So, the Doig family ventured down south to Dalby Forest for SSUK2009.
An odd one – recent events changed the plan from ‘competitor’ to ‘marshall’ but that didn’t mean I couldn’t hang out, have a few beers and generally soak up the atmosphere.
So, after the lop-sided journey (3/4 of the distance in the first 2 1/2 hrs, the last 1/4 in the second 2 1/2), we arrived at Dalby under sunshine and blue skies and set up camp. The group ride was just returning as we were unpacking so I caught up with people there, plus Phil and his Dad were setting up camp about 10 feet away.
We were set up in time for registration and food (the ticket needed for food being obtained at registration) and encountered more peeps from the deep south (Grant Taylor, Deano Taylor and Philip Diprose) in the food queue. Food comsumed, it was time for entertainment…..ROLLAPOLOOZA.
No, I didn’t enter but I did have a good heckle. I’m sure I was too late to enter anyway and didn’t have an opponent and….blahblah more excuses blah….. anyway….
The band came on after that and the kids varied between dancing to them and playing in the playpark next to the campsite while I had a couple of pints of bitter. They did eventually get tired though and I was abandoned on my own with beer tokens and more racing/band to enjoy, which I most certainly did. I caught up more with people then drifted off to bed at midnight-ish, the content glow of half a dozen pints heeping me company to the tent.
Morning brought breakfast, marshall registration and the journey out to my marshalling point. Although it was 10 mins walk from the campsite and the race started at 11, I was there for 9:45 and then waited. And waited. And waited. I spoke to a couple of riders, riding the trail/course in the wrong direction just before the starting whistle, one of which claimed that they didn’t know they were riding the wrong way, while standing next to a sign pointing the opposite direction from which they came. They changed to the correct line and sped off. Word then came through that the start had been delayed so there was more waiting. Then, it was 11:20 and they were off.
A few minutes later, the leaders sprinted through, followed by a steady stream of riders. They were faced with a choice of lines and those choosing the right hand one were suitable heckled. The stream became a trickle then the leaders appeared behind me (the inward loop went round the back of my spot) and shot off. Eventually, the stragglers appeared in front of me (40 mins after the start?!?!) and were promptly lapped.
1 1/2 hrs of heckling and responsible marshalling followed until the riders started to dissipate and I got my orders to stand down, choosing to walk back to the campsite rather than hitch a lift in the radio 4×4.
Then it was, of course, time for prizegiving….. first up, marshalls. 
After that, it was the usual mix of the conventional and slightly less so. Facial hair, biggest leg, the Phil-and-his-Dad prize for being Phil-and-his-Dad, best young rider (decided through a [non-allcoholic] drinking challenge) and some disturbing Haribo overdosing.
Last though was the important job of deciding where next year will be held, the answer to that being South Wales, so depending on the time of year, the Doig family might be going on holiday…..
