Chute

Chute, valpartij, incidente, choque......

If you ride a bike, at some point you will crash. Pro cyclists know this as an inescapable part of the job, the 'metier' of being a professional bike rider. Many mentally allow for a certain number of crashes per year, hoping that none will be too serious and put them out of action for long. It is a part of their existence that they neither welcome, nor deny, but just work through. Cycling lore is choc full of stories of suffering, of incredible feats against injury, of overcoming physical damage that would put most of us out of the running for any activity for a while, let alone the brutal world of professional racing. Hinault's broken nose, Hamilton's collarbone, Hoogerlands barbed wire injuries....all legend.

But what of the amateur or recreational cyclist, one for whom riding (and therefore it's flip side, crashing) is merely a hobby, an obsessive one perhaps, but not a means of making a living from day to day. How does the act of falling from one's bike, self-inflicted or otherwise pan out in a life only part-lived on and for the bike?

I had the chance to reflect on this the other day, when managing to have my most serious crash in some while, solo and with only my own stupidity to contribute to its execution. The act of crashing is a strange one, and influenced to some degree by who is around you. In a group ride or race, there's the unusual noise of tyres rubbing, a skid or bits of metal clashing that jumps out from the normal noises of group  riding, and precursors what can be a frightening and all consuming barrage of noise and movement, depending on how caught up you are in it. Crashing solo (or at least without anyone or anything specific to precipitate it) is different. A lapse of concentration, the sudden realisation that things are not as they should be in terms of line, balance or speed - the silence of it all as it goes wrong in front of you. With you. As part instigator, part passenger.

My own recent crash was a surreal mix of calm, noise and total confusion. A moment of calm when I realised I had got both my speed and my line totally wrong for a left-right combination, bordered on its right hand edge by a dry stone wall right next to the tarmac. It was all calm in the sense of there being nothing I could realistically do to get round the bend, so it was a question of waiting, with a bizarre curiosity to see how things would unfold at this point. After hitting the wall with my right hand and handlebar, it all went quiet for a little while. It was a bit confusing really, knowing that something was happening, but not being sure exactly what. The contact between my head and the tarmac moments later broke the spell, with the whole of my right side grounding an instant later to emphasise the point that things had probably not gone too well.

The aftermath of crashing is a funny-old affair - childhood habits kick in, those years of social conditioning of not wanting to betray the fact that you are hurt, stiff upper lip stuff (don't cry it's not manly, at least not at the age of 45), jumping up and walking around when by rights you should be sat down assessing things, and of course the biggest question and daftest thing of all - is my bike/clothing/sunglassess etc all right? Cycling at the higher levels, at least, is known as a sport of suffering. So, to call yourself a cyclist, it follows that you have to get back on, to shrug it off and to at least ride on a little while before succumbing gracefully and in a dignified manner to the fact that your injuries are severe enough for it not to be sensible to continue. Curling up in a ball, having a little cry and generally throwing in the towel are not really where it's at, however appealing at the time.

To be fair, there are also usually some practicalities involved around getting home somehow, unless you are unfortunate enough to need transportation by ambulance. This wasn't the case for me, so coasting down the hill, as others in the same event passed me, the consternation of friends enquiries in my ears, penetrating through the fog of pain and adrenaline, I settled in for a short ride back to where I had parked the car. With a hug from a friend at event HQ, that nearly precipitated a 'dangerous' display of tears and emotion, I got myself home before I felt any worse. And entered the world of the recently-crashed recuperating rider. And into a world of road rash, bruising, recrimination, financial calculations as to the cost of damaged stuff and the complex mash-up of concern and reproach from loved ones. In an age of social media selfies, I had to resist the temptation to bare more than was appropriate and demonstrate to the world, who must have been waiting with bated breath, just how I had hurt myself. I resisted on the grounds that such self-obsession is a little misplaced when others have hurt themselves far worse, and besides Tony Martin cornered the market and had the last word in road rash pics last year.

Road rash. That's a tortuous bedfellow if ever there was one. Add in some choice bruising and you have a combination that conspires in a perfect storm to prevent sleep and rest just at a time when you need it most. Your only hope for sleep is that you can find even one position where lying in vague comfort is possible, though this is usually rendered irrelevant when in your half-awake state you forgetfully move and find one of the other million and one positions in which it hurts and wake yourself up all over again.

After a few days of this but with some fairly severe neck pain to boot, I began to wonder if I had done something more than a bruising and rash job on my body. The fact that I had split my helmet in the crash had surprisingly not informed my thinking up to this point, at least in terms of getting checked out. Too much 'man-up' and not enough common sense I would venture. A trip to Urgent Care prompted X-Rays and then......... the sort of quiet, calm response from an ever increasing number of medical professionals arriving from nowhere and saying 'do not move'  and 'do exactly as I say' that directly impinged on even my blunted sense of self preservation to suggest that actually something might be up with my neck.

Five hours of lying immobilised in foam blocks, a c spine board and a rapid trip for a cat scan at another hospital as well as contact with a number of serious-minded and senior doctors, confirmed 2 fractures to my vertebrae (C7 and T5) and landed me in an immobilsing neck brace for 12 weeks. And induced a very intense feeling of having been extremely lucky that I walked out of the hospital unaided.

There was already for me, prior to that visit to hospital, a sense of balancing the 'what might have been' with a future full of the desire to ride still and the risk of doing something again - I had after all, split my helmet in the crash. But the realisation that I had been not just lucky, but extremely lucky will take some further processing and balancing in my head in the months to come. Any lesson to take from this? Go and get yourself checked out if you have a big crash. Notions of epic suffering, being tough, Pro and the like mean nothing when faced with a potentially serious complication that might otherwise remain undiagnosed. And Ride Safe out there.......

