Reconnaissance de circuit VTT Departmental 2009

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The VTT Departmental Championships are being held in St Junien this year, just 10mins away. Plus, just like any other year, the host club gives riders a couple of chances to make a reconnaissance of the circuit 3 and 1 week ahead of the race. This is great because it you can tailor your last minute training to suit.

The first lap is ridden en masse

Last Saturday was the first of two dates for St Junien, and as it was dry, I went along, yeah, so did just about everyone!

First lap is ridden en masse, with St Junien riders explaining anything that needs explaining. After that you’re free to do as many laps as you like.

Right, the start is fast, very fast. There’s a 200metre straight away before doubling back along the top of a steep escarpment. Next a fast descent down to the riverside, we’ll be like lemmings on the day.

Heading downstream over fast rocky ground, then sharp right past some old mills, then hook left, right, and onto the first climb. It’s not steep, but at race pace it’s gonna be tough, and lasts about 3 minutes. There’s a brief respite before climbing again. A short descent, then 90 left onto a very steep ramp 100metres to the top. Traction is key here, lose it and you’ll waste a lot of energy. Over the top, through a dip and onto the second ramp, not quite as steep, but slightly longer.

Still climbing, but only just, we cross the bridge over the Limoges-Angoulême road. A sharp right, another short climb, and we’re at the top of the circuit. The next few kms are mostly downhill, and very fast. Arriving back at the river, we turn right then wind our way along the valley side on sweet singletrack.

At the top of thye circuit. All downhill from here!

Almost home now, just two steep ramps to complete the 9km lap. These are tough. You wouldn’t want to be in a ‘head to head’ here. That would hurt!

So, sighting lap done, I do the next 2 laps with Jerome and the flying Baborier brothers. These boys are fast, I’m sure we’re going faster than race pace. Yeah, we must be, ‘cos the third lap the pace is a bit more sensible.

To sum the course up. Very fast, not overly technical, though you’ll need to be skillful to ride it superfast. It’s dry at the moment, and due to the rocky ground it could take a fair bit of rain and still be quick. A course for the strong and the brave. 🙂

Wednesday afternoon training with the FFC

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So, it’s Wednesday afternoon, and I’m on my way to meet Eric and Max at St Brice, then we’re gonna ride the 25km up to Couzeix to either ‘kick ass’, or ‘get ass kicked’ on the Limoges clubs training bash. Yep, every Wednesday afternoon riders from clubs on the North side of Limoges get together to ‘get it on’. Mostly riders who race FFC. These guys are serious!

I’m not feeling too confident today, and on the way there I’m happy to let young Max do most of the work while I save myself. My confidence sinks even lower when we arrive at the meeting place. There must be at least 60 riders, easily enough to make a race. There’s a few old duffers like me, but some of them look like pro’s, young guys with highlights in their perfect hair, on the latest bikes, full team kit. They look fast standing still.

We set off at 2pm sharp. I automatically shift into survival mode, and get right down near the front, it’ll be easier and safer there. The pace is easy, I’m OK. I see a few riders I know, manoeuvre alongside, shake hands, exchange greetings, enquire about form. Nobody admits to having any. 😉

Right on the front I spot Stephane from the Nieul. Seen him in action loads of times, a stylish courageous rider who’ll never give in. Saw him win the Departmentals last year. Attacked almost from the gun in the poring rain. Rode the whole race off the front. Almost collapsed when he crossed the line. He’s tough, and serious. Recently back from a training camp in Spain. He’s also an expert crashmeister like me. Can’t understand why he doesn’t wear a helmet.

I don’t know where we’re going to day, but we start off through Veyrac, then Oradour sur Glane. Maybe we’re going over the Monts de Blond. I hope so, and I hope not in equal amounts. I hope so because it’s beautiful, and I hope not because there’s some climbs that will blow the group apart.

We don’t turn for the Monts, instead we go straight on for Montrollet. The pace has been very sensible up to now, but after we cross the St Junien – Bellac road someone flicks a switch, and now we’re flying. I’m so glad I stayed near the front. We’re really motoring along, there’s a group of six driving.

