Tubs. Velo Cafe Magasin

Tubular tyres.

Mythical creatures to some; each hand crafted by the creator, who knows each and every thread per inch; reserved only for those truly in pursuit of the 'Cross.
Those who have wished friend and family farewell, making the dive deep into the Cyclocross realms, never to return to normality. Those bitten by a life-sucking beast, surviving only through the weekly drip of SVENNESS. Those you'll find in Tesco wondering which hand position Sven would use on the trolley.

Each year, Autumn arrives, the leaves begin to fall and the Cyclocrossers slowly appear from behind the trees. Here they have been hibernating since National Champs; waiting, wondering, watching for the raindrops. The 'off season', precisely periodised. The post Nationals crash; news still trickling in from far and near, memories in blossom; too soon to accept the reality, that the beautiful pain and euphoria of cyclocross racing is over for another year. Then, through turmoil and tribulation, we admit that we can no longer shun reality, and depression devours us. But we are stronger than that. We are made of sterner stuff. If the 'Cross has taught us anything it is that there is hope, there is a redeemer.
Internet browsers are slowly, almost embarrassingly opened. Yes it's only March, but no-one else can see me? Maybe I'll catch a bargain on Ebay now the season's over? Justification. Distorted reality. We are masters.
Ideas are generated, research is gathered; will I go single ring this year? Are disc brakes fashionable yet? Pro bike set-ups scrutinized from valve extension to headset spacer.

April, May, June, July; long summer's nights and grand tours to watch, we find ample distraction, but can't deny the little smile in our brains each time we pass by the 'cross bike in the garage. Before we know it, the road/mtb season hasn't quite gone to plan, injured this, broken that, didn't have enough toast before that race etc. But wait, what's that? Yep, only 3 months til 'cross season!

The nights fall in, summer season wraps up, throws a scarf on and gets its wellies out. Shiny new things ordered and fitted, maybe even new bar tape if we're feeling a good season coming; wearing running shoes dug out of the cupboard under 9 months of more important things; maybe we'll go for a run later? Or tomorrow... maybe the day after.

It was about this time I'd been in to Velo Cafe Magasin in Belfast. Joe Henry was a bit of a hero in finding me a straight pull spoke long enough for a Syncros 29er wheel, no other shop in the country seemed to have one! We got talking Cyclocross; because from 1st September you probably can't escape the topic if you enter into conversation with a 'crosser, and I aired my dreams of riding tubular tyres this year.



The Cyclocross tubular is sheltered from the hopeful attacks of amateurs by the arduous gluing process, the price, the risk of rolling, the risk of puncturing. Indeed the clincher will do. It is black, it is round. But alas, it is not enough for some. Whether in their heads or on the course, some are pushing the boundaries of humanity. Some need that 0.5psi less. Some are pioneering lean-angles seen only previously seen through beer goggles, and rims with walls simply aren't an option.

With no rim walls, and either a thin latex tube inside, or no tube at all, the risk of pinch-flats are eliminated, allowing much lower pressures, and the grip and rolling resistance #GAINZ that follow, with maybe some weight savings too. Indeed, to those who have not tried, it seems a lot of faff, a lot of money and a lot of risk; a big old denominator to balance.

But really, if you're interested in going fast at all, you've taken a risk or two in your time. This one can't wait any longer. Roger is still lapping you and hasn't even started sweating yet. How much more of that can you take?

I made the decision I was gonna go 'tubs', but that meant new wheels, and buying new things takes me about a year of internetting to make sure I'm spending my money as best as I can. I'm actually a bit scared of the thought. There's still an almost completed excel spreadsheet back in my documents from this time last year.

Then came a message from Joe himself; 'Hey Monty, you still looking some carbon wheels for cross?'. Gonna be a goood one. He was up for donating me some handbuilt tubular babies for the season to see how they held up to 'that sort of riding'. Now I don't know exactly what he was implying by 'that sort of riding', but I was sure up for giving them a rattle. Joe is one of the best wheel-builders in the country so I was pretty stoked on getting some great wheels without having to get the spreadsheet fired up again. Cyclocross is pretty brutal on parts; every kind of mud under the clouds, regular powerwashing etc. A visit to a good shop like VCM will keep you right on wiping your rims right and washing your nipples n' stuff.

 

'Ride the shit out of them' he said, and ride the shit out of them I did, and still am. Turned up to my first race like a little kid taking his new toys out for the first time after Christmas. No. Probably more excited actually. Anyway, I won that race, and I was a convert. The practice laps were a little squirmy; adjusting to new feels from the ground, but once the gate dropped and I got hammering, they were incredible. Honestly. Life changing stuff. Grip by the lorry-load. Absolutely transformed the bike from the old Shimano R500s & Maxxis Mudwrestlers! All ye of clinchers; imagine being able to turn in corners rather than slide through them? I know; mental; but believe me; it's possible!

Race win was followed by race win, and race win, and I think they've now won 4 races and been on 6 podiums. I'm not sure I'd ever have got round to buying tub wheels and tyres this season, and would've been plodding round the top 15 wondering where all my Wattz were going, so Joe Henry and Velo Cafe Magasin deserve a massive, massive thank-you! If you too are thinking about making the jump, go for it. Sometimes the roady pro's race clinchers, but there's good reason why you've never seen or heard of the Cyclocross #PROZ on clinchers, ever.

Benefits? You'll probably save a bit of weight over clinchers - obviously depends what you're changing from and to - 30-50mm deep rim will keep a bit more mud on the course rather than your bike, and be pretty strong too. You'll save a few precious watts from less rolling resistance over the equivalent clincher tread. Extra grip from a more flexible casing; better cornering; bet you've never even thought of how heavy that extra mud is when you crash! Extra grip and bump absorption from being able to run lower pressures. Ride up hills. Ride off cambers. Ride off cliffs. Do whatever you want, you look bloody #PRO.

If you're thinking of a new bike, I'd recommend not going for the top model, going a model or 2 down, and heading into VCM to get some tubular wheels built up and some advice on tyres. You never know, you could end up riding a World Cup in the same season!

