I glanced up at the airport clock as it flicked to 13.55 on Sunday the 13th May 2012. Armed with my Turner Flux and the scantest of essentials, I was awaiting the final boarding call for the 24 hour flight to Milan where I would rendezvous with my wife and drive south to Finale Ligure, on the Italian Riviera. My intention was to become the World Champion for the 40-44 age group in the inaugural WEMBO World Solo 24 Hour Mountain Bike Championship. Nobody could have possibly envisaged such an audacious objective two and a half years earlier.
In November 2009, a friend had asked me to ride in a team of two at the Fat Tyre Festival at Ourimbah and I readily accepted the invitation. Although I had never even considered racing before, I had just started to commute the ten kilometres to work and even managed to squeeze in a few hours of social mountain biking on weekends. How hard could approximately four hours of racing be?
The night before the race I received a call. My team mate was out - his daughter was sick and he needed to be at the hospital. I was now thrust into a team of one. Okay, this would be a lot tougher but I had built up a reputation as an endurance athlete from my younger years playing semi-professional rugby league. And I had the mental toughness and tenacity to just persevere when situations became more difficult. Still no problem. I was actually looking forward to the increased challenge.
In November 2009, a friend had asked me to ride in a team of two at the Fat Tyre Festival at Ourimbah and I readily accepted the invitation. Although I had never even considered racing before, I had just started to commute the ten kilometres to work and even managed to squeeze in a few hours of social mountain biking on weekends. How hard could approximately four hours of racing be?
The night before the race I received a call. My team mate was out - his daughter was sick and he needed to be at the hospital. I was now thrust into a team of one. Okay, this would be a lot tougher but I had built up a reputation as an endurance athlete from my younger years playing semi-professional rugby league. And I had the mental toughness and tenacity to just persevere when situations became more difficult. Still no problem. I was actually looking forward to the increased challenge.
On the day of the race the sun had decided to fire up early and as I heaved out the bulky Diamondback Mission 3 all-mountain bike the mercury had already nudged to sweltering levels. I had no idea of how to set up so I planned on coming off track to the boot of my car for water and food supplies. I insanely left a peanut butter sandwich beside the track on a low tree stump and headed for the start line.
Ourimbah is still one of my favourite mountain bike trails but today it was unleashing unrestrained devastation on a great many riders. Ambulances were appearing far too frequently as riders succumbed to the sizzling temperatures. It was announced that the race would be cut short for safety reasons. On the last lap my chain snapped but with help I was able to limp back to transition. Unbelievably, I finished 3rd in the Masters category and would podium in my first ever race. The seeds to the next few years’ obsession had been sown!
Ourimbah is still one of my favourite mountain bike trails but today it was unleashing unrestrained devastation on a great many riders. Ambulances were appearing far too frequently as riders succumbed to the sizzling temperatures. It was announced that the race would be cut short for safety reasons. On the last lap my chain snapped but with help I was able to limp back to transition. Unbelievably, I finished 3rd in the Masters category and would podium in my first ever race. The seeds to the next few years’ obsession had been sown!
Shortly after, I joined the Western Sydney Mountain Bike Club and my next three races were part of the club’s Stan’s No-Tubes 4 hour enduro series; my lights cut out in the Twilight race and my chain broke again in the third. I entered the club’s ‘B’ grade race in March and set off too fast, was swamped by the majority of the riders and was soon to have a spectacular crash launching myself into a double somersault over the the handlebars. This rather inauspicious start to my racing career did little to dampen my spirits.
Scouring the internet for upcoming races I came across the CORC 24 hour National Solo event. Now at this time it was prudent to sign up for races in the first few hours because the popular races had a tendency to sell out extremely quickly. I typed in my details and without thinking I submitted my payment. When I told Greer, my wife, she was slightly taken aback not quite believing what I had let myself in for.