AbsoluteBlack single ring set up

I used to run a single ring, with guards, in the 1990s. I liked the simplicity of concept, it reduced weight a bit but more importantly it helped a bit with clogging. But since then I haven't really bothered to set one up again, mainly as the guards always seemed to rub with the chainline being difficult to set up. Modern re-inventions tended to involve chainkeepers attached to the seat stay, rather than the simple traditional double guard I used to use, and so lost the advantage of getting rid of a front-mech like object, neatly positioned around the bottom bracket area to successfully collect mud and vegetation.

It was with interest then, that I received a test 38 tooth ring (via Dave Haygarth) from Marcin at AbsoluteBlack. This ring differed from stuff I had seen previously, borrowing from the growing mtb market for single rings, and featuring a cleverly milled ring that requires no guard, chainkeeper or any other device to make it stick on. I was initially skeptical but equally hopeful that this could be the ideal solution to dealing with super muddy conditions later on in the 'cross season.

Matched to my On One Pickenflick and it's huge mud clearance, I've been running the ring in training and racing and can now report back. Set up is key to getting this ring to work. It's not hard, it just needs to be done right. Chain tension as well as the teeth profile is what keeps the chain on through the rough and the boggy, and chain length needs to be optimised to gain maximum advantage from the ring. Successfully installed, with clear instructions from AbsoluteBlack, the initial feel through the pedals was instantly positive. Maybe you don't pay too much attention to how your chain feels as you pedal, as opposed to your legs, but I could feel a smoothness that wasn't present on my perfectly good double chainset set ups.

The ring has now done a variety of races, and training sessions and in a variety of conditions and has passed all tests with flying colours. Bumpy tracks don't faze it - it hasn't been possible to bounce it off, though me and Dave have tried hard. It's trained and raced in thin sloppy mud, sticky mud (Bradford) and Todmorden (ie biblically thick) mud and simply kept on going. In many hours of use, I had one small problem at Todmorden Cross when a large, ripped up clod of soil got under the chain and onto the ring and caused the chain to fall off. But, and here is the crucial bit, it was super easy to get back on - no jamming on a chaincatcher, no falling between ring and bottom bracket and sticking, just an easy flick to get back on. Over the period of use and in the conditions I rode it in, I would have expected to drop a chain or have problems on a double set at some point anyway. No system is perfect, but the AbsoluteBlack ring works as well, if not better than anything else I've used.

Pic: Dave Haygarth

As I indicated earlier, the main advantage for me of a single ring is reduced clogging and this positive effect has been clearcut. No bike is clog free, and even if the frame keeps free then the cassette can often stop working properly anyway. But, the AbsoluteBlack ring set up and the resulting simplicity around the bottom bracket area has markedly reduced mud and vegetation build and kept the bike not only trouble free, but weighing less as a result too. Paired with an 11-28 block (10 speed chain, Sram Red rear mech), my 38 tooth ring gives me all the gears I had before and I have never missed the potentially wider range of gears a more traditional double set up gives. From now on, I'll be running this setup on my Pickenflick during the winter season and for me it's a perfect solution to the increasing levels of mud our climate seems to bring u.

UPDATE Jan 14:

I rode the last NWCCA race of the season recdently, starting on my bike with the single ring on. To my surprise, I had a couple of problems with the ring, dropping the chain on both occasions. After consultation with Marcin from absoluteBlack and some careful analysis of my actions and course conditions at the time, I feel fairly confident I've pinpointed the problem.

In essence, both 'drops' were caused by my very rapid changing of gear up the block on transitions from bumpy descent to slow grinding section. According to Marcin, changing 3 or 4 cogs in one movement will result in instability for any chain (on a single ring or otherwise). Ally that to a bumpy section, with no chain guard or front mech to hold the chain on and you have the problem. The solution, a technique which he maintains pro mountain bikers have been following for years, is to shift one cog at a time, rather than the multiple cog, rapid shifts that I was doing. The concession for this is that it takes a little forward planning so as to avoid rapid dumping up the block as the speed slows down. Marcin maintains also that the mtb testers for his single ring have not dropped the chain in testing due to their attention to this technique and that he often finds cyclocross riders are a bit 'gung ho' in shifting technique and could do with refining their actions. Certainly, I have never dropped the chain in thick mud, nor even on a descent - the 3 times I have had a problem have ALL followed multiple shifting into an easier gear before a slow boggy section.

UPDATE 2 Feb 14:

 After some discussions with Marcin from absoluteBlack, it's important to point out that the spring tension on Shimano mechs needs optimising to make the ring work to the best of its capability. Here's what it says on the absoluteBlack website....

Important information for SHIMANO derrailleur users:

In order to get best results we recommend increasing cage return spring tension. New derailleurs are assembled with the spring in the mount that allows the most relaxed position of the spring. However there is another position on the cage which will increase that tension. It is a standard procedure, please navigate to point no.7 in the link. You may also ask your LBS to do it for you.

Sram users are not required to do that as oem springs are already in high tension position.

If you missed it, here's Dave's recent video too:

And so it begins... #cx13/14

Now we've got this out the way.....

We can get on with this.....

Pic: Joolze Dymond

And the questions I hope to have answered by February are:

Which of the big Euro pros will be on discs? And if so, which hydraulic system (if any) will they be on?

Will Sven be able to boss it still, despite advancing years? Or will Niels Albert finally stop throwing strops and get some consistency together?

Will we get full coverage of Women's racing from Europe, particularly World Cups?

