Some people, who claim to be sensible people, absolutely avoid at all costs taking a brand new, never-ridden bike to ride in a bike race. A very long, hard bike race in a remote location with no mobile signal.

Those are people who are obviously lacking in moral fibre. Taking a bike that’s been checked, double-checked, ridden, checked and ridden again? Give over. Just sign for it, whip it out of the box and ride the bugger.

You would though, wouldn’t you? Look at it!

I spent a couple of hours on Friday night swapping the tyres on my new Santa Cruz Stigmata for some wider, more-gravelly ones as well as adding a couple of bottle cages, some pedals and adjusting the seatpost so that it fit me. Sort of. It was a bit of a rush job and the front brake was rubbing a bit (brand new pads and I put the mechanic at Jungle under a bit of pressure when I asked for the bike at the last minute) but time was getting on and I had to drive 150 miles north to Kielder to take part in the Dirty Reiver 200 at 7am the morning after.

I slept in the Mighty Passat that night, the Stigmata (worth approximately 12 times more than the car) at the other side of the bed. At 5am I got up again, built the bike, drank a nice coffee that Dave had made in his motorhome and headed to the start.

200 kilometres of gravel on an amazing bike, in nice weather, in a stunning part of the country, with a large portion of all the coolest people I’ve ever met since I started racing about 100 years ago? These are weekends made in heaven.

And it was bloody brilliant. Miles and miles (I’ve done the kilometres thing now, thankyou) of dirt roads, massive views, blue skies and friendly (if a bit breathless) chatting with friends old and new.

I never did stop that front brake rubbing though, and the tyres that I fitted the night before were just being a pair of rebellious idiots all day long. By the time I’d arrived at the bit where the course split – where the madras/korma – blue pill/red pill – long and short options were (there was a 130 kilometre route as well as the 200), I’d re-inflated my front tyre 5 times and the rubbing front brake was really starting to make its rubbing-yness felt in my legs so I decided to take the blue pill and bail out on the shorter option. I decided that I could still go for another ride the day after rather than spending the next week recovering and at this rate I was going to finish the long route on Wednesday.

There’s more gravel racing (and less last-minute faffing) in my future….

I’ve had time to clear up the course tape, signs and discarded gel wrappers (ok there were only three of those, and they blended in with the usual burnt-out mopeds and dog poo bags anyway) after Hit the North 5. I’ve also had time to go on holiday for a week, publish the results and start planning the next one.

Those that were there to witness the return of Hit the North a couple of weeks ago will know how great it was. I’ve no idea how though. All I do is mither people on the phone for stuff, decorate the woods with signs and hire toilets. 200 or so riders paid to enter and didn’t seem to mind the stupidly-steep bits, the stupidly-muddy bits, the funny-smelling bits and the lack of music at the start/finish (broken generator). In fact, everyone who took part or helped out loved it.

I loved it. I loved organising it.

In fact I enjoyed organising this one more than any other HtN that I can remember and that’s not because it was easy (it was far from easy, thanks to….oh never mind), but because in the years since the last event, I’ve genuinely missed it.

So twice a year then. I’ll keep on doing it until everyone gets bored of it or I get bored of it.

Massive thanks to – Debbie, Simon Fox, Warren Edmond, Rob Allen, Karen Long, Jackie Aspden, all the staff and parents from St Mary’s CE Primary (Prestwich), John Moore, Andy Smith, Mike Sudder, Jess Wain, everyone else who marshalled, all at Singletrack magazine, Laura and Dave Bradshaw, Allen Bridge, Bury Council, Phil Lee from the Forestry Commission, The Nice Weather, Jo Allen, Joe from Bite Café, Carl Salisbury, Budge and anyone who I might have temporarily forgotten.

Most of all a HUGE thanks to all of you who paid money to take part and kept the faith. See you all in October eh?

I don’t know why, but I expected a broken nose to hurt more than that. Maybe it was the below-zero temperatures or the rush of adrenaline that you tend to experience when you’ve just landed on the ground on your face. Once I’d crawled up off the floor, moved my bike out of the way, I had a sit down.

I love sitting down on the ground at 5 in the morning. It’s great.

I could hear my nose clicking as I moved it side to side. I probably should stop doing that in case it comes off in my hand, I thought.

The weather conditions at the Kielder Chiller 24 hour race were pretty-much the same as they had been the last time I rode a bike there – in fact the last time I rode there the weather was just as wet and cold and I was engulfed in a thick cloud of abrasive mud. My brake pads disintegrated and I ended up in a bush. I said I’d never return but I did return and once again I was engulfed in a cloud of abrasive mud and my pads disintegrated.

Once again I pulled on my brake lever and apart from a loud metallic noise, nothing happened.