Things calm down a little, and we settle into brisk rather than balls out. Through Bussiere-Boffy, Nouic, then back towards Mortemart. Now, we’re on our way home, direction Blond, but whichever way we go there’s gonna be some climbing. There’s some new faces at the front, and they’re starting to push the pace.

There’s a long drag on the road to Vaulry, we’re on it, it’s tough, riders are going backwards. Over the top, a quick glance around, the once tight bunch has been stretched out. There’s some regrouping on the descent. On to the next climb, this one is a bit steeper, as it starts to bite I get as close to the front as I can. The pressure goes on, perceived effort rating where I’m sat is 9/10. It’s tough. Last 100metres to the top, there’s a bit of a surge, ouch…….. and there’s no let up! Double ouch!

A quick glance around, there’s only about 15 riders here, and so it continues, and each drag, climb, or slight rise in the road the screw is turned a little tighter. I’ve gone from knowing roughly where we are to not having a clue. I’m too busy surviving. Another climb, the pressure goes on, not far to the top, almost there, we turn a corner, and the road goes up again. Cracks are starting to appear, I’m fourth in line on the wheel of Stephane. The leading rider kicks and takes number two with him, a small gap appears. 50metres to the top Stephane lifts the pace to join them, I’m 10 metres off his wheel. Behind me, there’s nobody. I really, really, don’t want to be dropped here. Over the crest and onto the downhill I get the bike moving. The three in front freewheel on the descent, I keep pedaling, and I just get onto the back as we hit the next ramp. Luckily for me this one is short.

I know where we are now. We’re on the road from Thouron towards Limoges. I’ve ridden this road a few times. I should be OK, there’s just one more climb to make. We’re hammering along, I’m hanging in there, still on the wheel of Stephane. Assuming he’s on normal gearing he’s shoving 52*12. This is the hardest I’ve ridden for a long time. On to the last climb, it’s not as steep as I remember it, which is good, but we hardly even change gear or tempo, which is bad. C’mon legs don’t desert me now. The leading rider jumps out of the saddle, and as if synchronized we all do. One last effort, it’s agony!

They sit up. That’s it. Job done. I made it. Yeah, I know it’s not a race, and I know that even if it had of been I wouldn’t have made the podium, but I’m ecstatic mate. All those riders who set out, and just four left, and I’m one of them. Yeah, I know I didn’t do any work, and just hung on, but don’t spoil it for me!!! As we roll back towards Limoges in the late afternoon sun I’m feeling pleased. All I gotta do now is ride home.

Almost home, I’m running on empty, and I’ve got more than 5 hours in the saddle. It crosses my mind to text Carla to come and rescue me. Nah, that’d be soft. 🙂

Sud Ouest Bosozoku Triples Club Bordeaux Bash

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The what? The, “Sud Ouest Bosozoku Triples Club Bordeaux Bash”…..Let me explain.

I put my old Kawasaki KH400 in my van and went down to Bordeax to visit my friend Richard. He has an old motorbike too. We went for a blast around the streets of Bordeaux. Simple eh?

So, Sud Ouest (South West), because Bordeaux is in the South West of France. Bosozoku are the Japanese motorcycle gangs. Now while neither Richard or me are Japanese, we’re both riding Japanese bikes, and Richard’s wife is Japanese, so that’s near enough! Triples, because we’re both riding triple cyclinder two-stroke motorbikes. Speciffically my KH400, and Richard’s KH250. If you’ve ever ridden one you’ll know what they’re like, and if you’ve never ridden one the put it down on your “must do” list.

We’re out in the street warming our bikes up. The noise has attracted one of Richard’s neighbours. We take off down the street wreckless fast so as to treat our spectators to the noise, sight, smoke, and smell that triples are known for. Richard’s neighbour is very impressed.
Just about to take off
Richard has been wondering if he will be faster on his ‘tuned’ 250, than I will be on my standard 400. Factor in that I’m some 10kgs heavier. We’re both keen to find out. Dragging away from lights we’re fairly evenly matched. The 250 is just as fast off the mark, but the 400 pulls it back in 2nd going to 3rd.

