the singletrack again. In no time Olivier has caught Jean Phillipe, i’m dangling. We’re climbing out of a valley, short ramps and banks, but all the time trending uphill. It’s agony, I’m making painfully slow progress. Onto tarmac again, the gradient eases. It’s now or never, I give all i’ve got, and join the two leaders. A quick glance back, there’s no one in sight.

A big roadie arrives – It takes me a couple of minutes to recover, but I’m OK. We’re going pretty quick, Olivier seems quite happy to do the lions share of the work. I’m starting to think I can make the podium when a big roadie joins us. I don’t know that he’s a roadie, I’m just guessing that his is by his size, and the way he is on his bike. He’s strong, and on the tarmac sections he goes to the front and tries to ride us off his wheel! It’s like sitting behind a derny.

With four of us in the group someone is going to be disappointed. I’m looking for signs of weakness in the other three. Olivier is looking comfortable, though when our roadie jumps he seems a bit slow to respond. Jean Phillipe looks good too, though I notice him fighting a bit on some of the steeper ramps. Roadie is strong, young, and keen, though he doesn’t seem so sure of himself in the singletrack. Surely I can beat one of them to get on the podium.

Shakedown 1 – With about an hour done, we’re heading back in the general direction of St Junien. Time is running out. Roadie has just put in a couple of hard attacks. Jean Phillipe is waving me to go through. We turn into a narrow windy chemin, I take the lead, and turn it on. I go hard, very hard, stamping up each rise, and pushing on. The chemin is like a roller coaster with some tricky holes, roots, and ruts all cleverly concealed with a carpet of leaves. Back onto the tarmac, I glance over my shoulder. Olivier is on my wheel, he looks fine, Jean Phillipe is next, fine, but roadie is off. I keep up the pressure and were into the next chemin for more of the same. By the time we come back out roadie is nowhere to be seen. I’m keen for him not to get back on, Olivier must be too because he goes to the front to keep the pace high. We can’t have more than a few km left to do now, and were flying along.

Shakedown 2 – We cross under the main auto-route which means we are about 5km from home. Olivier is going for it, we’re just hanging on. On the final descent Olivier drops like a stone and is gone! I’m chasing hard, with Jean Phillipe chasing me. Along the River Glane valley the track is a little wider. I move across and Jean Phillipe comes through. I can see the finish now through the trees up above us. We burst out of the trees onto the final climb, it’s steep and gravelly, I’m stuck in my middle ring. Jean Phillipe kicks hard, so hard that he loses traction, I pull alongside, then slowly pass him. By the time we crest the climb I have twenty metres. I clang up a couple of gears and kick again. It’s agony. On to the tarmac in the last 500m, a quick glance, he’s not there, I look again in case i’ve missed him. One final ramp to the line.

2nd rider home! Gotta be first ‘Veteran B’ 🙂 1hr 34mins.

Analysis – It felt fantastic to be at the front of the race. To be there doing it, making a contribution rather than being on the recieving end all the time. Yes it hurt, yes it was hard, but if it wasn’t hard there’d be no point doin’ it.

Back in the car park I took a look at Jean Phillipe’s bike. His tyres were no harder or softer than mine. He was running a Schwalbe Nobby Nic. I was running Hutchinson Piranhas. Maybe I was lucky to be stuck in the middle ring on that last climb. Maybe the shallower tread on my Piranhas hooked up better in the shallow gravel on that last climb. I dunno.

Later that evening I studied the results, then did a search through the results for last year’s UFOLEP events. Turns out that Olivier has just turned 40, so he’s ‘veteran A’. Last year he was second in the regional championships. Meanwhile my old mate Jean Phillipe (Spesh) was the departmental and regional champion. Good company!

I’m thrilled with this result, and can’t believe my form. But like I said to my friend Theodore (same age as me), “S’il est possible à moi, il est possible à toi également!”.

Meanwhile – Carla is first woman home in the 40kms rando! She doesn’t like racing.