That night I had a restless sleep. What had I done? Was it too late to get my money back? Firstly, I had only raced five times the longest being of six hours duration. I would have to ride eighteen hours more. Secondly, I was poorly equipped with a single bike that was more suitable for social riding, lights that lasted a mere hour last time out and, probably the most pertinent point, there were only two weeks’ before the actual race. As I struggled to sleep I resolved to dramatically increase my training to 24 hours in the first week and then taper the week before the race. I slept a few nervous, uneasy hours.
Incredibly, I found the time to train as I had planned and so I went to Majura Pines in Canberra fairly confident I could survive the ordeal. Greer insisted I sleep for a few hours during the night and with this I lined my bike up at the start. In honour of James Williamson there would be a parade lap, a fitting tribute to the recently passed solo World Champion.
During this slower first lap and about three kilometres in, my chain snapped once again. With so much practice I was now extremely adept at fixing this issue and I was able to rejoin at the back of the race. At the end of the lap I came into transition, found my tent deep within the camping paddock and replaced the ridiculously short chain with a new one. The next few hours involved overtaking the slower riders. I gradually clawed my way back into contention in the Masters category moving from 25th and last to 9th as the sun fell beyond the horizon.
That night I had a restless sleep. What had I done? Was it too late to get my money back? Firstly, I had only raced five times the longest being of six hours duration. I would have to ride eighteen hours more. Secondly, I was poorly equipped with a single bike that was more suitable for social riding, lights that lasted a mere hour last time out and, probably the most pertinent point, there were only two weeks’ before the actual race. As I struggled to sleep I resolved to dramatically increase my training to 24 hours in the first week and then taper the week before the race. I slept a few nervous, uneasy hours.
Incredibly, I found the time to train as I had planned and so I went to Majura Pines in Canberra fairly confident I could survive the ordeal. Greer insisted I sleep for a few hours during the night and with this I lined my bike up at the start. In honour of James Williamson there would be a parade lap, a fitting tribute to the recently passed solo World Champion.
During this slower first lap and about three kilometres in, my chain snapped once again. With so much practice I was now extremely adept at fixing this issue and I was able to rejoin at the back of the race. At the end of the lap I came into transition, found my tent deep within the camping paddock and replaced the ridiculously short chain with a new one. The next few hours involved overtaking the slower riders. I gradually clawed my way back into contention in the Masters category moving from 25th and last to 9th as the sun fell beyond the horizon.
Now I was racing alongside Dave Eccles the eventual winner of the Super Masters and also a first timer in 24 hour solo’s albeit with far greater experience and wisdom in racing strategy. We had met the day before as we set up our camp and we immediately struck a friendship that is still strong today. We swapped positions on the track but we would invariably roll in together and this was helping both of us to maintain a steady tempo during the lonely night hours.
Then disaster struck. I had brought several vista halogen light batteries but their charge level had dropped with age and soon the final battery’s rapidly fading light flickered into oblivion. It was only 2.30 am and I panicked believing my race was almost certainly over. I had been feeling quite strong so this was a mighty body blow. However, Jason Dreggs was alongside me in transition and he came to my rescue lending me a spare light and battery and his pit crew swiftly went to work to fit my newly acquired night guide. I rolled away into the forest with enough illumination to ensure I made the dawn.
Then disaster struck. I had brought several vista halogen light batteries but their charge level had dropped with age and soon the final battery’s rapidly fading light flickered into oblivion. It was only 2.30 am and I panicked believing my race was almost certainly over. I had been feeling quite strong so this was a mighty body blow. However, Jason Dreggs was alongside me in transition and he came to my rescue lending me a spare light and battery and his pit crew swiftly went to work to fit my newly acquired night guide. I rolled away into the forest with enough illumination to ensure I made the dawn.
With the rising sun, I was invigorated in a way only a 24 hour soloist would understand. Six hours to go and we were almost there. At ten past eleven I was eighth. I figured I could punch out two more laps and I felt a sudden surge of energy. On the drive down to Canberra, Greer had predicted I would finish 5th and I remember laughing at such a ludicrous and ill-informed suggestion and at the misplaced faith she had in my ability.