We hit a clear stretch of road. We’re crouched down on the bars going for top end speed. Richard makes 140kph, he’s holding it wide open. The 400 still has a little left. Richard spots the Gendarmes, we test our brakes hard!!!

It’s been a long time since I rode in city traffic. Richard rides with effortless confidence that comes from experience. I try to keep up without taking risks. As we filter through the heavier traffic lots of the car drivers move over to let us through. This is common in France. The normal response it to say thank you by taking your right foot off the footrest and straightening your leg.

Roundabout, sprint, roundabout, sprint, we’re not hanging about. A short stretch of motorway, and we’re almost home. The first, and probably the last, “Sud Ouest Bosozoku Triples Club Bordeaux Bash”. Sadly there probably won’t be another because Richard is heading off to Japan to teach English for a year. Yep, and leaving his Japanese wife in France to look after their two teenage girls! Crazy guy!
A real Bozzo!!


Where do they come from?

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Out with the boys on the Wednesday training bash.
Floaty days? Seems like you just get them sometimes. There’s no rhyme or reason, they’re not planned, and you can’t schedule ’em. Yeah, and the more you desire them, the more elusive they are.

Anyway, had a bit of a cold lately. Woke up feeling rough, aching all over with a pulse of 96 lying in bed. Did my normal recovery routine. No bike, and plenty of good food and rest. After three days I’m starting to feel better, at 5 days I try an easy hour on the bike, at 7 days I’m out with the boys for the Wednesday afternoon bash.

See, the weather is nice, I’m desperate to get out, I’m only gonna roll along at the back, and I’ll peel off if it gets too much. As I ride down to the meet by the Plan d’Eau below Rochechouart I’m feeling good, though a little breathless.

Our planned route will take us down to Chalus then over to Dournazac, on to Nontron, then back up the main road through St Mathieu and Vayres before my favorite ‘run in’ back to Rochechouart. There’s a good crew out. Plenty of engines. The makings of a good session.

I’m floating along. It’s like someone else is pedaling. I’m just a passenger enjoying the scenery. On the climbs I’m breathing hard, but not as hard as some of the riders next to me. On the long drag out of Dournazac the pressure goes on. No problem, I just increase my cadence. Climbing up into Nontron Supermax is putting the boot in, but I’m still with him.

Along the main road heading homewards, there’s a slight headwind, and some work shyness creeping in. I’m sharing the work with two others. It seems easy. As we motor down the last few kilometers the pace is high. With about 1km to go, and just for fun, I jump hard. I just can’t stop myself, I feel that good.

Back into Rochechouart now. Riders peel off for home. All of a sudden I’m feeling tired, very tired. As the last two riders turn off, and I’m riding the 3kms home on my own, all form and strength deserts me. I clang down through the gears. On the last climb to home I feel like getting off and walking. My legs are starting to cramp. Just over 4hrs on the clock. A great day on the bike. Floating. I’ll have more of the same please! 🙂

Happy Birthday Carla

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Carla, my wife, lover, friend, life-partner, significant other, training partner, co-driver, manager, consultant, massuese, fabulous cook celebrates her birthday today.

We’ve just got back from a Birthday ride. It’s a beautiful day here in France. Carla set a cracking pace all the way around our 35km loop.

We’ve got a bottle of champers, and some super nosh for later.

Happy Birthday Carla xxx
SB 🙂

A new axe to grind!

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It had been raining for days. I’d played my guitar until my fingers were raw. Cabin fever was upon me!

I’ve been thinking about buying a new acoustic guitar for years! My old Jap built Epiphone FT135, that I bought in the late 70s is great for bashing out chords, but she’s hard work when it comes to finger picking. Actually, I’ve tried to buy a new acoustic before, tried 100s, can’t find one I like.