Monty outttt.

http://www.velocafemagasin.com/
10 Cromac Ave,
Belfast,
County Antrim
BT7 2JD

Irish XC NPS 1 - Slade Valley, Saggart, Dublin

Home from uni for Easter for pretty much all of April. Deadly!

Week/weekend plans:
Race. Train. Race. Train. Race. Train. Race. Recover. Smash BXC 2 at the start of May.
Really looking forward to some good time at home with real food and real mtb trails.

How it actually went:
Race first weekend, sustain injury during race. Can't ride for 2 weeks. Another week with only being able to ride every other day (letting the knee swelling go down again in-between), wondering if I could maybe still ride the 1st NPS before I went back to Loughborough. Missing my first stage race and multiple other deadly days bicycle riding. Absolute bummer.
Probably the 2 sunniest weeks of the year and I was stuck in the house. Thank me at any stage you wish.

So 3rd time back on the bike in 3 weeks: in Mary Peters on Thursday trying to get some race-pace MTB efforts done to test the old body out, seeing if I could chance NPS 1 on Sunday... all was going relatively well. Had planned 2 timed laps at the end, nailed the first one, was 6secs up 6mins into the second one... 23mph* off a fireroad into a little twisty bit of trail. Mary Peters is notorious for tight trees and trail furniture in dubious places, so I was being pretty cautious. Coming around a left hander with a tree on the apex, so running a little wide to the right, my front wheel clipped a log lying on the ground. Yes; after missing all the bloody trees and massive rocks I clip a bit of a dead tree lying randomly on the ground.

Straight over the bars. Perfect parabola. 23mph to 0 in less than a second using mostly my head. Flipping massive crash. Land a bit sideways on my head and my back twists and knocks all the wind out of me. HUUUHHH HUHHHH. You know those winded moans. Thought I'd done proper damage to my back (already in not so great condition if you remember back to BXC 1) so just lay there for a while wondering if I indeed was the biggest goober on the planet right now.
After some old lady had heard my moaning and came over to check up on me I finally got up off the ground to check the rest of the body and bike. Right knee also not great, big impact to quad, shin, shoulder fecked, big old gash in my seatpost and some rips in my grips.
Race prep: nailed it.



Friday came about. Couldn't really move my neck. Couldn't really move my back. Both knees now sore.
Saturday came about. Even less ROM in my neck. Back feeling a little better though. Feck it it'll all loosen up in the race..

At least the bike was in reasonable shape. It had already cost me enough this month! Cyclofudge buddy Luke Ireland of Belfast Bike Repair had been rebuilding my front wheel after the Ballykelly disaster and offered me a lift down to Slade Valley.

We got there in reasonable time and set out for a practice lap. I had a nice slick tyre on the front and semi slick on the back. It'd been sunny for the last month, I refused to believe the photos that IMBRC (race organisers) had put up the day before of lots of rain. Sure enough, it was in fact a bit wet. Masses of slippery roots upwards and downwards with wet dirt between. Sure enough, we had no tyre levers between us and the tyres weren't coming off without them. Ah sure it'll be grand.

Race was to start at 2 so about 1.45pm we headed up to the START/finish. I went for a quick portaloo visit, then chatted a while longer; waiting for the prize presentation for the earlier races to finish and our race to start. Or so I thought.
The prize presentation was coming to a close, and it was still pretty much only myself and Luke standing on the line. A little confused, I went for a look and spotted some people further down the fireroad... and as I got closer realised that it was everyone. All 160 odd entrants of the afternoon race lined up. Well, 160 - 2. Fudddge.

In rows of 3 that's about 53 rows. "Sorry. Can I get through. Sorry. Excuse me. Sorry. Can I squeeze past there. Sorry." for what seemed like an eternity before I finally found the rear end of S1. And about 10secs after I'd managed to squeeze in, Commissaire Martin Grimley told us we'd be starting in 30secs. Nice. #ontime

The race got off to a pretty hectic start. With Robin Seymour and Gareth Mckee, the two main men, on the front row, I had some serious ground to make and wanted to get it done quick. Every second counts when up against riders of that quality. Thankfully there was a decent bit of fireroad at the start and I was within reach of the top 5 before long after starting at the back of the massive 30+ man elite field. After a bit of a chuckle as I looked up and saw 2 time Olympian, >15 time Irish XC champion Seymour on me mate Barry Kellett's wheel, I was able to relax a bit and settle in. Mckee was away like a rocket but everyone else was riding quite steady.

After a bit of a mishap coming through the start/finish, I'd a bit of chasing to do again to get back to Seymour and Kellett. Onto Seymour's wheel, off the fireroad into some singletrack. Accidentally clipped out of my light weight not suitable for slippy conditions fudger pedals and couldn't for the life of me get clipped back in. Seymour = gone. Back out onto the fireroad, caught up to him again, but then ended up losing the pedal again and he was gone for good this time. Barry Kellett came past, and Graham Boyd wasn't far behind. At this stage my head was an absolute mess as I was about 2mins behind where I wanted to be. This led to some mental first class Fred moments, going straight on in corners when I must've had my eyes closed or something; completely off track and having to find my way back, sliding out on roots, more clipping out, realising how much my back wasn't 'loosening up'.

Matt Slattery came by, Graham came by, my head went by, I was left on my own in 6th re-evaluating life. Finally realised trying to go fast wasn't exactly working, so went for the 'just keep moving forward' alternative. At this stage I was just gonna be happy if I finished.

I ended up back with Graham, and stuck with him as he rode back to Matt and Barry. Although my back was completely fecked, knee was starting to get a bit sore, and arms were cramping from trying to pull brakes that weren't in the right place from earlier tumbles, Barry was making moves and I wasn't for letting him away when I'd made it this far!