Will the Americans make inroads into Euro racing or merely continue to head up the biggest domestic scene on the planet?

Will FMB tubs start to threaten Dugast in terms of volume, or will the artisan tubular producers suffer at the hands of quality mass produced products from the bigger tyre manufacturers.

Will we have a mudbath in NW England from September onwards like last year or actually get some fast races as well? Where I get to use more than full-on mud treads?

Can I get close to 3:45 hrs for the 3 Peaks Cyclocross?

Will my teammate Dave Haygarth get his shoulder operation out the way quick enough to make a come back at the end of the season? Fingers crossed. Missing you already Dave.

Check back here later....

On the subject of coaching....

I started my musical training at a relatively early age, around 8, going down the common route for kids starting out - recorder, bit of piano and then later, after a dose of choral training, a search for a more mainstream instrument. The bassoon looked like me in shape, it sounded kinda funny, you needed big hands and no-one else played it at the school. Sold.

And so continued a journey that would last 14 years or so. Mentors, supporters and teachers came in and out of my life as I developed as a musician, working my way up through school, borough, county orchestras and then the National Youth Orchestra. Music college followed, some professional engagements and a career as a professional musician beckoned. That it all ended there is the subject of a completely different story, but it is only now that I have realised the relevance of a big part of that story to my cycling exploits.

Pic: Bob McMinn

This realisation has come about through working formally with a coach around my cycling exploits for the first time. I've posted already about mentorship, and my connection with Greg May who runs Stoic Focus Coaching. This relationship just got more formal, in the latter part of my cross season and to good effect, taking Greg's advice and direction around training over the past couple years to it's ultimate end - the relationship of coach and athlete.

Now there is a part of me, the insecure, ego affected, middle-aged family man that finds the whole idea of having a coach for my cycling activities faintly ridiculous. Embarassing even. Coaches are for elite athletes, for winners, for Olympians. Or least wannabe Olympians and winners. Sure I've won a few races in the past, had some good results in the past, flirted with the National Cyclocross Development squad as was but...... I'm not setting the front of any race alight now, even an age-group relevant Veterans race. Why should a coach be of any real benefit and relevance where I am up to now?

Here's the key - it's because I have a passion, a drive, definitely a little bit of an obsession, with 'cross and cycling. Just like I did with music. When I was starting out, and as I went along in music, I just wanted to be better. Perhaps even to be the best. At the very least, the best I could be.

This is how it is with my 'cross - as a 40-something with kids and a non-cycling wife, a job and all the trappings of modern, settled family life my ambitions are not to attain the kind of success I had in music, or even the moderate success I had earlier on the bike. More mundane, more limited, my ambitions now are simply to be the best at what I love with the resources I have available. Because I enjoy the work, because I enjoy the journey. It gives me focus, direction, an inner calm even, to be thinking about a part of my life where along with being a parent, a husband, a worker, I can enjoy developing.

And like my career in music, I've recognised that I could do with some help. Can I enjoy riding and racing without this help? Of course, and I have done for years. But developing a relationship, a coaching relationship with someone has given me a new lease of life and a new enjoyment of something I already enjoyed. Key to that relationship for me is working with a coach that understands my time limitations, my physical limitations but is prepared to push in areas where I can stretch, where I can control what I do or don't do. It would be pointless trying to follow a schedule that the 20-something I was once might have done - I'll end up ill, in marital strife and generally out of balance. All in, I'm keen to look at what I can do, how much I can progress, where things can go with the time I have and that's why I'm particularly revved up to be working this year with Greg and his stoically focused approach.

Mentorship

Pic: Dave Haygarth

I realised the other day that I'm lucky enough to have two 'cross mentors. They'd been there a while but I hadn't quite noticed the impact they were having for the good, on my 'cross endeavours.

Now I'm no elite athlete - I had some success with 'cross in the early 90s when a full time student, I mean athlete, winning quite a few local League races and getting a top 25 position at the Nationals - but although the results have significantly tailed off of late, 'cross is still my passion and I want to improve simply for improvements sake. A big gap in 'cross particpation from 1993 till a few years ago has meant a steep re-learning curve, as well as a bafflement as to why my body does not respond the way it used to. The first point is easy to document, the second is a little harder toe explain but that's for another day.

Anyways, I've been fortunate to hook up in recent years with the effervescent Dave Haygarth, who whilst nearly wrecking me many times with his superior fitness, technique and ability in countless training sessions together, has been kind enough to pass on much of his hard earned race-craft and technical skill to my benefit. Don't underestimate the value of riding and training with someone who is better than you, particularly if they share what they know. My ego crumbles at times but I bounce back, determined to get a little closer to him next time. And it's coming....

My other 'cross mentor is Greg May - a (not-for-long?) Dublin based exercise physiologist and coach with a no nonsense, slightly old skool approach backed up with heaps of science. Greg and his partner Pauline (a talented IronWoman) have been regular guests at mine on Greg's racing forays outside Ireland and during these trips, and between he has regularly passed on nuggets of training advice around intensity, structure, technique and a lot more.

Greg's approach can be summed up in this superb article on 'cross training. I won't repeat it in full - go read it for yourself - but a couple of bits jump out for me:

CX is not a pretty sport. If you don’t train in the suck you won’t be able to race in the suck. 

'I can’t corner in mud' – Well no one can…you just get less bad at it. Practice...

Sometimes the best advice is the most simple - you can dig out an entire seasons success from that small article but better still, go find yourself a mentor, a training partner, a 'cross soulmate and learn together the only way there is - by getting muddy.

