This weekend I learned the difference between 24 hour mountain biking and road biking the hard way. Falling head first over the bars, butt first off the back of the bike, and in who-knows-what-direction whenever I crossed a tree root, I spent much of my time clambering back on the bike rather than moving it forwards. Yes, I attempted to ride the Original Source Mountain Mayhem 24 hour race.
I ambled back through the sea of tents in search of something to eat (I was making do with Marmalade Sandwiches and bananas, at least until Fran had managed to rustle up a meaty pasta dish and sausage casserole) and something soft and stable that I could sit on. I’d just spent a straight hour bouncing violently on the bike with the saddle being driven like a jack hammer into my rear. The lap was only 10.5 miles long, but I had managed to fall off 6 times. I don’t just mean put my feet down, I mean properly wiped out. Within the first ten minutes the route wound into the woods through some glue-like mud that meant everyone was barely moving, despite pedalling as though their lives depended on them not stopping. The route then arrived at the top of a very short, but steep drop. Being full of beans and watching everyone else just plough over the top I followed suit. Only I accelerated faster than the bike and rather than the suspension (what is that invention?!) absorbing the bounce, my hands and face were the immediate substitutes. I wasn’t enjoying myself at all.
On with the lap I continued. If I was anything like the others I would have another 50 minutes or so to pedal through this chaos and I wasn’t keen at all. Flashing through my mind were broken bones and pedals clattering my shin. What was I even doing here?!
Steve Ballantine of Six Cycles in Taunton asked me to be involved in a 24 hour race. I liked them so I jumped at the chance. Only after agreeing did I learn it was an mtb race. For the sake of the team I ought to have backed out. Spurred on by the belief of Matt Morgan, who kindly lent me the bike, the shoes, the advice, but sadly not enough confidence I was roped in and going for it. Everyone came back with huge smiles looking forward to their next outing. I came back with a frown and a continual look of fear. I ached from the pain of being so tense. How would I survive 24 hours if in my first hour I had crashed 6 times?
After much moaning and pain, and absolute joy at watching the pro mtb riders flying past (at quite literally double the speed I was holding) I settled into the game. It’s great fun. I learned two things from the event: 1) there is nothing really that wrong with the UK roads, and 2) mountain bikers have some damned patience to sit and spin their life away.
With some guidance and support from other competitors who talked me through many of the stages, I actually ended up quite liking it. I don’t know whether I am or will ever be ready to move across from the road, but what an adventure it can be. I did foolishly agree to next year which means some off road sessions are a must in between. Although why spoil the habit and turn up prepared next time?!
The video below is from one of the pro female riders who makes a much better and faster job of getting round the course than any of us managed! Enjoy watching it.