Barry and I got away, and although we got stuck behind some pretty ignorant traffic in some of the singletrack, allowing Graham to catch us again, I was pretty sure the race for 3rd was going to be between us two.
On the penultimate climb Barry launched an attack. This was into the massively rooty 'rabbit ride' climb that I'd been struggling with all day on me slicks, and he got a bit of a gap, but back onto the fireroad, onto the last climb now, I came back alongside him. With only a big descent left to the finish, I made my move and got a gap into the descent, then attacked it to make some more ground. Then got stuck behind some S3 traffic, but thankfully like the majority of them, he politely allowed me through when he'd the chance, and fortunately Barry wasn't close enough behind to get through aswell.
Into the final couple of turns now and I could see Barry was a safe distance behind, so with some more S3s up ahead I wasn't going to get any further. Just stayed upright and made the finish.

As it turned out holeshot-Mckee was only 20secs ahead of me after all that! With Seymour just under 3mins away over the 1h 50min race. Decent enough day out after probably the worst 3 weeks 'training' possible.

Thanks to IMBRC for some brilliant work on the track. It didn't look much different from the 1st lap to the 5th after what, over 500 individual laps? Much appreciated by my slick tyres and questionable line choices.

After that it was back home for dinner and then to the overnight ferry to Liverpool and driving back to Loughborough.
An astoundingly crap Easter all in all, but excuses don't count, results do. Back to trying to get ontop of these injuries and save my season!

Thanks to Graham McIntyre for flawless bottle hand-ups!

Monty, out.

(Thanks to Sean Rowe and Action Pictures Ireland for the photos)

*strava official

UXC 2 - Ballykelly Forest

Coming into this race I was pretty worried about my back to say the least. Having to pull out of a race last weekend wasn't fun.

After upping my core training and almost a month of only riding the mtb, with some xc race simulation sessions, I had really thought that everything was a-ok and I was 'race ready'; back concerns hadn't even crossed my mind! Ideally I would've got at least one XC race done before the 1st British round, but with a lack of transport this proved impossible, so I did what I could and headed down to Essex with best intentions... and ended up in the back of an ambulance for about an hour after my race with crippling back pain. With one lap to go.

Everyone needs more purple skinsuit in their life, whether they know it or not.

Fast forward 6 days, a couple of trains, a plane and a country, I was on the start line of the Beggs & McGreevy Memorial road race in Dromore. I'd just picked up a Cervelo from Lakeland bikes earlier in the week, so had been focussed on getting it set up and ensuring it was 100% before my first road race of the season, not leaving me any time to try and figure out the cause of the back problems on the mtb. Fortunately all was grand on Saturday, back wasn't under much stress on the roady, and managed to sprint to 6th from an 80 man starting field. Was happy enough with that after some major tactical struggles in the race and pretty much towing everyone round the last lap while trying to get away #onemanband

Sunday morning 8am. Well. 8.06am to be specific; 'every second counts' as Lance said, my alarm went off and another day's push bike pedalling began. The second round of the Ulster XC series was being held at Ballykelly Forest, which I'd raced last year and was a brilliant course, so was super keen to do this year. Matt Adair was kind enough to give me a lift, and the Fiesta was lowered about 5 inches and on the road sometime around 9.

With a decent bit of water falling out of the sky this last few days, and more on Sunday morning as we drove up, things were pretty wet in practice. There's a steep old chute off a fireroad in Ballykelly, bit like the big dipper at Barry's #getherdipped.

Picture from last year - like I said it was pretty muddy this year. But after riding it multiple times in my race last year I thought it should be grand. Had a quick glance at it to make sure there were no surprises, and then dropped in. The bike was steering itself down it, and I had my head up, looking where I wanted to go; in control as much I could be given I was going down a massive muddy slide on 2 wheels. The bike started going a bit to the left, when I wanted to be a bit more right due to a bit of a hole and a tree; good line choice generally doesn't involve riding into these things. Nonetheless, I was still going in the general direction I intended, and the dip looked rideable if I missed the tree, and I was kind of running out of other options.

Into the dip and out of it on my face about 10ft down the track. Nice. WTF happened there?

Go back to fetch my bike and see this. Flat tyre ffs.

Walked back as many kids (and Barry Kellett) laughed and pointed. Them and their 16" bulletproof wheels. Buggers. Due to the Fiesta being pretty packed with our 2 bikes and kit, I hadn't taken spare wheels... and had forgotten my spoke key, of all days eh!

Massive thanks to Ciaran O'Hagan for the lend of his spare for the race. Hero!

Didn't get time to warm up, so some jumping around on the line had to do.

The start was epic. Albeit not in the traditional sense. With 5 laps to go, nobody was in that much of a rush,so myself and Matt Adair came to the front for a chat. Due to somemore crashes on the chute(which was the first bit of trail after the start fireroad), it was closed for the race, and we were sent down the B-line instead. After realising that neither of us had ridden the B-line in practice, we had a quick ask round to see if anyone else had; but no-one came forward. Adair went first and I followed... not quite as steep as the A line, but more twisty and technical, and still very wet. All was good until he went through 2 trees that my super wide bars were never going to manage, and being right on his tail there were no other lines left. I tried to slow down, but the tree got there first, and for the second time of the day I was getting a good Ballykelly soil sample. Straight over the bars, with a stem to the kneecap and bars to the groin. Probably should've been a gymnast.

Back up and going, turned out my front brake and shifter had twisted round so could no longer reach them; not ideal when trying to catch up to Matt again! A quick stop to knock them into place and relative composure was regained. As I noticed a decent slap of blood on my arm. ffs #notpro.

Caught up to Matt and we resumed our chat. Graham Boyd wasn't far behind us in 3rd, so coming into lap 2 I was keen to push on a bit. Not before falling off down the B-line again though. Re-caught Matt and then

attacked a little while later.

And that was that really. Got a good gap, rode steady and smooth; in the muddy conditions I just tried not to make any mistakes rather than go fast as such. Passed poor old Matt again on lap 4, as he'd punctured and was at the side of the trail. Knew at that stage that Graham wasn't close, and with Matt out I really just had to finish... with my cleat in my left shoe loosening itself from mid-lap 2, and my knee starting to seize up after my earlier crash, this wasn't quite as simple as it should've been. #360degreepedalengagement.