Prototype Planet X Pro Carbon XLS Cyclo Cross

I've been lucky enough to have been riding around on a sample Pro Carbon XLS for a good while now, and now it's on sale can finally spill the beans.....

UPDATE: new production version of the XLS

Constructed from 12k carbon it's a full carbon disc cross frame that is aimed fair and square at the race-savvy cross rider. It's the sharpest feeling cross bike I've ridden with snappy handling and a very stiff response to hard out of the saddle efforts. A large (PF30) bottom bracket area contributes to this stiffness, as do the boxy rear chainstays and the tapered headtube (1.25 - 1.5") that keeps things solid upfront too.

Cable routing is all internal across the top tube with no under bottom bracket cabling to keep things clean and tidy, as well as helping to cut down on maintenance after drownings with the jet wash. The top tube itself is one of the most comfortable I've ever carried with, being unencumbered with cables and perfectly flattened to lay neatly across your shoulder. The rear disc tabs are at the rear (rather than in the rear triangle), allowing easy access too for pad fettling.

Clearance is great up front and rear, despite the 'racy' tolerances between rear tyre and bottom bracket area, and during mudfests has presented no significant problems despite some build up in that area. The absence of cantilevers and bosses more than makes up for any build up of mud there and my bike has kept working fine even when conditions are really bad.

The beefy headset, stiff bottom bracket and boxy stays mean this frame just flies under pressure - compared to alloy cross bikes I've had the difference in stiffness is startling. It's not a harsh ride on rougher surfaces, just purposeful, giving you lots of feedback about what surface conditions are like. It builds up light too - with higher end components and carbon wheels it's happily threatening sub 18lb territory and so carrying feels superb on that comfy top tube.

It's just too tempting not to make comparisons  between the XLS and it's sister company's One One Dirty Disco that I've also been riding. Both are superb race bikes with surefooted handling, good behaviour in the mud and light, practical (ie robust) carbon frames. Whilst the Disco also makes for a good all-round off-road riding bike, eminently suitable for 3 Peaks duties and long off road rides alike, the  XLS perhaps veers a little more toward an out and out racer, feeling sharp and edgy and just itching to be ragged round a lap.

Pic: Jo 'Hanglebads'

It is worth pointing out the difference in sizing - my 56cm Disco has a longer top tube and taller head tube than my 57cm XLS which partly contributes to that planted, stable feeling compared the smaller, more chuckable XLS. It's horses for courses - I've raced both on cross laps, ridden both on long rambling off road rides, and 3 Peaks trained on both. I don't have a favourite - they both do the job, whenever and  wherever. You takes your pick....

Update on the Cyclocross Disc and Canti Pro Carbons

I've had the opportunity to get out and about on the Planet X Cyclocross Disc and Canti Pro Carbon wheels properly now - I've had some nice long rides across the moors as well as sharper blasts round my local cross training grounds. There hasn't been much proper mud as such (despite the fairly miserable summer) but their performance on a range of surfaces, from grass, to moorland tracks to a purpose built mountain bike trail has been surefooted and accurate.

I realise that a carbon cyclocross wheel isn't necessarily designed to ride rough tracks or even the Red route at Gisburn Forest, but actually it's a great test of how a wheelset performs under stress, and in challenging conditions. I've loved the fact the the only thing holding me back on these rides has been the nagging worry of puncturing a nice FMB tub and not the worry of the wheels going out of true or breaking a spoke.

Planet X say they would be suitable for fast mountain bike use and with a fatter 45mm tub they clearly would be. Even with a 32mm cross tub they soak up bumps and rocks without deviating from the line. This stiffness will translate well to mud in the winter cross season and comes from the 24 hole 2 cross build on both front and rear. They accelerate so quickly too, even when the ground is bumpy - something some wheelsets struggle with as the bumps can sometimes feel like they suck energy out. Not so with these.

Their lightness and strength mean I have no qualms about using them for the 3 Peaks cyclocross in September. Crazy? Well not really - they feel perfectly strong enough and the Peaks is all about avoiding punctures, and not taking crazy risks on the descents. Mechanical sympathy wins every time over blinding speed that flirts with a puncture on every rock. Tubs help hugely in this respect too. The fact that they are very light for a cross wheel means they will also help considerably on the never-ending climbs in the Peaks.

Watch out for a forthcoming video on tub gluing featuring these wheels.

Planet X Cyclocross Disc and Canti Pro Carbon 50/50 tubular wheels

Bit of a rare animal these......

Going disc AND tubular last year forced me and Dave Haygarth to get our own deep section carbon wheels sorted. There just weren't any decent options out there without spending silly money. Cue ensuing ebay shenanagins and some chunky though strong 50mm rims with Novatec hubs arrived for building at the local bike shop. Nice, perfectly adequate but a bit heavy and workmanlike even with 20 hole front and 24 rear, both laced 2X.

Enter Planet X with their usual eye for value and performance and we have the Disc and Canti Pro Carbons - lighter, faster and most probably stronger too. Both front and rear have 24h rims (also 2X), the same rim as on their newest version of the legendary 50mm Pro Carbon wheelsets, 6 bolt hubs and black double butted Pillar spokes. All for £450 £499 They also have the same proprietary braking surface as the road wheels meaning you can swap between bikes if you're not completely converted to disc.

How do they feel compared to my ebay versions? Not like their  original Clydesdale name - they are much lighter and snappier, retaining all the stiffness of my DIY wheels. I don't know what the exact weight is but it must be around about 1500grams, maybe less - their road cousins come in at about 1400grams. They feel, and are, like light race wheels despite their moniker - quick to pick up, responsive when getting out of the saddle, solid.

