Phil Moore

A year can fly by, It only seems like a couple of months ago that i was in Belgium for SSEC2011 But just over a year later and I am struggling with the return to normality from 10 days away in France for SSEC2012 We left the UK in the rain to arrive in France to the same :-( music on, directions sorted we headed south.

It rained a lot and then it rained some more. Fortunately as we arrived in Floressas the sun began to shine and the temperature began to rise :-) friends were found, someone in a big orange fun bus might have been admonished by a local land owner for a bit of over zealous offroading (Sorry!) Belgian camper vans were pulled from the holes they were digging themselves into and then the serious business of celebrating the local culture began.

 The race had taken over the village and increased its number of residents three fold. Race HQ was the castle in the centre of the village where local beer was on tap and the specialty of the area confit de canard was being served for dinner. Saturday morning rolled around and clothing for racing was donned and we headed out on mass to the race start. The course was superb, hard climbs and super fun fast descents. After 5 laps i was a mess but the rejuvenate powers of wine and duck fat soon had me feeling better.

Sunday was a slow start, followed by a slow breakfast. Then we ventured out on the roads around Floressas in the warmth and sun to see the sights and stop to eat sausage in the sunshine. lounging in the sun after the ride it became apparent that the race organisers had food, beer and wine left over and it was our duty as the remaining campers to help them through this food mountain. it sounded like a hard task but we figured we could manage! The mayor of the village who earlier had been pulling stuck cars out of the mud of the campsite (have i mention it rained?) produced some of his vineyards own aperitif, too sweet for some but amazing to my taste buds. Then came the soup and more confit de canard,  all topped off by a monsterous thunder storm that we had the pleasure of watching come rolling in across the valley from the ramparts of the castle.

Monday morning arrived and so did the rain, bucket loads of it and just in time for us to try and pack away the tent. With dampened spirits and all the clothes i was wearing we left to go and explore some more of France.

We headed for Cahors and with it we appeared to bring the rain. Looking at maps we figured to head for the coast it never rains if there are beaches right? As it turns out for the next two days we had glorious sunshine and 30 degree heat, the sea was played in, meat was barbeque'd and the bikes were pulled out for some exploring along the amazing forest cycles paths of La Coubre.

The forest around here meets the sand dunes on the coast and any venturing off the cycle path seemed to involve deep sand and walking. Never the less we ventured up one of the sandy fire breaks to see if there was anything to find and low and behold singletrack was found sweet, sinuous flowing joyus trails.

 The only problem was the sun was setting and we had no lights and an uncertain distance to cover to get back to the campsite. We begrudgingly headed homeward but with the promise of more singletrack to ride once the sun rose again. Sure enough the next day provided alot more of the same, broken up with sections of leg destroying sandy fire breaks.

Friday morning heralded the start of the return to Calais via a campsite close to Rouen, We packed up slowly and hit the road. With in a couple of hours we found out where all the rain was hiding along with a pretty hefty dose of hail and thunder. And emergency layby meeting established a lack of enthusiasm for camping and a desire for home so the Burn was downed , music turned up and we headed for Calais.

   

Was to get spat out of the back of the first road race of the season on the start of the 5th lap :-( However it is not all bad, the sun was shining, the head winds were pleasant and The Granfondo Ti on loan From Upgrade was a dream to ride. So i spent the next 40k pedaling around  enjoying the sunshine whilst waiting for the race to end so i could get back into Gareth's car and get some food into my belly :-)

So Thursday night rolls around and after a day of throwing spanners in the workshop it is time to head out on the trusty KM810 for a pedal. I grab a snack, stuff a tube, some gels and chews into my pocket and hit the trails. The first climb comes round the corner and my legs feel like shit. I put it down to the ride into work.But I carry on, finding some sweet new (to me) singletrack using the powers of not knowing quite where i am going but still no improvement in the legs. A sneaky puncture induced lie down catches me out but is repaired in no time using Lezyne glueless patches and i am off again chewing down some Clifblocks in the vague hope i will start to feel a little more lively.... I avoid the choice of a Leith Hill death march and choose trails that will take me homewards.Then POP! Not another tube but instead me with 15 miles to go and running on empty. I reach into my jersey pocket and retrieve a Clifshot Caffeine citrus gel, it tastes like lemon curd (which is all good in my book!) and i tentatively start what i figure is going to be a slow, painful 15miles home. Holy shit, this stuff works fast! Why didn't i pop one of these in earlier? (because i am dumb thats why..) Legs feel better(ish) and i wend my way home via some local favorites in time for beans on toast and sweet sweet sleep :-)

So Thursdays lesson eat more food, you won't regret it

So it snowed ( yes i know it has all melted now but me getting to sit down and write about these things take time...) Now way back in October having had a ridiculous amount of fun riding Shaggys Prototype On-One Floater around the Oktoberfest course in Bristol i built myself a bastardised fat bike using some old dh wheels, a Small Surly karate monkey frame and variuos bits from the random parts bin thinking(hoping) it would snow like it did last year.

As Murphys law dictates it did not snow for ages so the Fat Monkey sat there doing nothing. During the snow i ha d a week off work so headed out for a ride and took out my 29er it was ace but i half regretted not taking the Fat Monkey out. So when the following Saturday rolled around I loaded up the wagon with the 29er and the Fat bike. Arriving in Westcott to still see a fair amount of snow kicking around i pulled out the Fatbike and set off into the hills with James and Gareth. We had not yet found a hill when the weight of the fat bike started to make me feel like a fat man trying to hold onto the back of a rapidly paced group of fit fuckers....

3 hours later after some coffee, whisky, ham egg and chips and some tumbling and some sweet trails i was a mess, I have felt better after racing for 12 hours. So when i got home the fat bike was shoved back into the garage with a vow too take it apart the first moment i had after having weighed it.

During the ride i had monikered it 37Ib's of hate and low and behold just before i began the therapeutic task of dismantling the beast yesterday she weighed in at her well earned name. It just goes show that slinging some fat heavy old wheels onto a frame floating around the loft does not make a fat bike it makes a monster.... ( i know... No shit!)

Still ridng in the snow with friends and whisky on a beautiful sunny day should  Is great even if you did end up bringing a pen to a knife fight....

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the candle that burns twice as bright ....
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Dane Searls 1988 - 2011