Super steep wet climb round the back of the course. Tried to hop off and run up it as I had done in previous laps. Foot just turned on pedal rather than unclipping. Cue standard slow motion clipless pedal rookie capsize. Lay in the mud for a while feeling sorry for myself and trying to get my foot out of the pedal. Finally got unclipped and half heartedly ran up the hill on my increasingly painful knee.

With about 1/2 lap to go I just focussed on trying to not let the cleat loosen too much more, or fall over, or have my knee explode, and eventually made it to the finishing straight, to freewheel down to the line to victory in my first Elite race. Not quite as I had planned, but nice to be fit enough to have it all go wrong and still win by 5mins. Train hard race easy or something :)

trying to look like this

nailed it*

Thanks to Graham McIntyre for doing my bottles. And to mother and father for feeding and watering me while I'm home for the month!

Would've liked to race on the road again this weekend in preparation for the 3 day stage race, Ras Mumhan over Easter weekend, but will probably have to let this knee and groin recover as they're not in great shape. 

Til then, (well, actually, til I get round to finishing off last week's 1st British XC round race report and uploading it)    

Monty :)

*sarcasm. lots of it.

NPS 4 - Lady Dixon

In stark contrast to the last proper report I did; starting off with my alarm going crazy at some ridiculous time of the morning, there was no alarm thismorning. With today's fourth round of the Cross-Country National Points Series in Belfast, at Lady Dixon Park, it wasn't going to take me more than 35mins to get there, and my race wasn't until 2pm... I was bound to wake up before 1.25pm on my own accord :)

Your car's ok ma, he's wearing tracksuit bottoms

It's been dry for XMTB's Lady Dixon NPS round for the last 4 years or something, and yet again, the week leading up to it had been a scorcher (in Northern Irish terms - generally above about 8 degrees celcius), with hardly a drop of rain, and Sunday didn't disappoint; a positively tropical 16 degrees said the car, and nice and sunny said my eyes. With a final check to make sure I'd got all my kit in my bags and drinks mixed up, I threw some sun-cream and a rain-coat in the car just to be sure to be sure. Bringing out the sun-cream generally results in a massive rain shower about 10 minutes afterwards so you've got to be prepared. Got in the car, Tifosi sunglasses on, and headed down the road...
for the best part of half a mile before I remembered I'd left the turbo trainer and wheel in the house. Classic.

Practice lap was grand, with a couple of new bits added to the course from last year to keep us on our toes, thanks to the hard work of the trail fairies from XMTB. Nothing really technical to worry about, and it was all nice and dry, so got round it pretty quick and didn't need to stop to look at anything, happy days. The Giant was all Fenwicks'ed up and running sweet, so it was back to the car to fuel up with some Torq.

He's probably beaten you too

With the main man Robin Seymour (Olympian, Irish Cross Country Champ 20 odd times, Irish Cyclocross Champ 20 odd times etc.) signed up to race, I was looking forward to trying to catch him. As a Junior, we generally start about a minute behind the S1/Elite category, but Martin Grimley (he basically runs Irish mountain-bike racing) is a bit of a hero in letting us off a little early sometimes, which gives me a bit more of a chance of getting up to play with the big boys.

Clutching her

2pm came about and I went off to get lined up to be gridded. With the blowing of a whistle and the mashing of pedals, I got off to a relatively decent start, 2nd wheel behind Max Van Der Lee for the first couple of corners. Got by Max and set about bridging up to the rear end of the S1 race. Was making a grand old job of this; sitting about 7th S1 halfway into lap 1. As I passed good friend and S1 racer Simon Curry, he told me to keep it steady and smooth. This seemed a logical approach, and I returned gestures of agreement... So it was kind of awkward a couple of minutes later, when he came back past me as I was picking myself off the ground. Whoops.
All had been going well til I got behind a S1 rider just before probably the most technical and fast bit of the track; a thin, twisty downhill ledge. I wanted to get past before this section as I knew I'd be stuck once we got into it - there was only room for one bike - but I couldn't get round, so I had to settle behind him and make the most of a bit of recovery time. Unfortunately I turned the recovery dial a bit too far, fell asleep, caught something in the ground and high-sided straight through a pretty fast corner. This was quite a substantial knock, and the old 'screw it, I'm still 1st junior; forget about catching Seymour and just ride round' mindset crept up on me for a brief moment, but thankfully, after a bit of searching, I found the button to re-engage beast mode, and we were off again.

Naps are an essential component of high performance. The remnants of  my earlier nap visible on  my shoulder and knee

So back to 15th S1, I had a bit of catching up to do, but it was actually quite nice. In most of the races this year I've got through the rear end of S1 within the first lap, then spend the next 3 or 4 laps pretty lonely, occasionally catching a glimpse of the first couple of riders. This time, it took me the whole way back to the start/finish to get back to the same S1 rider I fell off behind, so I still had good company and a few S1s to catch for the next lap, chasing down S1 team-mates Graham Boyd and Matt Adair.

Munching some air

By the end of lap 3, as I came into the start/finish area I could see 1st and 2nd S1, Seymour and McKee, about 30 seconds up the road, so I knew I was making good time on them and was in with a chance. Seymour put a brave kick into McKee, trying to get away for the win, so this upped the pace a bit which wasn't very thoughtful :) I gave her all the stacks that I had and tried my best to make ground on them, and as we came into the 2nd half of the course I could see I was only about 20 seconds behind now.

Boo!

I caught McKee at the bottom of the final climb, but Seymour had made a bit of ground on him by this stage, so I still had a bit to go. Smashing through the last couple of turns through the trees and back out into the finish area, I could see Seymour just up ahead; I probably put a year's wear into the chain in the space of 200m as I put the last effort in.

You've got to make it at least look like you're trying

Taking care not to fall around the final feed-zone corner (I'd already been round it on my bottom at the end of lap 2; flat grass turns are endless fun), I crossed the line to the chequered flag somewhere between 5 and 10 seconds down on Seymour. Hello anti-climax. Ah well, there's always next time eh. 1st Junior by 9 minutes, with 12minutes back to 3rd, happy enough.