Gluing up was a dream - the braking surface, a matt finish, extends to the rim bed and gives a perfect surface to lay the glue onto. The profile is fairly shallow too making it easier to seat the tub and glue to the all important edges where adhesion is needed to make them stick right.

They'll be getting a full test shortly so I will report back.

Embro

Note: this piece was drafted before the appearance of our 1 week of summer in late May. Don't let that put you off - it will be freezing and lashing down again soon and your thoughts will turn to embro again....


We all love getting packages in the post. This arrival was no exception - a perfectly proportioned little package containing a tin in a plastic bag and a post-it note. I'd been tipped off about my surprise by the sender, John Shaw, former professional off-road rider, Veteran cross racer and fellow Belgo-phile, but more on that later.

Embrocation is to cyclocross as bikinis are to beach volleyball. It would be unthinkable without, though there is one big difference - embrocation actually has a practical use, rather than an aesthetic purpose. Well, it has that too for some, but I digress.

Cross is a winter sport - it's usually cold or wet or cold AND wet unless you live in New South Wales, Australia which incidentally is experiencing a burgeoning cross scene. Even when it's summer cross in the UK, it's usually cold and wet too. Whilst there are obvious benefits of slathering your pasty white legs in something warming when the rain is horizontal and the temperature in single figures, apparently there are other benefits too as embrocation helps increase blood flow to the extremities, which decreases the pain of intense efforts on the bike. That'll be quite handy for cross then....

Either way, legend has it that embrocation originates from Belgium. It probably did, but even if that isn't true, most of us crossers would like that to be true because Belgium is the source of all things good when it comes to cross. Imagine my excitement then when the contents of the package was eponymously labelled 'Northwest Knee Warmers, Medium Warmth Embrocation'.

The smell hit me from the off. To be fair, most embrocation products don't exactly creep up on you when you open them - that would defeat the purpose - but this was very different. Previous versions of embrocation I have used have ranged between the evocative 'school rugby changing rooms' wintergreen smell, the clinical and slightly nasty ralgex reek of sports-type products or more recently the allegedly inspiring smell of an iconic barren-topped mountain in the South of France. This smelt like none of them. It smelt of Christmas, which was mildly unnerving given that it was May. My sense of smell is crap but I definitely picked up cinnamon, clove, mixed spices, maybe pencil, slate.... Maybe not. But cinnamon and clove anyway - warming, comforting winter season smells.

The company behind this festive fare, NorthWest Kneewarmers, is an interesting one. Formed out of the union between a naturopathic physician and a soapmaker they use very different ingredients to many of the other producers out there. Here's what they have to say:

We work hard to find and use the best ingredients possible. The bulk of our ingredients [over 95% by weight] are sourced domestically as close to home as possible, and all are natural. 


We choose ingredients based not only on its area of origin, but its process of manufacture.


We choose materials that have been either expeller/cold pressed [the base oils] or steam distilled [the essential oils], avoiding substances that have been solvent extracted whenever possible. Only one ingredient in our product [the capsaicin] has been solvent extracted as we haven't found it otherwise [yet].


We make the calendula extract ourselves from dried calendula flowers, and put the whole thing together in small batches right here in Oregon.

Well it shows - this stuff is different as I found out when I applied it at a somewhat chilly summer evening cross race in early May. Pretty liquid in texture, you might want to store it in a sealable bag as it shows a clear propensity to escape. This however comes into it's own when you apply - it goes on lovely. It's not overly greasy, but spreads easily and evenly. Whilst I have to my now not-so-secret shame been a past fake tan wearer, I do worry about looking like a badly tango-ed teenage girl, even on my legs. No worries here, smooth and even all the way and a pleasingly darker colour for to help non-Euro pasty legs look a little better.  And shiny too - by American standards, this would qualify for the Euro sheen look which we all know is worth a few seconds a lap.

This incarnation, 'Medium Warmth' is as it says on the tin - pleasantly warming without being too hot. Perfect for Autumn cross, or warmer mid winter days at the races. Or cross in May given the non-appearance of the Spring, let alone the Summer this year. It lasted well too but cleaned off well at the end so I didn't enjoy it's envigorating properties at 1am whilst trying to sleep after the race.

So far so good but the real winner for me was the clear skin-care effects of this embro. The notion of 'skin-care' for some products designed to do the same job can be a little tenuous. With some products, freshly shaved legs can end up looking like you have a dangerous infectious skin disease, such is the rash produced. Even less 'chemical' oriented products can irritate and inflame. This stuff was great - no irritation, and just like in the adverts on tele, 'great feeling skin'  after use. The naturopathic properties are apparent and very welcome.

How do I get some, I hear you ask? Until now, I'm not aware that there has been an offical UK stockist but that is about to change imminently. John Shaw is putting together what can only be described as cross lovers dream - a cross specific emporium filled with hard to find Belgian and US  cross-themed products. It's an idea I flirted with a while back, but didn't have the bottle or the skills to do. No matter, Fangoso, his new venture will fill this gap for me with it's 'passion for grime' ethos.

Look out for more on Fangoso soon.

Roubaix: not what it appears to be

Most of the cycling magazines, or internet cycling sites for that matter, carry at least one piece a year about riding the Roubaix cobbles, usually as part of the sportive events that shadow the venerable Paris-Roubaix race in April.

They all use the same adjectives and hyperbole - battering, shaking, bucking, numb, bottle-bouncing, filling-rattling, equipment-destroying etc etc. And they are all right. I don't intend to repeat previous writers descriptions, other than to confirm that riding Carrefour de L'Arbre to take but one example, is deeply unpleasant, unnerving and brutal in its excruciating demands on bike, body and specifically fingers.

