Fat Lad Rides Again

The promise of good weather had long since evaporated as we packed up for Mountain Mayhem.‭ ‬Because Mrs Fat Lad was well this year and cracking the whip to get me organised the van we had loaned from her workplace was loaded and ready to go the night before departure.‭

We had a good drive down and arrived at Eastnor Castle around lunchtime with loads of time to put up Gazebos and tents without running round like lunatics.‭ ‬A gazebo donated by Donny Dave from the early early days of the pootle crew was huge and would become the hub of most of the Bad Brains crew for the upcoming weekend.‭ ‬The afternoon rolled on and people started arriving setting up too and our little closure started to fill,‭ ‬the campsite pulling together laughter and excited conversation filling the air.‭

With the majority of the club set up riders set off out in small pockets of fun to pre-ride the course.‭ ‬I was adamant that I would be riding it enough over the next few days and dug my feet in staying firmly in the campsite beer in hand.‭ ‬That was until stAn bullied me into it.‭ ‬stAn and I pootled round course taking in the awesome views of the Malverns just spinning away in the late evening warmth.‭ ‬The track was awesome‭; ‬firm,‭ ‬dusty,‭ ‬twisty singletrack heaven.‭ ‬It was going to be rubbish if it rained…

COURSE DESCRIPTION

Out of the start/finish gate and left on grass flat.‭ ‬Left again up medium gradient grass climb.‭ ‬Climb for about a mile and a half.‭ ‬Level Off for a few hundred yards then climb some more.‭ ‬Hit the first summit,‭ ‬some technical descending with two gentle drop offs.‭ ‬A sharp right hander hairpin on a descent,‭ ‬then off camber rooty woods for the last climb of the first half.‭ ‬Down the long long shallow grass descent back through the campsite waving to your mates and then up the very sharp,‭ ‬steep but short climb and that’s the‭ ‬lion‭’‬s share of climbing done.‭ ‬Follow the ridge of the hill sharp drop onto a right hand fire road.‭ ‬Out onto a long grass drag gentle climb into the twisty wooded singletrack quick blast back down the fields and back into the start/finish‭ ‬area.

Back in the camp site everyone had now arrived and the atmosphere grew warmer even as the night cooled.‭ ‬Down barbecued food and cold beer the laughs eventually had to give way to sleep and we all retired for the night a long weekend ahead.‭ During the small dark hours the heavens opened, pouring what felt like a years worth of precipitation onto canvas above our dozing heads.

Day broke early as the light streamed in through the thin fabric of our makeshift weekend homes. One good (and healthy I might add) breakfast inside me I wandered about fettling the bike and generally getting ready to break my first lap virginity. At Mayhem the riders have a short run to try and break up the pack and despite having three events under my belt its a joy I had yet to experience.

Mrs Fat Lad’s amazing company had donated jerseys to the two Pootle Crew teams and all assembled for some soul stealing we looked mighty fine:

I meandered more and more aimlessly until my better half reminded me I had a race to get ready for. In what seemed to be the blink of an eye I was stood in the back quarter of the assembled riders waiting for the hooter to go for our run. My bike was placed somewhere I would remember where it was and as Glen (Ginsters), Aidy (Bad Brains Vets 2) and Dave (Pootle Crew “Racing Not Riding”) headed off for the front, Chip (Bad Brains Vets 1) and I (Pootle Crew “Riding Not Racing”) stayed towards the rear, the jostle and elbows out for those younger than Chip and with a more competitive streak than I.

2pm and the horn sounded as several hundred riders trotted out for 24hrs of the unknown. Chip and I jogged away from the start running steady and generally taking the piss as we went. With the bike beneath me I headed out good and slow knowing from passed on club knowledge how badly these things bottleneck.

Arriving at the first climb of the day there was already a very long queue and it was time for our national stereotype to shine as we all politely waited our turn.

‭As the climb widened it became more dispersed and after too much pushing without choice I was pedalling once more. I had to queue a few more times in the first half of the course where the singletrack was too tight to allow passing but as I hit the start of what was last years Kenda climb I flew down the long fast wide track back into camp.

With the pack well and truly dispersed now my only regret was riding on mud tyres for what was a sticky but not muddy course. With a grin on my face I rolled into the coral, snapped the baton onto Phil’s wrist and headed back to camp for some food. One and a half hours down 22.5 to go…

‭The sky stayed sad Monday grey, the colour refusing to mimic the mood of the club. I got changed, had a bit of food and headed out to the long downhill run to cheer riders, club and strangers alike, onwards. This event was Lynne’s first 24hr race and we lined the course whooping and cheering like loons as she passed with huge smile on her beaming face. Afternoon faded into evening and the peoples-democratic-republic-of-pootle decided tactics for the darkness ahead. Club tradition upheld we decided on double laps so people could get decent stretches of kip.

‭Really we should see these things coming….

‭Fat Lad

P.S. check out the new Mrs Fat Lad Photo site @ www.sarahshawphotography.co.uk for more Mayhem pictures while you wait for the next thrilling instalment