McKee put in a deadly lap 5 (S1s did another lap over Juniors) and held the gap on Seymour, but yet again it was to be the King, Robin Seymour (WORC) taking the S1 win, with Gareth McKee (CRC/Vitus) in 2nd and Graham Boyd (XMTB McConvey Cycles) in 3rd.

Nonetheless, a super day's racing and it was awesome to see everyone out in the sun riding their bikes and smiling. No mechanicals and generally a pretty smooth and steady race after my eagerness was knocked out of me at the start.

As usual, McConveys Cycles are a big help, with an extensive range of bicycle bits and clothes. It kills me to have lost the mighty Pisspot of grand Bulletman/Bomberboy fame; it was a super little helmet and I've pretty much kickstarted a worldwide trend if you look at any of the boys winning Grand Tour stages or CX races.

RIP old pal

My Specialized S-works Prevail made the transition a little easier, as it's a class helmet, although this whole helmet hair business is a bit new for me. Specialized S-works shoes are also fantastic. The soles are almighty stiff so you can feel everything and can put the power down anywhere. They're also kind of snazzy looking. Fenwick's sprayey stuff does what it says on the tin, and has been essential in keeping the bikes ticking over after all the stinking races we've done so far. Their Disc Brake Cleaner will take any kind of dirt off anything. Torq's gels, bars and drinks taste great and there's some good science behind them so you can be confident they're helping you out. Banoffee and Rhubarb and Custard gels have to be tasted to be believed! Tifosi's glasses are comfy and light and do a grand job of keeping the sun out of your eyes and making you look rad. The Giant XTC 29er bus is fit for anything from black DH trails to pump tracks and all out XC racing, I've tried it on all of them! It's also pretty good for hanging your wet kit over and it fits in the back of my mum's Seat Leon, what more could you ask for. Also, thanks to Belfast City Council for allowing us into the beautiful Lady Dixon park, it's such an awesome venue for fast racing and us mountain-bikers are awfully appreciative of your continued support.

http://elitetiming.co.uk/Results/NPS_R4_Class.pdf - Results

That's all for now. Got some A-Levels or something I'm told.
Monty, out.

Mud, Sweat, and, emmm Little Mix.. (Ulster XC Series Round 6 - Craigavon)

BEEP BEEEEP BEEPPEDY BEEPPP BEEEP!! Wehhhh, go away alarm. As I mustered up every last ounce of 7.30am effort I could muster, in return I got to see the most laughably half assed claw for my phone through the furry haze that used to be my eyes. A little like one of those arcade machines that can never quite grab the fluffy bunny or rubber duck that you never wanted in the first place. With a couple more attempts, I got a hold of my phone/alarm and squashed it til it cried no more.

The night before I'd gone to bed nice and early, last bit of recovery before the last XC race of the season. Unfortunately, try as I might, I was still counting sheep til long after midnight: maybe I slept too much over Summer. Consequently, the battle to conquer what lay beyond my bed on Sunday morning wasn't greeted with much valour.

Many scrambled eggs, spinach, fruit and a cold shower later, I was beginning to feel a bit more rad. Dude. All out of beetroot juice though, much emotional distress as a result. Got some clothes thrown in a bag, some tools thrown in another bag, some powder thrown into some bottles, and some shaking done to said bottles. The main man, of Team Maxbo fame, Barry Van Kellett, was most generous in offering me a lift for the morning, so all was left to wait for himself to roll up. And what better place than back to bed to wait. It's tough at the top.

I'd say something nice about driving through Lurgan and Craigavon, but I'd only be lying. Van Kellett stopped to buy a bottle of water and I put on my scariest face and sucked some air into my biceps as I guarded the bikes. Ross Kemp come at mah'.

Got to Craigavon Lakes, I know, a Cross Country Mountain-Bike race around a pond, it doesn't make much sense, but it definitely does make for much pain. Being relatively light, I can pull away from the heavier strong-men on climbs as it's all power:weight, but with it being a pretty flat track, power:weight ain't all that important, so I was promised an absolute hammering session from my fellow S2 men. I could feel my little legs tremble at the thought.

Some craic, a practice lap, and a race number with nothing to attach it to my bike with, later, I got back to the car to catch some rays before kick-off. Zak Hanna was also rolling in the Barrymobile for the day, so myself and him lay back, ate some food and listened to some radio. Little did I know how much that'd haunt me for the rest of the race. Little Mix, you aren't even a real band.

Next up, I'd a warmup to do. I was chatting away to Richard Stewart by the car, probably discussing some super serious tactical plans(...) as usual, having the craic. A little shooting pain in my back. What's that now? Hurt a bit, but not too bad, fairly sure I was imagining things, carried on chatting. Normally a little shooting pain like that goes away after a second or two, this one, not so much. Was just around my HR monitor so I thought maybe I'd snagged it or something. Trying my best not to look like a wimp and carry on conversation, I stuck my hand up to have a feel around. See if Van Kellett had really gone as far to shoot me, to sabotage my chances of winning. Felt something! Like a burr off a tree, the wee prickly thing must've jabbed me. Went to pull it out, but as my fingers gripped it tighter, it was far too soft to be a bur, not to mention the fact it was moving. STING! Again. It was a bloody wasp stuck down my bib-shorts and I'd just been stung twice. Never a dull day. Pulled the remains of the wasp out of my leg in utter disbelief. How it got down my shorts I'll never know.

Got a relatively good warmup done as far as warmups go. Started a bit early, and then ended a bit early. I managed to get my chain stuck between two chainrings when shifting down off the big ring. Effort Daveee. Took me a solid 5mins (which feels like 5hrs when your race starts in about 10mins) and some very oily hands, to get it pulled back out. Ideal race prep. Never sweated so much in my life.