Take it as read then that the Roubaix pave is bumpy.....

But on my recent trip, I wanted to scratch below the surface a little, to experience not just the physical demands of the old and broken pave, but to soak up a little of the area's feel and atmosphere - that combination of factors that generates so much hype, attention and fervent adulation on race day in April.

And I found it lacking. Sure, my fingers were in pain, my legs struggled to keep on top of any decent gear to allow forward momentum and my bike felt abused by the brutality of it all. But that was it. The whole experience was curiously inert, at least once the rattling was separated out of my consciousness.

I had chosen to follow the race route and ride four sectors of tactically crucial pave from Cysoing, through Camphin and onto the Carrefour before finishing on the Gruson secteur. A race leader, or even just hopeful finisher will exit that Secteur 3 Gruson stretch with just the much easier Secteurs 2 and 1 remaining before a relieved entry into the Roubaix velodrome and the finish. And maybe this was the point - without the spectacle and intensity and tradition of the race, riding the Roubaix pave just felt like a rather unpleasant and random ride on daft roads, even with the super compliant Ti cx frame and lush 27mm pave tubulars I took over there.

The race route, I realised on tracing it out, is actually fairly contrived. It simply heads off the road for a section of ridiculous pave across the bleak farmland before rejoining a road section after a km or so and rolling onto the next one. Often it rejoins the same road a few hundred metres further up from the point at which it just left, rolling on in to the next village to repeat the process. Without the rhythm of the race, it's cumulative physical and tactical pressure, it just doesn't make sense. And the pave sections, instead of being at the heart of the whole affair, somehow feel like unnecessary intrusions into what might otherwise be a pleasant ride in gently rolling Northern French countryside.

It is then, a very different feel riding here to riding the cobbles and bergs in Flanders that make up one of the other one-day Classics monuments, the Ronde van Vlaanderen. Flanders as an area has an integrity and a character that the terrain covered by Paris-Roubaxi cannot match. The Flemish Ardennes is beautiful in itself, with nooks and crannies that simply invite you to explore them. The flat plains of this part of France have lovely little villages but not the same depth of character to the terrain. The broken and ancient pave here adds character in the context of the race, but on its own, on a rather grey midweek day, all secteurs just look all alike, relics of a bygone era in French agriculture when these still-used country lanes happened to all be cobbled. Sure on race day they come alive and provide an incredible backdrop to the racing and continue the traditions that the race has engendered over the years. But it's not enough, at least not to make a pleasantly memorable ride.

On their own, divest of fans, helicopters and the race cavalcade, the pave for me at least, didn't really provide any more than a vivid insight into the incredible demands of this one race, but did not consitute an experience that, perhaps surprisingly, I will be going back for.

Mark rode stoically on skinny 23mm tires.....

Making space for......

A trip to Flanders:

I'm off with Mark to Oudenaarde for a few days to ride Roubaix pave and the best hellingen and kasseien that Flanders can provide. The weather forecast looks crap but the riding will be memorable. I shall report back with pics and film and a certain hint of smugness.......

A new bike:

I shall be taking a Planet X titanium prototype disc cross bike on the trip - seems like a good place to try the legendary Ti comfort, as well visiting the Donk cross training area, beloved of our own Helen Wyman, Gabby Day, Fieldy and a host of other Belgian based crossers. Report also to follow.

Embro and other cross goodies:

Seeing as the weather is set to be bobbins in Flanders, I shall be taking some a sample of some new cross-specific embrocation with me to keep warm. From US based North West Knee Warmers, this is due to be imported by exciting new cross emporium Fangoso. Johnny Shaw, well known on the North West and Notts cross-scene is putting together a fantastic collection of imported Belgian and US products for the discerning cross fanatic. Can't wait...

Meet the Bradshaws - the Sportsunday Bradshaws

I spotted the flouro bibs first. There were already bib-sporting marshals at cross races but this pair seemed to be lurking in the undergrowth, or at improbable points along the course. After a race or two, I realised they were photographers and that they weren’t casually snapping friends and family. No, they were taking pictures of each and every rider, lap after lap.

Welcome to the North West’s hardest working photographers of amateur sport – David and Laura Bradshaw from Sportsunday Event Photography. David and Laura cover not only every North West Cyclocross League event, but also pretty much any other outdoor endurance sport you care to mention – triathlon, fell running, ultra running, mountainbiking as well as road sportives and other mass participation cycling events. Apparently, photographing winter cross is what they like to do on their days off……..

Professional photographers of many years standing, their town centre studio in Burnley was the base for many a wedding and portrait shoot but they were drawn into cross after beginning to cover local fell running in March 2010. Their portfolio has now expanded across the endurance sports spectrum and they have a team of 8 other photographers with whom they work to cover all the events. True to form, there don't appear to be any pics of the pair themselves in action. I shall have to get some for an update.

I recently asked them what drew them to the North West cross scene – ‘what we really like about the cross scene is the family aspect. Lots of dads and daughters/sons all playing together. Competitive yet friendly, we’ve met lots of NICE people.’

And they echo the clear signs that the local scene is growing too:

‘The cross scene looks set to burst into life. The 2 things that get a lot of kids are Tri & Cross. We would like to see cross become even more popular. Sunny warm with mud would be good. Perhaps a couple of evening events, louder with music and sponsors. Make it something where people would stay longer.’

Last year, in the run up to my annual social ride, the Ronde van Oost Lancashire, I got a call from David and Laura. They asked if they could come and photograph the event and if I wanted any support with running it. Slightly taken aback at the offer of support, I mumbled something about cake and from that point possibly the most legendary cake provision in any cycling event was born.

