The pleasure derived from the sport of Mountain biking never ceases to amaze me. Regardless of motivation, be it racing or social riding, winning or participating, smashing out fast laps or grinding out lap upon lap, the result is always the same. An incredible sense of achievement, hours spent in beautiful outdoor locations and wonderful company from a nicer group of people no other sport, I've ever been involved in, comes close to matching.

The last few weeks have been some of the most testing of my life and I was, more so than I can ever remember, in need of some mountain bike elixir. After receiving a written warning from my school employers for fighting for higher moral and ethical standards from other staff members, I returned home on Friday afternoon in a distressed and confused state, packed for the long journey to the Upper Hunter Valley, and reversed my car straight into an oncoming vehicle. After the sound of metal smashing into metal and my initial shock subsided, I was able to step out of the car and inspect the damage. Whatever the cost happens to be, I am thankful I did not hit a Mercedes, BMW or, worse still, a pedestrian. 

I looked left to see multiple World Champion, Jason English, ex world Champion Craig Gordon and the fastest rider in the race,Trenton Day. Looking right, was Andrew Lloyd, Paris Basson, Peter Selkrig and Brett Bellchambers. I was smack bang in the middle of all of them. What the hell was I doing? Worse still, up and coming youngster, Max Richardson was directly behind me. My main rival in the Master's Category, Jamie Vogele, had taken up a sensible position in the third row, so had Benjy Morris. Crafty, the event compere, spoke to Jason English, mentioning he had taken his rightful place on the front line. So what was I doing there? I was an interloper, a gatecrasher, a trespasser who would be the subject of ridicule and torment if I was to hold up the hundreds of riders behind me. I braced myself - 15 seconds to the start - my heart rate was already over 100. 

I hungrily devoured a couple of chocolate chip cookies that James Lamb had left on my transition table, as well as two energy bars, but I was still neglecting to refuel fully. Although I didn't know it at the time, Jamie had suddenly put the hammer down. Perhaps he knew I was weakening. With possibly three laps to race, I was barely hanging on, while Jamie was charging. A 17 minute lead was reduced to 12 minutes in just two laps. I started my last lap, feeling incredibly hungry and dizzy. I began the initial climb out of transition and managed to steal some savoury biscuits and gummy bears from Pete Selkrig's transition zone. The sugar had no immediate effect. I was now descending the singletrack but struggling to focus on the course and even running off the side of the track and into trees. Riders were passing me and I was powerless to follow. Like a boxer, I was out on my feet, surviving merely by instinct. I was not going to come this far and lose it all on the last lap. Brett Bellchambers came past and noted my disposition which he told me later was bordering on 'confused' and 'disorientated'. Jamie was closing in and I still had half the lap to complete. 

I drained my water and a light flickered on deep in my cerebrum. Impulses surged from grey to white matter and down my spinal cord, firing the motor neurons in my legs. Perhaps inspired by a combination of the image of Brett Bellchambers and Event Organiser, Martin Wisata's insistence on playing the Eurovision Song Contest's transgender winner, Conchita Wurst's song, Rise Like a Phoenix several times that night. Out of the ashes I was reborn and I was moving more freely as I approached the final descent into the event centre. I kicked for home, making it across the line a mere four minutes ahead of a charging Jamie Vogele. I had secured my first win of the year, a hattrick of Jetblack 12 hour wins, but only just. Clayton Locke was third, one lap behind, with Kevin Wynne-Smythe a creditable fifth in his first twelve hour solo race. James Lamb and Paris Basson finished with line honours, while Jason English beat Andrew Lloyd in the elite solo and Wendy Stevenson won the Solo Female Elite.

This weekend saw the launch of JetBlack Racing, Australia's largest, and without doubt brightest, Mountain Bike Racing Team. With a roster of 45 riders, aged 20 to 60, one of the most admirable goals of the team is to promote family and female participation in the sport. While achieving podium positions at the 'pointy end', it is hoped that the culture of success will filter through the whole team, thereby contributing to improved performances, skills and knowledge acquisition for all the riders, regardless of ability. Signing the youth and exceptional talent, that is Andrew Lloyd, the experience and versatility of Peter Selkrig and the ability of top female master Catherine Wood, will please the numerous sponsors and augers well for the 2014 season.

Personally, I am extremely excited to be racing for a new team and I was hoping to show my appreciation, by delivering victory in their inaugural race. The 6+6 format was first introduced as an entry level race for 24 hours. Riders start at 12 pm with the 24 hour racers, but finish at 6 pm, rest for 12 hours, before restarting at 6 am and completing the race at the same time as the 24 hour competitors. In 2010, I raced my first 6+6 at Del Rio, Wiseman's Ferry and took my first ever race victory. At the time, I felt it was a 'soft' option but I now believe it is actually an excellent style of racing. It is possible to race hard for six hours, and with 12 hours recovery, return to the track and smash out another series of rapid laps. The result is a highly rewarding experience, rather than the slugfest that is 24 hour racing.