I love this next photo. There were no S1 riders on the day, this is the S2 field - the fastest men of the day - lined up with only minutes to the race. I don't think I've ever seen such a chilled out start line. So much awesome, what a fine bunch of men.

The man with the whistle blew his whistle, (with relative ease and finesse, must be a Flo Rida fan) and we were off. Stuart Ballantine got a class start, and I made my way towards him as best as I could. The first few corners were absolute madness, what used to be Craigavon's finest grass had turned to the slideyestest mud ever, and my fine choice of a Specialized Renegade on the front and fairly worn Racing Ralph on the rear meant I was going nowhere unless it was sideways. I'd've been safer bringing some ice-skates.

 For the first time of the day, things had gone to plan and I'd got clear of everybody else (apart from Stu) so had plenty of time and room to get round the corners in one piece. Got past Stu and was on my own for a couple of seconds, but that definitely wasn't the plan. I hadn't mentioned this yet, I don't know how I'd forgotten, but the race was 6 laps. 6 LAPS! Yes the tracks are always different, but we generally do 4 laps, and my shagged knees limit my endurance training a lot. Not good! So the plan was to sit in 2nd for as long as I could and let somebody else worry about pacing. If I could make it to the end, super, if I couldn't, shame, if I made it to the end with enough left in the tank to get into 1st, perfect.

Robbie Lamont came past, and Simon Curry and Ross Blayney were with us too, along with Stuart. The first lap was fast. I was sitting in 4th when Stuart attacked before Craigavon's one and only hill that we happened to be going up, up the back of the course. Which normally would've been grand, but this part of the trail was only wide enough for one bike, so I'd no mission of getting round those infront of me and onto Stuarts wheel. I sat there as he picked up ground, nothing I could do. Thankfully the trail then came to an open grassy bit, so I was able to get round and catch upto him again. Sit in 2nd, plan.

We were riding fast through the singletrack, really fast.  Normally I'm super focussed in a race, there's not much to think about when you're chewing on air for all its worth, but with such a long race, it was a little different this time. That sitting in the car earlier, so unassumingly listening to Radio 1, chilling out. Well from that, that new Little Mix song was firmly wedged between my ears, and flippsake but I could hear nothing else. My thoughts went a little something like, 'corner, brake, pedal, mamma told me not... corner, brake, mamma told.. corner, pedal, pedal, mamma told me not to waste my life, she said... sprint, corner, mamma told me not to waste my life, she said spread your wings my little butterfly.. etc.' . For-ever. I was by no means ever a Little Mix fan, but I actively dislike them now. Horrfic. 'least it wasn't Nicki Minaj.

Skip forward a bit, Robbie, Simon and Ross caught up, and Stuart disappeared. For the next couple of laps we swapped places, but everyone was looking very strong. I was able to copy all the sneaky XMTB lines and it was brilliant fun to be riding with other people after spending so much time racing out on my own all year! What an experience it was to race. I kid you not: we met a horse, dogs, an old lady raking her mobility scooter, and countless parents and kids all over the trail. More people in 90mins  than Davagh forest has seen in its lifetime!

The track was taking no prisoners, and after gobbling up Stu, Ross was the next to go, breaking his seat or something on the Ice Rink... And then there were three. From here, there were probably one or two laps to go. Very, very fortunately I wasn't as tired as I'd have expected, all was going to plan. We lost Simon somewhere, and then there were two! If disaster stayed at bay, we'd be on the podium. Sweeet as. For the last lap, my legs were feeling like they would love a good cramp, so rather than attacking, I held onto Robbie's wheel and rode as conservatively as possible... as you can see.

Got to the same bit as Stuart had attacked at the start of the race, just a hill and the slippy corners to go, and attacked. Thankfully my legs played ball, and we sprinted up the hill. Slid round the corners, sprinted up some more hills, and I'd pulled away by a reasonable distance. Eased it off a bit and spun over the line, job done. 1hr 36mins of racing, I could feel every second. Couldn't have asked for a better finish to the season. A hell of a lot tougher than usual, but such tight races are fantastic justification for every night spent sleeping, and every morning spent training, when all me mates are out on the rip. I love racing me bike.

Big thanks to everyone who's helped me out in any way over the season especially me mammy and daddy for putting up with me. As always, Rynopower and Green Oil have been a dream to use, Rynopower is so far ahead of the game, and Green Oil does everything and more you could ever ask of it. To everyone who's done my bottles, given me a lift, cheered me on, read this blog, looked pretty with me on podium photos, taken photos, given me advice or lent me parts, I love you, srs.

Next up is my first ever season of Cyclocross, from October to January. Excited.

Monty's 2012 XC Season, over and out. Thanks again.

Irish National XCO Championships 2012 - Djouce Wood - Sunday

Breakfast time at 8am began with a bowl of fruit, it'd be rude not to. Following that was a bowl of cereal for the same reasons. Then we were presented with the real menu, and it was only politeness to order a ham, cheese and tomato omelette. Some toast was set on the table, probably about 6 slices of that were on my plate at one stage and then mysteriously disappeared. Before I knew it, a fairly sizeable slice of wheaten bread found its way onto my plate and everybody knows a plate cannot be left til it's clean. A good 30mins after we'd began, it was finally over, we'd conquered it. Job done. Many sighs of relief. Chilling out, chatting away, and next thing the B&B owner comes over to the table with a plate of peppers and carrot. The boys had been joking that I wanted some cabbage in my omelette as I usually have a good plate of spinach and beetroot juice with me breakfast. Inspired by this and my lettuce eating acts of the previous day when we had arrived in the car, the B&B owner had no cabbage, but had thrown together the best meal she could in the form of peppers and carrot. Much laughing was done, and then the reality struck that I was gonna have to eat this too. Life's hard at the top. Not one to back away from a food based challenge, I set about the 'icing on the cake' as it was. Solid preparation for a race not too many hours later on in the day, right? This is what Joe (friel) would want.