‘We got involved with the Ronde because it was something new. The cake was a way of us putting something back. Defo our fav event last year. So really looking forward to it this year.’

The Sportsunday Ronde Cake Stop, at the top of the cobbled climb through Heptonstall, whilst about to have only its second running, is spoken of in those revered tones reserved for those true pillars of the cycling world – ‘did you go on the Ronde the first year of the cake stop….?’ 

Apart from the most amazing collection of cakes to greet 70 hungry and breathless cyclists, it featured David and Laura’s daughter Clare and her friend dressed in fairy costumes whilst dispensing cake. Many of us were speechless…

So if you're out and about at any two-wheeled or two-legged event where weekend warriors are putting themselves through their paces, be sure to look out for David and Laura and say hello. Chances are, they'll have taken a great shot of you along the way....

Winter commute - off road

Sometimes the daily routine of work and homelife can bear down a little too strongly, just refusing to let a chink of light in, especially during those long winter months. A sense of deflation after one of the most anticipated races on the calendar adds to the funk. The appearance of those yellow orbs in my iPhone forecast this week, combined with sub zero temperatures and warnings of ice on the roads gave me an idea - time to reprise the summer off-road commute. In icy February. On a cross bike.

I'm fortunate to have ended up living on the edge of some stunning Northern moorland, wild enough in places but not overly remote and definitely in-between home and my office in Rossendale. It's not hard to construct an off-road route to work then, in fact it's a wonder I don't ride that way more often rather than just when the 3 Peaks concentrates my mind on things bumpy and steep (note to self...).

Inspired then to have a mini-adventure on a Tuesday morning, I head out into the hills above Burnley. It's cold, well below zero but offroad this presents much less of a problem than on the road. The weekend's snowfall, has already gone through several cycles of melt and refreeze, but is granular and frozen enough to give surprisingly high levels of grip, even where it has been slushed up and then turned to ice.

A runner trots past and simply exclaims 'Mad!' as I teeter down a rutted icy track. Then no-one, just space, a sun rising fully over the hill and the deep sense of wellbeing that only physical exertion in convivial surroundings can bring.

It's tenuous at times, riding at or near the limits of grip on the icy surface. I'm off walking sometimes too, as frozen streams cross over or follow the track for a while, progress is slow in places. I'm mindful of not taking too long to get in, this is a weekday commute after all but seeing as I'm out here now, I might as well enjoy it......

I drop off the moor using farm tracks now for speed, descending into a blindingly cold pocket of air at Lumb. The cold air always collects there, the inversion bringing it's own micro-climate to the little hamlet. My rear disc brake freezes and I get 'brainfreeze head' as I speed down the road and into the Valley proper.

Rolling into work there's that familiar endorphin haze we all know, and love but also a deeper sense of satisfaction, a feeling that the day just got put on hold for a moment before the regular demands are addressed as normal. If you commute to work, even if you don't have hills, do something different and vary your commute - back roads, parks, canals, just use what you have. Your day just might start with something special.

2011/12 Retrospective

That's it. Done, over, finished for another year.

2011/12 cross season put to bed.

Not a vintage year racing wise, but a significant one nonetheless......

Plenty to work on for next year - a quicker Peaks time, power, core strength, maintaining speed through technical sections. All good stuff to inspire and motivate. Cross racing this season has felt harder and faster - and that's because it was. There are many more good riders coming in to cross from other disciplines, as well as others starting up and improving fast as they find the passion. Fields are considerably bigger across the country, with talent in depth amongst them. All in all, I feel it's been a bumper year for cross and the sport has been/is growing.

I started the season on cantilever brakes and finished it on discs. I still can't promote the advantages of discs enough and have hugely enjoyed being part of the 'first-mover advantage' of being disc-ed up. There are still a surprising number of detractors out there, most of whom clearly have not ridden discs on a cross bike but have made assumptions and arguments that are not entirely in possession of the facts.......

Discs are not perfect yet, but here is my central point. If my experience of riding on a purpose designed bike with 'only' cable/mechanical discs (not hydraulics), with technology 'borrowed' from existing mountainbike setups, has been so overwhelmingly positive, think how good it will be in a short while when systems that are purpose designed for cross come in to play. Systems that address the standard criticisms of weight (not overly relevant for average folk), modulation (also not a problem in my eyes), rotor size and suitability and so on. I've played a little with hydraulic systems and to be honest prefer the crisp, light action of my standard SRAM/Avid BB7 cable set up. Light, predictable, plenty powerful  and faultless in operation. I'm not sure I would ever want a hydraulic system for cross as things stand.....

However, I can't wait for the new ideas around hydraulics, the work on rim and wheel technology specifically for disc setups not to mention the avalanche of ideas and development that will come when the road market finally wakes up too.

My only worry is that I'm going to have to work even harder to keep up there in races once everybody else has caught up in the technology stakes.......

Soul riding

All pics thanks to Dave Haygarth (he's got a better iPhone than me)

It wasn't an auspicious start. Rolling in to the car park at the local Sports Centre for a lunchtime cross session with Dave, the faint drizzle that I left work in had strengthened beyond a Peter Kay-like "It's spittin'!" to a proper wet, dousing rain. The ground around the banks, wooded fringes and pitches we train on was saturated from previous rain and I though I might be getting a sore throat.

My motivation, mojo, whatever you want call it was sorely lacking. Dave, as ever thinking outside the box suggested we go up to the local park where a couple of years ago, he had organised a legendarily muddy cross race. I opted for a roll round and think about it approach, while Dave set about beasting himself on the imaginary course from that race. Dave's a bit old school like that - if it isn't hurting, it isn't working is his mentality and it certainly works for him with his ability to bounce back from tough sessions and pile more work on top.