I started to stand at every opportunity in order to squeeze the last of the strength from my race-wearied legs. I was passing several people on track but I had no idea which category they were in. My last two laps were as fast as my initial day times and as I crossed the line to start my penultimate lap I glanced at the large Castech timing board and I was 5th. I was elated and I held up five fingers shouting in stunned disbelief to Greer, my own personal soothsayer. Brett Bellchambers calls the last lap of a 24 hour race the ‘Glory Lap’ and this was certainly how it felt as I bid farewell to every hill climb, pine tree and mushroom that adorned that course.
I had qualified for the World’s in Canberra and as I crossed the line I was asked by the event compere if I would race at Mt. Stromlo. I remember saying ‘I’ll have to now’ and this was affectionately repeated for the other competitors and support crews to chuckle about.
I started to stand at every opportunity in order to squeeze the last of the strength from my race-wearied legs. I was passing several people on track but I had no idea which category they were in. My last two laps were as fast as my initial day times and as I crossed the line to start my penultimate lap I glanced at the large Castech timing board and I was 5th. I was elated and I held up five fingers shouting in stunned disbelief to Greer, my own personal soothsayer. Brett Bellchambers calls the last lap of a 24 hour race the ‘Glory Lap’ and this was certainly how it felt as I bid farewell to every hill climb, pine tree and mushroom that adorned that course.
I had qualified for the World’s in Canberra and as I crossed the line I was asked by the event compere if I would race at Mt. Stromlo. I remember saying ‘I’ll have to now’ and this was affectionately repeated for the other competitors and support crews to chuckle about.
I now had a ‘race goal’ and I trained and raced to this end, my passion for riding undeterred. I continued to make mistakes in races which included going to the wrong start line in Capital Punishment (which I didn’t realise until the 45k to go sign appeared 50k too early). As many might remember this turned out to be, as Beyonce would say, a ‘beautiful nightmare’ because the race took place in torrential rain, mud and freezing temperatures and as a result I was able to complete this particular race with only minimal damage to body and bike.
In April 2010, I bought my first genuine cross country bike for the Worlds, a Scott Spark 20, and managed to place 12th in Masters and 74th overall. In February 2011, I won for the first time at Rocky Trail’s 6+6 at a blistering hot Del Rio Resort at Wiseman’s Ferry. Further success in races followed and the highlight of 2011 was winning the Chocolate Foot Singletrack Mind Series.
In April 2010, I bought my first genuine cross country bike for the Worlds, a Scott Spark 20, and managed to place 12th in Masters and 74th overall. In February 2011, I won for the first time at Rocky Trail’s 6+6 at a blistering hot Del Rio Resort at Wiseman’s Ferry. Further success in races followed and the highlight of 2011 was winning the Chocolate Foot Singletrack Mind Series.
So it was in Finale Ligure, Italy that I would attempt to win the Solo 40-44 category. Riders from all over Europe, North and South America, New Zealand and twelve from Australia would all participate in a truly international event. The course was spectacular with the riders greeted with sweeping views over the Ligurian Sea from steep cliff vantage points. After a hectic Le Mans running start, I settled into my race rhythm and was soon up to 3rd. During the night I had gained a place but not without some drama. During one night lap I started to micro-nap which became quite frightening on the second loop which involved some dizzying descents along the precipitous cliff side. Fortunately, the Aussies in transition heard my cries for instant caffeine and after a red bull and a no-doze I completed the next lap not only revitilised but at break-neck speed.
As I crossed the line for the last time I had placed second in the world for my age and 14th overall. I had come such a long way in a relatively short period of time. Reflecting back, I had started racing solo only because of a little girl’s sickness, and participating in 24 hour events due primarily to my fear of missing out on registration. But this tough and unforgiving race had somehow started to consume me with a undeniable passion.
I am currently ranked by Cycle Nation as the number one masters rider and fifth overall. My goal in 2013 is to become Solo World Champion at Mt. Stromlo in October but I will have to overcome some exceptional competitors in the 40-44 age category who are bound to push me to the very limits of my abilities. Without question, the sport of endurance mountain biking has never been stronger, particularly in Australia, and I intend to savour this amazing period in my life for a long, long time to come.
RSS Feed