I didn’t land in a bush this time. If I had it might not have been so dramatic. This time I rode down a steep section of singletrack, unable to slow down. I rode off the side of the trail as it bent around to the right and was launched into the air as my front wheel suddenly encountered a large enough object.

I was racing in the pairs category with Phil, thankfully. We were winning too.

With only a few hours of the race left and a nice 2 or 3 lap gap to the second-place pair I was able to hand over to my super-dependable team mate and let him get on with finishing the job while I sat in the Team JMC pit, nursing my face. Eventually I went to sit in the car with the engine running and the heated seat on. The car subsequently filled with mud.

A win is a win, regardless of a broken bone and a very sad and now-in-need-of-serious-maintenance Santa Cruz Highball.

A massive thanks to Lisa and Mel who made me cups of tea and fed me painkillers. Also thanks to the ambulance man who decided not to send me to A&E, which was probably hundreds of miles away and full of drunken people with no tops on.

hover or click for witty captions…

The ride to Spain – somewhere in France

Filming Mountain Biking – The Untold British Story with Pip

The 3 Peaks Fell Race. Part of my annual routine.

Early-morning lap of the Marin Trail, Llanwrst

Sam and Guy before they’ve fixed their makeup and hair – first light after a very cold overnight bivvy, somewhere in Scotland

Sod racing, let’s pose for an album cover – Fort William in October

The M3 Project running challenge ends early with an annoying injury

Mull of Galloway wetsuit squadron

Blowing out of my arse – Cannock Chase

Tea as far as the eye can see

Weekday post-bivvy ride to work

Halfway across France – somewhere on the Atlantic Coast

Rachael and the Islabikes Pro Series – a bike that’s improved her confidence massively

Mull of Galloway foghorn

Rachael’s first night ride – Loving the Islabikes Pro Series Crieg 26. We even got chased by a dog

Eleanor learning essential life skills

Riding home from work the long way

The ride to Spain – somewhere in Normandy

Taking the solo win (and the case of bubbly) at Revolve24

Port Logan

Taking our newest family member, Millie, for a walk in Scotland during the hottest week….ever?

Me and Deb drive to Austria for the Salzkammergut Trophy. So proud of her to have taken part.

Sri Lanka

Rumble in the Jungle selfie with Jonny

Salzkammergut Trophy – scenery, bikes and beer

Relentless 24 – an unusually difficult weekend

writing for Singletrack – love it

Rumble in the Jungle in Sri Lanka – an awesome experience and loads of friends made. Here’s me and my mate Albert. We’re on the same page.

Yuki Ikeda – the winner of the Rumble in the Jungle

Singlespeeding the local XC race

Dawn, Revolve24 at Brands Hatch

Riding coast to coast to coast to coast across Scotland and Ireland with Sam, Guy, Geoff, Dave and Mike. If you’re going on a bike ride, do it with great people.

One of my favourites – the Coed Y Brenin Enduro

Manchester’s annual 3 inches of snow in January

I’m lucky to have the support of Santa Cruz and Jungle in the UK – here’s one of two carbon Highballs on the beach in Sri Lanka

So many people to thank for all of this – everyone at Jungle Imports and Santa Cruz for the support and amazing fast mountain bikes, Phil at Scott Sports UK for the bike that helped me win Revolve 24, Team JMC, Tom and the staff at Exposure Lights, Nils at Lyon for the brilliant Ortlieb bikepacking gear, Stevie at 2 Pure for keeping me stocked up with go-go-food, Chipps, Hannah and the gang at Singletrack Magazine for giving me chances to do cool things with very cool things, Steve and all at Islabikes, Phil Evans and Kate Hobson for the Sri Lanka experience that I’ll never forget, Sri Lankan Airlines for the Business Class flights with curry, all the curry chefs who’ve fed me in 2016, The Sleaford Mods, all my mates and to everyone out there that’s shouted ‘go on Jase’ from the side of a road or muddy field somewhere for the past 12 months.

No thanks to – angry French thugs, Spanish trains, crappy injuries.

Running (at least for an infrequent runner like me) is a gamble. You can do it for as long as you stay injury-free but if you’re unlucky, injury seems to strike decisively and without warning. One minute you’re trotting along pretending to be Mo Farah, the next you’re dragging your broken body home like a train wreck survivor. Something that would be a minor niggle when riding a bike seems to be a complete show-stopper in the world of running.

My 256 mile December challenge had lasted just 9 days before I picked up a muscle injury. I’ve done ‘something’ to my upper leg (ok my arse muscles in other words) that means I can’t run AT ALL. I can barely walk without pain and running, a whole week later, is still impossible.

So I’ve had to abandon it. I might have another go in January.

At least my bike still loves me.

In the meantime, Alan, Dave and Dean are still going and have just reached halfway! Remember they’re running for a great cause and imagine not having a roof over your head this Christmas (or at any time really). Drop them a few quid here.