It was as I rolled around in his wake that it began to happen. The ingredients were simple, akin to the principle of making most soul food - take a small piece of Victorian parkland, add a cleverly designed cross course making use of the natural features and contours, blend with some muddy, sloppy woodland and grassland and finish with a cracking bike perfectly suited to the terrain and conditions.

Not up for a big effort and mindful of staying healthy for the forthcoming weekend's National Trophy race, I rode around enjoying the feel of the slip and slide of the tires, the challenge of going quicker through slick corners, the jinking in and out of trees and just the simple sensation of riding outside in the rain, with no pressure and the sole aim of enjoying myself.

The park and wet conditions presented a great opportunity to work on some of the technical aspects of cross - choice of line, hand position on bars, weight distribution in muddy corners, accelerating out of them and so on. All those little nuances that get lost when your breathing becomes ragged and you teeter on the edge of losing control of the bike and your lungs whilst pushing hard. Dave popped up along the course or in view in and out of the trees from time to time, pushing hard and doing his thing. My sense of serenity contrasted with the big, powerful efforts he was making to push the bike along at maximum speed.

And toward the end it dawned on me - I hadn't had as much fun on a bike in ages. Sure I'd enjoyed races, enjoyed really hard training sessions too but this was different. It was getting back to the roots of why I and probably many others ride - freedom. That serenity was the product of a little snatched moment in a day pressured with family routine, work and all the other essential things in my life. A moment in which I reminded myself that for me at least, there is nothing more satisfying than throwing a bike around in the mud and simply playing.

Slick Disco

I find the word 'hybrid' a rather inelegant term for a multitude of sins across the biological and manufacturing worlds, and shudder slightly on hearing it applied to bikes in particular. It conjures up images of ill-conceived designs (or breeds - think Labradoodle), with a mish mash of components, that shine in none of the areas in which they are designated to operate. Neither road bike, nor cross bike nor mountain bike, these unfortunates of the bike world are destined to wander the margins of bike performance, forever consigned to mediocrity....

Of course that is the perspective of a true bike snob, for hybrid bikes are in fact the ideal machine for someone who is not prepared to invest a ridiculous proportion of their income on two-wheeled equipment for their leisure.

And for me, as a confirmed crossista, and one who has not owned a mountain bike for about 20 years and a road bike for only a few out of those 20, I have always secretly liked the simplicity of a do it all bike - one that can perform well across more than one chosen discipline - road, cross and even mtb style terrain. The concept of hybrid then for me, is one of semantics and snobbery, for in fact I am indeed always looking for that ideal multi-purpose machine.

I've ridden my cross bikes on the road for ages now, not really a major imposition since i don't road race, crit race or time trial out of choice. I find a cross bike excellent for both short and long road rides, comfortable and reliable, if slightly aesthetically challenged when shod with thin clincher wheels. For sure, they lack the out and out climbing prowess of a shorter wheeled road bike, or the the high speed cornering of a crit bike. But for an average punter like me, that's fine.

It was with interest then, that I stuck some skinny road tires on the wide rim 29er clinchers that come with the On One Dirty Disco Rival build and headed for a play on the roads. Unable to do anything Disco related without stalking newly signed On One rider, Dave Haygarth, I gatecrashed his day-off morning ride round Calderdale to see how much my enthusiasm for the offroad antics of the Disco would crossover. Dave entered into the spirit of the occasion with his own slicks on one of his Discos.

Dave is more succinct than me, and usually more perceptive so here is his blog entry:

To an outsider there’s little difference between a cyclocross bike and a road bike.  Many people actually buy them as ‘all round’ bikes to deliberately ride as touring or commuting bikes.   It’s not hard to see the logic – they’re comfortable and a little more forgiving than a steeper angled road bike with more clearance. The modern ‘cross bike has moved nearer and nearer to a road bike with racier geometry and stiffer materials, so it makes sense in a way to give it a go.

The improvements in ‘semi’ mudguards also means that mudguard eyelets and stays aren’t needed.  My pair of quick ‘snap on’ race guards meant I was ‘comfortably dry’ over the less-than-dry moors and valleys.The first thing I noticed was how far ahead the front wheel felt when riding on familiar roads. It looks and seems a long way away despite the fairly steep head angle on the On OneDirty Disco I ride.  This translates in to that bit more comfort on the road.  A couple of cm on the wheelbase of the bike – particularly in winter – gives a more forgiving ride. Other than that it felt pretty much like a very responsive and easily controlled road bike.  It’s amazing what a hard pair of 23mm slicks can do to the bike that chews up the dirt at the weekends.

If I had to own only one bike (tssk… heaven forbid) then it would have to be a ‘cross bike.  And forgive my brand lurve, but it would be this ’cross bike.

I'm not going to add to that really - I too loved the chunky feel of the Disco. It's off-road performance translates nicely to the road to give a comfortable and responsive ride, as Dave says.

Which let me to ponder..... would the Disco make a good sportive bike in the summer before being returned to cross duties in the winter? For me, not overly drawn to a high end road bike, the answer is definitively yes. It has double bottle cage mounts to help seal the deal. And could it moonlight as a fast commuter too, given the ability to fit removable mud guards? I would say so.

Is the Disco a hybrid? Clearly not, but it is not the proverbial one trick pony either and manages to give a  pretty convincing performance accros a variety of terrains and disciplines. As to owning only one bike? Well, I refer you dear reader to the time honoured truth:

desired number of bikes to own = x + 1

Always.