Early start this morning to ride over to Rivington Barn to meet some lads from Horwich CC, including Russ, to do a cyclocross ride. Most people I guess are doing it as part of their 3 Peaks preparation, as I am. I got there late and everyone had gone so I rode up a likely-looking trail, up the rocky and knackered riverbed (is that the ICR?) and up to the end of the trail that leads to the PIke. There they are, coming down again. Russ is with them too so all is well. Most people are riding cross bikes but some are on MTB’s – there’s about 20 guys altogether. Some young, some not very young.

Off we went over some extremely boggy moorland, along some rocky trails (not much fun with a rigid fork and narrow cross tyres), along the road for a bit, down the trail that goes past the maggot farm, a run up a rocky track and across the moor to the cross and over to Peel Tower. A tough ride and a fairly brisk pace. One of the Horwich lot was asking me if I’d join the club and do some ‘cross racing with them this winter. I might have a do at that actually – plus it was nice to be invited. I think I’m going to go over to Leverhulme Park this week to do some CX training..you know, something with a bit of structure, purpose and perhaps most importantly, company. It’s handy really becasue I still can’t get my remounts right. I swear I’m going to smash my knackers and that’s really going to put me off….

After that I left them to make their way back over towards Rivvy and rode back towards home. My plan was to ditch this muddy bike and ride over to Macclesfield on the road bike. Not only was the cross bike filthy but the brake pads had by this time completly gone and I had no spares on me, so I couldn’t have done any more steep off-road stuff anyway given that I could only use the front brake and that wasn’t particularly effective. About 5 miles from home I get a puncture and ride onto a playing field to sort it. Bike upside down, wheel off and BLAM. An enormous, torrential, soaking downpour of epic proportions arrives and I’m getting soaked. The rain is so heavy that the bike gets knocked over and all of a sudden I become very hamfisted, I can’t get the patch to stick properly nor can I manage to get the gel wrapper I’m using as a tyre boot (puncture caused by some glass) to stay in place. What I am able to do really well though is swear like a trooper at the top of my voice.

Eventually I’m on my way again and the rain is still trying to batter me into submission. There’s a river running down the main road and this bloody rear tyre is still going flat. Not as quickly as it was before, but definately getting softer.

The road ride from the house to Macclesfield after a change of clothes and change of bike was fast, enjoyable and incident-free. I averaged about 18mph according to the ‘puter, which wasn’t bad considering the number of traffic lights/taxis/trams on the way. The country lanes in Cheshire were full of roadies too – I think there was a sportive on or something.

Gaz came over for a ride this morning. He’s in the UK for a week’s break from the hell that is sunny and hot Vancouver so took the opportunity to borrow one of my bikes and ride the buff trails of north Manchester. Oh hang on….that’s not right is it. It’s as muddy as I’ve ever seen it around here at the moment, no doubt the whole of the UK is like this. It’s been raining for as long as I can remember now and I seem to be wearing out brake pads at an alarming rate, in fact I’ve just been on Ebay buying some more…Avids for the cross bike this time. Perhaps I can get a bulk discount from someone. Anyway, it was fun and it’s good to catch up with mates you’ve not seen for ages. Mike came with us and characteristically crashed, this time binning it on some tarmac and taking the skin off his elbow.

There’s an article about Hit the North in this month’s 220 Triathlon mag apparently. Shame nobody seems to sell it.

The Prestwich Challenge is a 8 mile running race with some obstacles, such as a tunnel, some scramble nets, loads of steep nadgery valleys and a really dodgy bridge over a lake made out of pallets.

I started right at the front. I was passed by a few people early on but figured that at least some of them would start to fade eventually and I’d pass them again. The route immediately went off-road along the slippery cobbles and across the motorway bridge, down into Mere Clough and into the stream. Great. I’m going to get soaked only 5 minutes from the start. It’s probably about a kilometre long, this stream and it’s criss-crossed by fallen trees that you’ve got to go over or under then a tunnel at the end…..well, it’s a concrete pipe only big enough to crawl through, 40 feet long with a couple of bends in it. Most of it is therefore in total darkness. Near the end it gets narrower, starts to angle downwards and gets a bit sketchy as the water and the slippery surface tries to shoot you out of the end of the pipe a bit faster than you would like. Out of this, into a pool then a scramble up a muddy bank onto the trail (thank God I’m wearing fell shoes). Then it’s mostly trail running with more tunnels (dry ones), some really steep climbs where I was able to grab some places back (3 Peaks training paying off there!) and plenty more running along streams. 

Near the end, at the top of another climb, just after a scramble net, I’m handed a car tyre to carry for the next half mile. Cheers. After running with this I’m allowed to drop it then run down another muddy slope covered in fallen trees. This one’s so steep I’m surfing down it on my arse, into a stream at the bottom then a climb up an equally steep slope at the other side. Under a scramble net then I’m handed my tyre back to carry for the final half mile. The marshall offered me a bloody great big 255 that was off a Mercedes or something – I therefore ignored him and grabbed my trusty 155 off a Mini 😉

Almost at the end, I seem to have opened up a gap on the young lad I passed on the last climb and I’ve got to negotiate the crappy bridge/pontoon thing I mentioned earlier. I fell in almost immediately and had to swim across the lake still carrying my tyre on my shoulder. A crowd of spectators were predictably watching and cheering at the other side of the lake. After being allowed to leave the tyre on the floor all I had to do was negotiate a climb up and over a steel container (with ropes on it), a huge pile of straw bales, a skip, a scaffolding shimmy along on your hands and shins thing, a scaffolding thing you had to climb over and a run around the perimeter of the rugby pitch.

The guy who was behind me had closed the gap a bit by now. This had been a recurring theme for the last hour and a bit – I was picking people off in the long running sections then I was losing time because I’m a bit crapper than some at stupid obstacles. I’m not a bleedin’ monkey. Anyway, all I had to do now was run as fast as I could around this rugby pitch with someone trying to get past. Ouch.

He didn’t get past though and I crossed the line in 5th place. Apparently there were 190-something people taking part, although some were taking part in the team event (and had to do canoeing and carrying a team member on a stretcher). Quite pleased with that result, despite being extensively cut and bruised.

…the “Winter Sprinter Bicycle Assault Course”. It’s pencilled in for February. It’s going to be much smaller-scale than the “regular” HtN but seeing as we’re not doing a big one next year we’re going to do this sprint race instead.

5 laps or so, open to all types of bikes (although our expectation is that that people will race on either mountain bikes or cyclocross bikes), no camping, no showers, no beer tent, cheap entry fees, pie and peas for dinner and a big vat of mulled wine. Perhaps.

Andrew and I rode a lap yesterday. We’re going to use some footpaths that haven’t seen the feet or wheels of mankind for years and there are a couple of flights of steps to run up. We’ll also have a couple of cyclocross style obstacles that will force a dismount for those that can’t do really big bunny hops…

After the recce ride I took Rachael out in the trailer and finally taught Michael how to ride with clipless pedals. He got it in about 10 minutes! Ace.

We also went to Manchester yesterday to sort out Deb’s birthday present and to drop off my knackered mobile at the shop. We stopped off at Costa Coffee and Eleanor, who was sat on my lap, pulled a whole Grande Latte all over me, making it look like I’d wet myself. She got splashed a bit too so screamed the place down. She was ok, thankfully. The staff were great, gave me another brew on the house but I still had to walk around the busy city centre looking like I’d lost control of my bladder sometime earlier.