The concerns over the track conditions, with Sydney delivering large falls of rain in the preceding days, were to prove misguided. I've raced at Mt. Annan several times, but the track was in the best condition I've ever known. My warm-up lap whet my appetite, as I realised how much smoother the course was, while the rain had settled the dust, leaving the track pleasingly tacky. I started well, but, believing I was competing against last year's overall winner, Chris Hansen, from Darwin, I was mentally prepared for a difficult race ahead. I needn't have worried, as the Chris Hansen in this race completed a mere 6 laps overall. Unaware of my overall position, I targeted catching my solo sparring partner, Peter Selkrig. At the end of lap five, I had caught him and he was unusually content to follow my wheel. Shortly after starting the seventh lap, Pete suffered the first of two punctures and my new-found companion was gone. 

As a solo endurance mountain biker, it is important to ride within yourself and, ultimately, attempt to achieve consistent lap times. Many novices make the mistake of riding too fast, too hard, too early. It is much wiser to hold some energy in reserve and concentrate on smooth, efficient riding. My focus turned to achieving this goal. After the first six hours, my lap times ranged between 28.28 to 30.34 minutes. I crossed the line five minutes before six and knew I would be able to put in an extra lap over my nearest rivals. On finishing, I was informed I was leading by 18 minutes in the Master's category and I was 4th overall in the entire solo field. 

I was extremely satisfied with my performance and my position. Better still, I could now relax and chat, eat 'real' food, spend some 'down time' with my gorgeous wife, Greer, and hopefully get some sleep. I was stationed next to singlespeed mountain bike legend, Brett 'Jeebus' Bellchambers, who was tearing the 24 hour solo field to shreds. For once, he was welcome to the next 12 hours and the long night, for I was not competing against him.

The Jetblack Racing Team had supplied a mountain of chicken, salads and bread rolls, and I greedily devoured the delicious offerings. Meanwhile, I watched the 24 hour riders, as they prepared their bikes for the darkness ahead. The light began to fade and the cool fingers of the night began to close tightly around us. I chatted to Kevin 'Kevlar' Wynne-Smythe, of the JetBlack Racing Masters Fours, whose team were involved in an almighty tussle for the top three category places. Once again, I was reminded of how pleasant it was to be wrapped up in warm clothes and relaxing, instead of searching for every last sinew of strength out on track. After a pleasant stroll through the Botanical Gardens my wife and I retired to our tent, where I was able to muster some fragmented sleep.

I was at the start line at just after six o'clock, looking forward to re-commencing the battle. Peter Selkrig had just departed and so I chatted briefly to Clayton Locke, currently sitting in second in the Master's category, eighteen minutes behind. As he set off for his first lap of the day, I noticed he seemed strangely relaxed. Had he given up the chase? I felt the psychological advantage was undoubtedly with me. Not only was I at least half a lap up, but I knew he was only twelve minutes up the road. I could focus on chasing him down, and figured that, given the best case scenario, I could achieve this in just over six laps. Furthermore, pairs riders, Mike Israel and Ian Bridgland, were starting just behind me, and so I endeavoured to stay ahead for as long as possible, thereby providing me with even more impetus to ride well.

My mind began to wander as I passed rider after rider. 'Track when ready...thank you...track when you can...awesome...two riders...have a great ride...enjoy your lap'. In my mind, I had already designed and constructed the electronic bike accessory which would utter the above phrases when activated by a handlebar-mounted button. Like a toy, with a cord draped from its back, the exact phrases would vary in order to provide variety and interest!

On the second last lap, I had caught and passed Clayton, who seemed to be labouring. With victory assured, I knew a final lap was not really necessary, but I still harboured hopes of breaking into the top three overall. Cory Wallace, Canadian 24 hour National Champion, Crocodile Trophy second place-getter, and all-round 'top guy' was to only finish one lap in front, while Daniel Beresford and Duncan Middleton were to finish seventeen and fourteen minutes ahead respectively. Overall, a great result and my third Masters win for the year. Jet Black Racing was to finish with eight podiums, including five first places, with fellow soloist, Peter Selkrig, comfortably winning the Super Masters Category.

Personally, with ten podiums out of twenty races across all formats, the year has been extremely rewarding. My goal of becoming World 24 hour Solo Champion in my age category will have to wait another year, but a successful foray into stage racing with the Crocodile Trophy, Series victory in the Rocky Trail 7 hour events and third place overall in the STM 7 hour Series, has meant my season has been a great success. The prospects for next year, with the new Jetblack Racing Team, look highly promising, and I believe I still have much to learn and several areas I can improve, so hopefully my racing will continue to go from strength to strength.

