Abergavenny Nat Trophy 2013

It was with a mix of excitement and trepidation that I left Nidderdale at 4.30am for the first round of the National Trophy at Abergavenny. My race in 2012 had been probably my worst race of the season in performance terms. More frustratingly, I couldn’t quite figure out why at the time. Notwithstanding this, I liked the course. Some fast stuff, some flowing woodland and some technical grassland and some running. The 2013 course looked very similar.

As we cruised down the M5 we watched the sun rise to Shine On You Crazy Diamond by Pink Floyd whilst fueling on caffeine and blueberry muffins on track to land with the optimal 90mins to go. Enough time to do what’s needed, not enough time for faffing. Tyre pressures set at my standard warm up, the first practice lap felt sketchy in the inch of surface mud that covered the course. Grip, not legs were going to be the deciding factor on much of the course.

The start was the usual tarmac, uphill affair. About three hundred metres on closed public roads and then onto the course proper. On the basis of last year, I was gridded on the third row for about seventy starters. At this level, I felt a little out of my depth. With three minutes to go, I felt something on my bare arm…..rain! Completely unscientific perhaps, but what else could I do? Two seconds of ‘pissst’ from the front valve and 1 second from the rear.

We were off……A perfect clip in after half a pedal rev….PLF…bang it up two gears and then feed it in again. Crunch….the rider directly in front of me had jumped a gear and come out of the pedals. I jammed the brakes on and came perilously close to eating tarmac as my front wheel tickled his chainstay. That was it. All momentum lost. Kaput. About ten riders swamped me as I tried to get a big gear rolling again. That’s life Jim.

Up a steep muddy bank and the Rhino’s felt like they had massive traction. Down the other side something clearly possessed my brain and I went for what was a nothing short of suicidal inside line going into a dead turn. I got away with it passing about half a dozen guys in so doing. Ace, five seconds of brilliance.

What happened then was about two minutes of complete ineptitude. Mistimed dismounts, clumsy remounts and completely absence of any logic re gear selection. One ride, then another, another, and another slipped past. Damn it, I’m on my own again. I couldn’t even screw things up in privacy with friends from Harrogate Nova cheering me on. Slowly the composure came back and I tried to smooth myself out. I realised that I was beginning to come across riders and reel them back in as mid race point passed. The rhythm was OK, I started to really commit to running some of the more slippery sections to great effect, almost sprinting.

I was now faced with a dilemma. My bike was clogging….and I’d carted 120lites of water, a petrol washer and my pit crew the length of the UK to be there. I should change, but I knew that my spare bike had precisely three seconds more ‘pissst’ in it’s tyres. It was raining and getting very slippery with the front brake becoming more of a falling off device than a slowing down device. No disrespect to Heather, she’s fab in the pits but to ask her to adjust tyre pressures for me was a step too far, especially as she doesn’t ride (yet). To hell with it, I thought. If I needed to stop for three seconds to let some ‘pissst’ out of the front tub so be it. After a great change, bizarrely the spare bike felt great and really grippy despite the harder front tub. Strange – I need to investigate which way round the tread pattern goes on both bikes…...

With two laps to go, and having negotiated the evil off camber left bend about five times, it happened. Big time. My concentration slipped and I entered the bend a good 75% faster than every other lap. Yes really! A blind man on a galloping horse would have exclaimed “He’s going to crash”. And so it came to pass. Despite having the presence of mind to stay off the brakes, the front wheel washed out and I came down hard. I slid about 12-15metres on a wet muddy bank with the scenery spinning like I was on a carousel. As bike and I passed under course netting with spectators scattering it actually crossed my mind if I ever might stop. Avoiding being disqualified for not rejoining the course at the point I left it was never going to be an issue due to wonderful slide marks.

Going into the bell lap, I had just one guy with me as we went into the last part of the course, we’d traded places throughout the later part of the race, typically where he’d ridden and I’d chosen to run. He hit the last bank fast and really hard. He deserved to get up it on the basis of commitment alone……He did, just, and gapped me by ten metres only to promptly slide off on the following bend. I actually felt sorry for him as I rode hard to the finish.

As a marked difference to Gateshead last week, tactics didn’t really play a part for me here. Fitness didn’t really either as got back to the van literally feeling like I could race again. I’m pretty confident that an hour race would have upped my finishing position as I definitely improved as the race went on. Perhaps the biggest factor for me was simply a case of getting dialled into a slippery, technical course where there were constant decisions to be made. I found a mid field placing of 36^th somewhat disappointing, however in hindsight my performance was no better or worse than on the same course in 2012 and in the scheme of things, racing in difficult conditions will have brought me on.

Right, off to rake that digital pressure gauge out of my toolbox.