The Pits at Mayhem
Without the fitness or head for racing at Mountain Mayhem, I was delighted when a friend announced his solo entry. I don't want to race, but can pit for Grant and throw an all-nighter, drinking in the atmosphere. After the essential and random email trails, another friend Gavin accepted a late request/offer to stand in on the Singletrack team so Grant, Gavin and me amounted to a road trip. Friday came and after packing, then re-packing and finally doing that **oocha** full force boot shutting we were on our way. Rock on! Ah ... I'll just switch over from Radio 4 to Holy Fuck on the CD. Where ARE they going with that name? Such a quality, innovative band, super tight on stage.
Pat Adams knows a thing or two about putting on a mountain bike race. Original Source Mountain Mayhem is more than that; it's a weekend community event. It's my Mecca of 24 hour endurance racing. Four years ago, riding through the SAAB event village in gathering dusk, a full orchestra was playing and fireworks erupted, just as I gained the ridgeline overlooking the event village ... Special magical memories burnt onto my soul. Like Seb exiting the Bombhole, perfectly siloutted by a huge moon. The Diprose brothers doing 24 hour DJ and the Gorilla in 2007 With other events, it is the Thetford singletrack trails of Dusk till Dawn, the slick delivery of Mike Wilkens' Trans Wales in 2006. Detail events and my own event, Raasay Rumble. Many, many special people met and moments hardwired onto my brain through riding and racing bikes.
As always happens on the Mayhem morning, 08:00 cheekily becomes 09:30 and before you know it; 13:55. You are standing in the starting group, heart pounding at 170bpm. All kinds of euphoria spikes and belly churning doubt going on. Only, I'm shouldering women and children out the way on the 'wrong' side of the barriers so that I can see Grant come back from his run and get my hand on his saddle to secure his bike. How do I feel? Do I want to be racing? Dunno, yes. Maybe, ah! Here's Grant and there he goes. We decided on a two lap strategy so there is time to go and take some photos, bump in to Jim and D of Rat Race and mooch some more. Grant comes back in to pit in a good time, buzzing from the exertion and the fast final flow over the finish line. Bam! In, out off he went. Now I have the tummy churns and can feel the endorphin and adrenaline running through his system. Outside Rob Lee, John Pitchers and Rob Dean's easy-ups are buzzing with activity. James Leavesly and Anthony White are the other side of the exit strip. Grant makes two more pit stops and is still strong, but then we are sitting at 23:30, Grant's knee has popped. We (he more than me) are gutted but hopeful. I've administered as much anti inflammatory in as is sensible. A gentle rub, hot sweet tea and then he's back out. Judging from the locality of his problem, we both know that his leg's not going to fall off but equally know it is unlikely that the inflammation will decrease to an acceptable burn; rather than escalating to seething, sharp agony. Whilst waiting for Grant to come back round, a new and interesting style of heckling is introduced:
Heckler: 'What's your name?'Rider: 'what?' or ' '
Heckler: [one voice] 'murmur, grumble'
Heckler: 'What's your name?'
Rider: 'James?'
Heckler: [one voice turns into 20] 'GOOAAAN JAMES WOOOO!!!!'
James' face turns from grim determination and masked pain through shock to elation. He coughs back a chocking sob of happiness, pride and joy then painfully raises his left hand in acknowledgement and turns to smile. I'm savouring his moment. Around midnight, Grant came limping back into the Pits. Race over. We both know that continuing will almost certainly leave lasting damage. Earlier, Rob Dean made the correct choice to end his race, having crashed out of 2nd place on his fourth lap; in a sportsmanship style, he buzzed about until the adrenaline left, then accepted reality, had a shower and looked forward to reading his book and being able to sleep. The race has already taken casualties and will take more. Chatting to Zoe and Chrissie, Rob Lee and John Pitchers are both doing well. I watch as the top riders pit and ride with the same pace and efficiency as 1400, the day before. It is an education, My experience of 24 hour racing has always been the sharp end, where lap counts can get confused and pit stops lost in a haze of fatigue and pain (re-read the last sentence – and this is my passion because? answers on a postcard).Eventually, the desire for an all nighter dwindles so it's time to poodle off to bed. Through the night, Rob Lee and James Leavesly both left the race (respecting their bodies in the same way that Grant and Rob did) and I don't know any of the other soloists now, but know of them, Anthony White is metronomically tapping out laps amazing. And then 14:00 arrives and my friends are trickling in. I want to be one of the slack shouldered, deep chested riders. I need to have the horror and pain, the ecstasy and exasperation, the giggles and incredulity that an endurance racer feels at the end of 24 hours of racing.
Back in the car, we trundle on down a weary road. Watching from the pits and on the course has been wonderful for me. I've learnt so much by watching rather than doing. So Mayhem 2011, Grant is going to revise the mixed Brighton Jey Pride team and Iím coming back solo, come rain or shine. Shine please.