Fortunately, most of the pressure was lifted from me because I was clearly not the favourite. That honour was bestowed on good friend and training partner Pete Selkrig, who even featured in the event advertising. Returning from a successful foray in Austria at the Trans Alp stage race, Pete was looking exceptionally quick and formidably strong on the bike. I knew that he would set a lightning pace at the start and I would just have to sit in and attempt to hunt him down. I expected to be chasing for most, if not all, of the allotted twelve hours of competition. 

As we lined up to start, I eyed Pete close to the front and I pushed my way through the self-seeded riders to be perched right beside him. At least I was in touching distance, even if racing hadn't even begun. World Champion, Jason English spoke at the start, as is custom for such an esteemed rider, and one minute was called before the gun was to be fired. 'Eye of the Tiger' belted through the speakers, which was fitting, because just like Rocky, I felt like a massive underdog in this fight for glory. A surge of adrenaline was triggered and we exploded into the first corner and the short climb out of the event centre.

Just before we entered the first section of singletrack Pete rolled to a halt - a mechanical of sorts, I assumed, but the race was flashing by and there was no time to assess the situation. In front of me was the fast-starting Michael Crummy which suggested I was in a good place at the head of the field. Someone came to grief on a technical ascent and the race behind came to a temporary standstill. As a result, to close the gap on those ahead, more energy was expended. But I knew Pete would be back chasing as hard as ever to recover his initial placing. Sure enough, it was half way through the ten kilometre lap when he came streaking by and soon disappeared further up the track. As I had originally envisaged, I was chasing.

Going through the timing tent, I was told to straighten out my number plate which the girls were unable to read to record my completed lap time. This posed a problem because every second counts in these races and with so much at stake I didn't want to lose several minutes re-fitting the number. I tried to do it on the fly but this resulted in tearing the attachment hole. The plate flapped limply against my cables and was now impossible to read. I decided to call my number every time I went through transition and offered a smile and a few jocular words. I hoped this would be enough for them to remember me and I could return to the business of tracking my prey who was probably many minutes ahead. The strategy worked.

Four hours had elapsed, and as I lapped Female Master solo rider, Wendy Stevenson, she updated me on the situation ahead. It was incredible news. Pete was only a few minutes in front and he was not happy. I was filled with renewed vigour and I pedalled with increased enthusiasm. At transition, another friend and track spy Dave Langley (riding in a pair and not in direct competition with me, for once) thrust up three fingers and shouted excitedly that the gap was only three minutes and closing. More inspiration. I knew this could take time and so I increased the pace but not so much as to put me in difficulty later. I have learnt that patience is a virtue in these situations. As I hit an open paddock area I was greeted with the sight of a labouring Pete Selkrig. So soon but so welcome. This time I surged towards him and was soon on his wheel. A drink of liquid and then I waited for a passing opportunity and a chance to pounce. The track opened up and as I swept past him I attempted to keep the power down. Surely he would follow but he didn't. I didn't look back. On entering transition, I passed Garry James who was off the bike and looking worse for wear. Another major threat looked like his day was done.

Nothing is guaranteed in racing mountain bikes and I knew I was leading but, as I had learnt last week, complacency can really hurt you. A health issue like the one that had befallen Garry, cramping and mechanical issues which later transpired were Pete's problem, or a crash can change the whole landscape. There was over seven hours to go and I needed to stay focussed. Nevertheless, I couldn't help but think of my beloved wife in England, who I knew was thinking of me, and the hours of sacrifice I was making this year in the name of enduro racing. I became emotional and then I noticed my laboured breathing and snapped out of the trance. I re-gathered myself and continued to ride as strongly as I could.

As night began to fall, I was getting word from the transition area that I was leading the Crocodile Trophy competition. 'Crocodile Man, Crocodile Man' echoed in my ears. The hours previously, several songs had pulsed through my head, not least and on several occasions, one of my current favourites 'Radioactive Man' by the 'Imagine Dragons'. Perhaps like Spiderman, I had someone been affected by radiation from the disappearing sun and morphed into the aforementioned Crocodile Man. I amused myself with the notion and then prepared for the three and a half hours of night-riding. 

I recently acquired the new Exposure Reflex and Diablo and was amazed at the amount of light they produced. As Exposure claim 'I owned the night'. She was mine and so was the ticket. Racing through the pristine farm and bushland at night was made all the more pleasurable as each 10km loop ends riding through a pumping event centre complete with a resident DJ and large bonfire. This was enough to fuel the flickering fire that represented my remaining, somewhat depleted energy levels. I completed 220 kilometres and rolled to a halt where a posse of supporters surrounded me and offered congratulations. Pete was one of the first and he was extremely gracious in defeat, despite the obvious disappointment. Now the gruelling 9 day stage awaits me a mere week after the 24 hour World Solo's. This is definitely a race that I can now tick off the 'bucket list' and like it was with Rocky, it is a dream achieved against all the odds.