Après avoir accompagné des jazzmen célèbres (Bill Coleman, Stéphane Grappelli, Don Bayas, Albert Nicholas…), écumé les salles et usé ses cordes de gala en gala, Georges Suchod décide de raccrocher sa guitare pour créer le premier vrai magasin de musique limougeaud. savoir plus…

Anyway, with dreams of a new acoustic I set of in search of Suchod Musique in Limoges. Never been there before, but surely they’d have something. Little did I know what was in store…

As soon as I walked through the door I just knew it was gonna take some time. Just hundreds of gorgeous guitars, like an aladin’s cave. Electrics and acoustics, Yamahas, Takamines, Taylors Godins…..”Oh look Carla, that Fender Tele, lovely”… Strats, Teles, Arch top Jazz guitars from Ibanez and Gretch, birds eye maple, cool. Beautiful flame top Les Pauls……. and then, there she was, waiting for me…a Gibson Explorer!!!

I asked if I could try it. I’d dressed to try guitars, no zips, studs, or watch, only soft clothing, I pointed this out to the sales assistant. He goes off to get Monsieur Suchod, I dunno why. So, this old fella hands me this gorgeous guitar, and ushers me to a stool next to an amp. By the way, it’s a nice Fender tube amp, not some nasty transistor thing. As the amp warms up, the old fella is telling me what a great guitar it is, and how they’re so versatile and much more than just a rock machine. Yea, I know that.

My 68 Cherry Explorer - a peach of a guitar

It’s a great guitar that’s well set up. I’ve owned Explorers before, this is a good one. Monsieur Suchod is still extolling it’s virtues. I ask him if he plays, “a little”, he tells me. I get up and offer him the guitar, he declines, but I insist. He plays a few stiff notes. What happens next is amazing…

As we chat, Monsieur Suchod starts to play some fabulous jazz stuff. Super lines, and some chord inversions I’ve never seen before. I try to clock them for future reference but they’re gone in a flash. He stops for a second, asks if we mind him smoking, lights a cigarette and continues to play. He’s away now, playing with the casual style and confidence that only comes from years of playing. I wish I’d had my camera with me at that moment because the sight of this old jazzer, ciggy hanging from the corner of his mouth while he rattled out a few tunes on an Explorer was quite surreal. Yes, they really are a versatile guitar, and Monsieur Suchod sure can make it sing.

Turns out that the 79 year old Georges Suchod has been playing guitar all his life. He’s played with all the big names of the jazz world. There’s a picture of him backing Bill Coleman on his office wall. He opened his first music shop in 1968 the year that Carla was born! Oh yes Georges knows his way around a guitar alright.

A young Georges Suchod (on the left) backing Bill Coleman

I bought the Explorer. How could I not buy it. She was there waiting for me, the only one in the shop, a proper cherry one, and a peach of a guitar. It was meant to be, and sold to me by Georges Suchod. You can’t change destiny. I’ve been in hundreds of guitar shops and bought nothing. Tried hundreds of guitars and walked away. But this one, she’s mine, it was meant to be.

Georges Suchod and me.

If you are ever in Limoges, I reckon a visit to Suchod Musique is a must. Even if you’re not a player, go in and meet Georges, ask him to play. He’s a great bloke, a superb player, and you’d be in for a real treat. If you are a player, they’ve got everything you could possibly need. I recommend them highly.

You’ll find Suchod Musique at 6 rue du General Cerez, Limoges.

Gibson Explorer headstock

Fish’n’Chips and strong lager

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As soon as I woke up I knew it was gonna be a good day. I just felt so good, so energized. Started off by throwing 3cubic meters of wood into the back of my van, driving 40kms then throwing it out again. Wood delivery complete, I drove home for lunch.

It’s Saturday, the sun is shining, the roads are dry, it’s roadie training with the Rochechouart Olympic Club Cyclo (ROCC). We meet outside the chateau at 13:30, there’s a good turn out of around thirty riders. Normal routine is to take the first few kms steady. I find I’m struggling to hold myself back. I just wanna get on with it.

On the long climb into Pressignac I’m still in the big ring, it feels effortless. Maybe it’s because I’ve been slogging around on Big Bird all week. I dunno, but my road bike feels so light and fast, like a toy.