Wind things on a bit to 1.30pm, as I hopped on the turbo and got the legs spinning to prepare for the battle of epic proportions that loomed ahead like a tropical(e.g places such as Kinallen) storm. Tunes were a blasting on the iPod as I got to work. If I could go back in time right now I'd probably go there and turn the sun down and not have ended up with bib-short tan lines on my back: probably not the best look.

Gave my bottles to Lucy(thanks ever so much, you did an awesome job) and headed off to the start line. Line up behind the mighty Elite force of Irish XC MTB we did, and watch in awe as they tore the start field to bits, McKee's steak from the night before clearly not quite affecting him yet as he took the holeshot. A minute later, or so, "I'm gonna blow the whistle within the next 10seconds" announced the man with the whistle. I guess this meant we were meant to go then.

I think I missed this memo. Everybody took off, I tried to clip in while in the land of fluffy elephants and cows with trunks. Probably y-fronts. I was either in 2nd last or last place as we hit the first corner. Hmmm. Got out of the saddle and sprinted a bit to get a good line into the next corner, but to no avail. Awwwh fork. Tried again before the next corner came, this time I made some ground and got a good line through the corner, slipping into 3rd or 4th as we headed down the hill towards a rough and rooty bit of singletrack. Out of the whole course, I think this was one of the toughest bits, so hard to build or maintain any sort of rhythm over the random roots and holes, although the lads on 29'ers probably just thought they were riding on a bouncy castle as usual.

First real climb of the track was a steep one, attacked on this and didn't look back. Heard tyres behind me for far too long and worried a little bit, but thankfully by the first bit of singletrack I was all on my lonesome. 'Battled with my machine' as Phil Liggett would say, through the veins of the earth, managing to stay upon my bicycle relatively well. Then onto XTC's descent. So, so beautiful. Bump, bump, berm, berm, berm, bump, berm, jump... you get the picture. Probably still losing about 10 seconds a corner to Gareth, but the entire track had a devilish tendency to leave you absolutely kebabed for any of the 'fun' descents. A final berm and bump shot you out onto the fireroad at lightspeed, and it felt only right to try and maintain the pace to the next section of trail and make motorbike noises to yourself. 

A hugely technical but fairly short descent ensued, a proper bike killer: rough, rooty, twisty, slippy. In practice I could hit this sweet as you like, but come race time, on every lap I made some stupid mistakes after leaving all my energy behind on the fireroad to get there. As the gaps between the trees got smaller every lap, my shoulders got more and more battered as I pinballed my way down.

A fun off camber descent, some more bermy corners and a deadly steep climb(there were some shouty people here on my 3rd lap, spectators are awesome!) and then as your memory told you you should be ripping down a super fast straight line descent back to the fireroad, the trail turned up the hill. Here, it seemed no man had boldly stepped before, a small hill for Seymour and a large hill for mankind. I didn't even notice this climb on my first practice lap as I was so preoccupied with trying to stay in a straight line with 40psi in my tyres, but unfortunately, come race time, I had no such luxury. It was tough going, very steep, but also enough roots and technical bits to completely flummox you if you lost even half a degree of concentration.

 To prove this point, obviously just for your benefit, on my 3rd lap I lost my concentration for a second. It came back relatively quickly as my rear end slipped out on a root. Brain says dab left foot - foot follows suit - brain did not calculate the steepness of the hill we were riding on the side of and the fact that the ground below my left shoe was a good 30cm below where it should be - eject. So as I rolled down the hill mostly on my face I just hoped that there was nobody close behind me that I'd be stuck behind for the rest of the climb. More important was probably getting back to my bike, easier said than done when lying in the opposite direction you would like to be on the side of a huge hill. With an allmighty pressup I pushed the earth down and myself up, and slipped my way up the hill back to my bike. Getting started again was 'interesting', and once you'd lost your rhythm, it was extremely tough going on the climb that I hadn't noticed the day before.

Final lap, mostly having fun smashing turns out behind the people I was lapping, then back to the sufferfest once I got round them. It finally struck me that I had won as I hit the last bit of singletrack coming back into the start field, so I threw the best whip that my lack of energy could do, and stood up and got on the pedals to push it in to the line and clear a bit more room for post-race binging. Coming through the start field was awesome with all the tech/feed zone crew cheering and the finish flag just around the next corner. Popped an absolutely horrific wheelie as I crossed the line and that was it for another year. Irish Junior XC Champion. 

A huge sigh of relief as the entire year's being a bumder, missing loads of parties, not really leaving the house, spending every last penny on my bicycle, training all on my own, going to bed early etc. was completely worth it as I crossed the line with another 9 minutes passing before 2nd place came home.

Thanks to all the family members, friends, accomplices and sponsors behind the scenes that make it possible! As always, rocking Green Oil's fine products on my bike, and Rynopower in my belly.

Monty, over and out.

(Ps to anybody wondering how I can win an XC National Championships, but not ride a local road race, my knee is still giving me loads of trouble, and flares up really badly if I'm on the bike for more than 2hrs. Mtb races are 1h-1h30, while road races are 2/3/4h, I'd love to be racing them, but I physically can't at the minute)

Irish XC NPS 6, Davagh Forest

Today, some boys ran round a field, faffing around after a ball on tv, and falling over a bit. Closer to home, some boys sat on motorcross bikes, ploughed a field in Desertmartin and blew apart some old ladies' hearing aids. The real men, you'll have found in Davagh Forest, in a fearsome battle against every force mother nature could bring, armed only with some bottles of juice and a bicycle. Man vs. much mud and many midges. Heroes of war we should all be crowned, for just surviving.

As I finally scrape enough of Davagh Forest's finest mud out of what's left of my eyes to get two clear bits I can see through, I guess it's time to put some words down. I was told once that if you've a couple of sore bits, the body tends to pick up the worst pain most, and forget about the other ones. After punching my arm silly before going into the dentist's one day, coming out tail firmly between my legs: throbbing arm, some deadly painful holes were there used to be teeth, and an incredible vengeance at who-ever was winding me up, I was less than convinced. Only today did it strike me where I went wrong all those years ago: I needed a yellow bottle of 'midge repellent cream', that someone had used all up, then decided to keep their Hydrochloric Acid in. Who's was that? Boyyyy did it burn. Suddenly all the other niggles disappeared, my brain seemed much more concerned that the skin on my face was about to disappear too. I may stick to the Skin So Soft in future...

