10 Under the Ben
A list of disasters? I dunno….reardless, it was the first outing of the new race team, BIKE: BLAIRADAM. Boo yah. It’s a shame the tops aren’t ready yet. 
Anyways, Friday comes, I pack, make loads of sarnies for Saturday, basically sort myself out. Thursday night was spent double checking the bike, sorting out the annoying BB issues and so on. All seems good. Jim C arrives, we head to Craigs, drink coffee until Jim McD arrives, then set off up north.
We arrive and go to the Nevis Range to register and eat. Up the gondola we go, making sure Craig and I are at opposite sides to avoid tilting the cablecar. At possibly the best sign-on spot ever (the foodie place up the mountain, we sign in, get our free meal, sample some single malt them get back down the mountain andm after settig up our gazebo for the morning, go to the accomodation.
Checking the bike on the roofrack, I notice that the crank can wobble. WTF? The non driveside cup is loose somehow. Fine, crank off, cup tightened, crank back on. It’s then I spot the 1 inch hole in the rear tyre. Last night it was a scratch, tonight it’s a 1 inch hole with the tube popping through. Jesus…..I borrow a tyre, swap it out. the thought of cold Stella makes the grumpyness subside.
Some beers are drunk, good chat is had. We sort our gear up, I make a last minute decision to stick my sandwiches in the fridge overnight instead of leaving them in mmy food box in their airtight box and we have an early night. Well, we are racing in the morning….
Morning comes. Two portions of porridge are eaten, fruit juice drunk. Gear is put on, cameblaks are filled, drinks bottles are sorted out and the ride gear is put in the car. My food box is packed into the car and we set off.
We unpack into the gazebo and kill some time until the start and before we know it, it’s 9:30 and we’re off…….
The plan is simple. Six laps and I’ll be ecstatic, five would be okay. Seven would be a miracle. Take a break or two. Get three laps in first, then take it from there.
There’s a prelude lap first to separate the field a bit. It’s all fine, I’m in a good rhythm and trying not to overdo it. We flatten out at the top of the climb and hit the first bottleneck…..there’s riders walking a simple rocky descent. Great. We wait and eventually get down and we’re back at the gondola station. Now the race really begins We start down the mountainside and head through the car park to the first stream crossing and fins another queue. Jebus………We wait for ages and eventually we get through. Riders walking again again.
Now, the race can finally start. The field has started to split up and we’re rolling. We’re going through singletrack, there’s a left hand corner. I go round and it’s some steps down towards a ramp/rock thing, but (and you knew there would be a “but”) yet another walker has blocked the line off, but I’m on route down, arse over the rear wheel…..I veer left to avoid her but clip a tree and my left hand is knocked off the bars. Next thing I know I’m on my back and I can hear someone shouting MAN DOWN!!!! I realise it’s me and get up, dust myself off and check myself out. I’ve slammed my arm into a rock, but it looks fine. Some small cuts (one is wiiide open but small). After speaking to the marshall, I ride off, wondering if the throbbing in my arm will stop (it stopped on Tuesday, by the way and the swelling an bruising only came on Monday and is still there)
Lap 1 continues without incident, other than more people walking down the tech stuff in the descents half way round the lap. I finish, grab another clif bar and set off again.
As lap 2 continues, it’s like someone turned the heating up and the temperature is rising rapidly. I soak my head, but keep drinking and keep going. The lap is fine. I’m getting hungry though so try to make sure I stop for a sarnie. I’m going through the second stream crossing and working my way through the last 1 1/2 miles of the course and I’m thinking……sarnies……they’ll be nice, they sent the night in the fridge. The fridge…….FUCK. I never took them back out of the fridge. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. I try not to panic, eat another clif bar and a snack size mars bar, refill the camelbak and bottle. I decide to stop after lap 3 and get more food from the stall. I don’t want a break quite so soon into it……. I think to myself…”hm….it’s getting really hot”….
Lap three was hell. there’s no getting away from it. As I ascend the long fire road climb, the heat really starts to get to me and I stop to soak my head at the start and end of various sections. I’m making silly mistakes on the descents and starting to feel really shit. I’ve went through almost 1 1/2 litres of water and over 1/2 a litre of energy drink in 3/4 of the lap. It’s not looking good. I get to the second stream crossing and stop to catch my breat in the shade. I see the first aiders running up to me and they’re worried. The short version – they’re worried about how bad I look and recommend I stop.
So, I finish that lap and stop. I try not to fall asleep in the chair, finish off loads more water then hunt down food. I down 2 cans of red bull too, but it’s not enough. It’s too hot for me, I can’t get back into it and I call it a day. It’s annoying. There’s still time to get in at least two laps but it’s not happening at all. Craig rolls in, he’s fucked too, but manages one more lap. The Jim C manages another and Jim McD one more than that.
So, lessons learned…..
Heat sucks, remember your food. I got everything else right and as of the end of lap 2 it was going well, I just needed to refuel then, not a lap later.
So, it’s Kirroughtree in mid July next.
I can’t wait.