At last the pace picks up a little. Young SuperMax is turning the screw. Now it’s tougher, but I’m still OK. We’re on a long drag, and as we climb I can hear riders crashing down through the gears as they explode. When we get to the top I look around to see who’s there. Nobody, all gone, I’m surprised.

A similar pattern continues. I can’t believe how well I’m going, and how good I feel. If I could sing, I’d burst into song!!! Another long drag, another test, SuperMax turning the screw again, really turning the screw. I’m glued to his back wheel as he continues to pile on the pressure. Now I’m down to taking 10 pedal turns at a time. Stick it out for 10 pedal turns and if I’m still in contact, stick it out for 10 more. About 100metres to go to the top. I almost run in Max’s back wheel I’m that close. I dunno if he’s overcooked it or not, but I jump past. Maybe he was being kind. He congratulates me on riding well.

A couple of hours later, we’re almost home, I feel as good as when we set out. On my own now for the last few kms. I sprint the last climb like my life depended on it. Now I shift down for an easy spin warm down. As I ride along I’m trying to understand where today came from, why I felt so good, what I could put it down to. Fish’n’Chips and strong lager. Yep, that’s what I had last night, slept like a baby woke up feeling like 10 men.

Fish’n’Chips and strong lager, it’s what I always used to have the night before a big race. See I used to travel all over the country to race. Rather than go to a dodgy restaurant I figured that Fish’n’Chips was the safer option. It’s sterile, ‘cos it’s cooked in boiling oil, and if it’s not too greasy and you don’t eat the batter on the fish, it’s fairly nutritious. Back at the B’n’B a can of strong lager was always enough to put me into a deep ‘sleep like a baby’ sleep, and I’d wake up feeling fresh and ready to go. So, I reckon that’s what happened. My body remembered those heady racey days and went into race mode. 🙂

Try it, it might work for you!

A lot of ‘F’ words today…

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The VTT Rando at La Bretagne just north of St Junien.
The frozen lake near Arnac
Absolutely f*****g freezing! With the temperature at around -10, plus the wind chill factor…

Firing down the first descent, and out across the frozen French farmland, young David from the Bessines club comes flying by, I give chase. We’re the first two riders away.

My frozen fingers won’t work, on a short road section I’m furiously flailing my arms in an attempt to get some blood flow going. It’s a clear blue sky, but it’s only just gone 08:30 and the sun has a way to climb before it finds us.

The ground is rock hard super fast. The farm tracks give way to singletrack as we go from fields to forest. We’re OK so far, and have been sharing the workload. On the straightaways we’re rocketing along. I’ve warmed up a little now. It’s fun.

As we get into more technical stuff David is just fearless. I stay with him as best I can. We’re slipping and banging off stuff. I’m just thinking how well I’m going, me, an old bloke with a dodgy shoulder keeping pace with a young gun, when I start thinking “feck this for a lark!!!”,it ain’t no race, but we’re riding furiously like men possesed. I don’t wanna find myself injured before the season starts. I back off a little. Still going quick though.

David has a good gap on me now. I gain a little on the easy stuff, he moves away on the technical stuff…… and then, he’s gone. I’m looking at what must be two minutes up the trail, and there’s no sign of him.

Along the singletrack by the lake near Arnac, I can hear a rider behind me. I’m thinking maybe it’s one of the Flying Barbourier Brothers, they’re bound to be chasing hard. It’s David!!! He’s so focused on going fast he’s missed the ‘fleche’. He comes by, racing over the frost covered rocks and frozen ‘run off’ like he’s on tarmac.

Into the last few kms. We follow the same trails that we came out on. There’s just one huge flat field to cross. I can see David up ahead and I make a final effort to try and catch him. Thing is, he can see me coming, and makes a final effort himself.

We’ve done 40kms in 1hour 45mins. It’s been fantastic, and I fank the young fellow David for a fine ride. 😉

…..and then, and then, mulled wine at the finish. Oh yes! 🙂

La 6éme Rando des Trois Clochers

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Remember when I did this last year? What a difference. Let me explain. Where last year was wetter than wet and raining but not cold, this year was dryer than dry, sunny, and freezing.