As I left the house, with only the directions on Carn Wheelers's website and my worse than awful sense of direction, I tapped 'Davagh Rd' into the Sat Nav... 'road not found'. Hmm. I'll try the next mentioned road. 'Sixtowns Rd'... 'road not found'. Technology, eh. This was looking good already!

We finally got up to Davagh late Saturday evening. Most of my family lives up around that end of the country, so I thought it'd be handier to get a lap in on Saturday, kip up at Granda's for the night, then scoot back over to Davagh in the morning for my day's bog snorkelling. At about 7.30pm, mother and myself pulled into an empty carpark in the furthest depths of nowhere's rear end, and Mum's expectations of a happy little camping village with lots of nice people on bikes milling about, fell faster than the Greek economy. Definitely a potential spot for a good scary movie. Didn't have contact lenses in, do have a box of 30 of them or something, but thought I'd save them to the big day, counting my pennies. While lying on my head in a bush in the first section, I decided it would've probably been better if I could see where I was going.

Looked at some fancy lines through the first section, tried riding them, fell off some more, and eventually just thought screw it, we'll probably still be congested by this stage so I'm not going to make or lose much time: ride the main line. Some technical climbs and descents round the rest of the track made for great fun, but it was a true hard-man's course, no let-up at all; pedal, pedal and pedal some more. Tyre choice was going to be a huge factor. Mud tyres seemed logical, for half the track was riding through bottomless bog, but then the other half of the track was smooth singletrack or fireroad. Oh what to do? Go with my worn out driest tyres obviously. Semi-slick Specialized Renegade on the front, kinda grippy Schwalbe Racing Ralph on the rear: it would be doing the steering.

Fast forward a bit to race day, woke up and the sky was still leaking; the track wasn't gonna be any drier anyway. Race was off at 2pm, so hopped on the turbo at about 1.45 and got some blood moving in the legs. Let out as much liquid weight as possible, and headed down to the line. Gridding got started for the mighty men of S2 and our Junior selves, and I was on the front row somehow, awesome. There was no pressure for a good start as the track had about a mile of fire road climbing before any singletrack suffering began. That said, I still did intend to put my foot into my pedal rather than the ground as the whistle went(or whatever they do to start the race, is it only me that honestly can't remember!?), but didn't quite get it in, so was about 20th before I knew it. 

Up the fireroad it was crazy as usual. People ducking and diving everywhere, one side of the road to the other, anywhere there was a gap, or they thought there was a gap, they'd jump into it. More times than not it was only in their imagination, resulting in the glorious tune of tyre buzzing and f'ing announcing our arrival. Men and mice separated, we hit the first bit of bog, through a puddle, or pond moreso, and then a slip and slide down til we hit the gravel singletrack. Would've loved to have been a spectator for that bit, boys everywhere and every shape. Thankfully there's not much else to do where I live than ride around fields, and most of the time it's raining, so I was well used to the terrain.

Got through the start loop and onto the main track, sitting in 5th or so at this stage. Unfortunately Moses was no-where to be seen as we neared the red sea, so we could do nothing but ride through it and hope for the best every lap. Pre-jumped into it and held on tight. Hit the thing so hard on my 3rd lap my front foot clipped out on the impact!

Still a couple of people infront of me, so put in a good effort to get by them to get to the trenches first in the hope I wouldn't lose too much time on my dry tyres. As promised, this bit was deadly. Was like nature's own turbo trainer, you could sit there and pedal as hard as you like and still make no ground. Only managed to clear the whole thing once in my 4 laps, but it was great fun just trying to keep the bike upright and moving in it. Back onto a fireroad descent, into 1st now.

After that I just held it steady and gave her the beans every time I caught a glance of an S1 rider on up the trail. Tried my best not to slack on the fireroads to ensure I was doing my dry tyres worthwhile. Many many slips and slides came and went, to be expected on that type of track. Brilliant fun had. All overshadowed by almost losing it on a super high speed but really tight little bit of gravel singletrack towards the end of the lap though. Must've been doing a solid 20mph as my front wheel caught the inside of the corner, front end started to fold, all my weight went over the front, rear end started to slide a lot, all the ingredients for the perfect face first smash. Thankfully my foot magically appeared and saved my life... and then got caught in the hedge and the whole thing started to happen again! Like there wasn't enough soil in my bib shorts already! Some great descents on the track though, most of them were fairly high speed slidey rooty bits, kept you on your toes.

One of the bridges in the boggy bit had no wire mesh on the first half of it. Front wheel popped on fine, this was going to be ok, back wheel on, go to pedal off it... ABORT! Feet were only starting to dry out a bit after the river crossing, then boom, both feet in half a foot of water and half a foot of muck below it. Need a better offroad diff installed! Eventually by the 4th lap I'd caught on that riding over them would be quicker than falling into them; eased off a bit and made it over. Just.

Caught me bud Matt Adair halfway round the last lap, so cruised with him in to the finish. Crossed the line for the last time, 1st S2 and 1st Junior, happy days. Matt was shouting at me to come for another lap, but as tempting as it was, I'm still carrying far too many injuries to be able to risk doing any more than required! Laughed at him having to drag his body round the battlefield for another lap, and took the much more inviting fire-road back to the car, to get some food.

Big thanks to Rynopower and the much needed Green Oil for the support. The bike cleaner was definitely of use! Thanks to Carn Wheelers for the class show they put on (lovely trophies too), Martin Grimley for keeping things running smoothly, all of the photographers, me mummy for taking me down, Brian Kellett for doing my bottles, everybody that moved over when I called 'rider up', all of S2 for leaving me alone, and Paddy and Stuart for a big hug on the podium. Oh and whoever supplied the box of bananas at the end can't be forgotten either, cheers!

Monty, out.