We set of for the venue in the dark at just gone 07:30. We need to take it easy as they don’t salt the roads so much in this corner of France. Climbing up towards Razes the sun is rising into a cloudless blue sky. Once again we find ourself in a small convoy of vehicles climbing through the narrow roads to St Léger la Montagne.

We park up and, blimey look who’s here, it’s Paul Gibson, haven’t seen him in ages. Suprises continue. There’s a good turnout, but for as many as there are there, there’s as many missing. Jean-Phi is there, but he’s doing the 12kms pedestre (walk). He says it’s too cold for biking!

Yeah OK it’s cold. Marcel shows me his battery powered heated gloves. I could do with some of those. The first few kms is agony until my hands warm through. The ground is dry, fast and rock hard. The edges of frozen ruts offer a ‘straight on only’ option.

The countryside up here is stunningly beautiful. I must make a return trip in the spring and tale some photos.

Two hours passes, my legs are a little jaded, I’m grovelling up a long climb, feels like i’ve been here before. See that little track of to the right? That looks just like the track they sent us on in the Departmental Championships last March. Yep, exactly right. As I burst out into the sun again I know where we are, and I can see where we are going. We’re headed back down the race circuit where I punctured last year. Only today I don’t. I rattle over the roots and rocks, just skimming the tops……

A moment of random spontaneity and I catch my bar end and hand on a stone wall. Hardly notice it (though it’s aching as I type this). Racing down the last descent with a couple of other riders, and we’re home.

Merci à tous les club de St Léger la Montagne pour une journée fantastique, et un circuit “hyper beau”. 🙂

Saturday ROCC rideout – Painfest

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A good turnout of around 40 riders for the Saturday rideout with the ROCC. A planned circuit of just over 50kms will do just fine, as it’s very cold today. It’s the first club ride of the new year, so the greetings take a little longer but we’re away just 5 minutes late.

The pace is easy, a little to easy, I switch to a very low gear to spin and make some heat. I’m glad when SuperMax picks up the same along the main road through Biennac. Along the 3km straight various riders roll through, all the usual suspects are there.

We swing right along the valley road towards St Auvent. When we reach the bottom of the hairpined climb up to the village Pierre Chenaud (‘in form’ regional veteran cyclo-cross champion) kicks hard. SuperMax goes after him, Eric goes after SuperMax, I go after Eric…….all hell breaks loose!!!

Now i’m too damn hot, i can’t breathe, can’t stay with them. Paul Smith, Lucien, Stephane, all come past me. I manage to get back on when they ease over the top. When we turn left Pierre goes straight on!!! Thanks very much Pierre.

Training 3rd Jan 2009

We’re trending towards Cognac la Forét, every time the road goes up so does the pace. I’m finding it hard. I don’t remember it being this hard last year. Maybe i’m still a bit tired from yesterday. The last climb up to the high point is agony, and with around half a km to go SuperMax attacks. Eric goes after him, there’s not much response from anyone else.

From the high point above Cognac to St Martin de Jussac where we’re headed is about 10kms, and it’s mostly downhill all the way. It’s fairly sensible down to Cognac, then it’s balls out to St Martin. We’re motoring along the roller coaster road, any slight rise sees another rider burst through to the front.

As we drop down to the Vienne river I’m on the front, there’s a couple of sharp bends coming up, and with the angle of the road and the low sun it’s hard to see if there’s any danger. SuperMax comes flying by….fearless young, mad rider that he is… he throws his bike into the bends and his gone. Nobody has the balls to try and match him.

Along the riverside towards St Junien, easy on the flat hard up the hills. Onwards towards Chaillac then Saillat, the same. We should turn for home now but we don’t….Chassenon first then Rochechouart. At last we ease up. Riders peel off until i’m on my own with just 5kms to go for home. I’m tired, and it’s going much colder now. Just one last climb to do, I’m back, cooked, done in, with 80kms on the clock.

Almost home - 3rd Jan 2009