24Hours of Muddy Mountain Mayhem (one down two to go)

In such a high quality open category women’s field it was exciting enough to even be part of the start sheet and just before the start I was contemplating again that little gem told to me last year by Rob Lee when attempting my first solo that your second one is usually your worst!! I was therefore secretly a little envious of those doing their first one as the sheer adrenalin of this life changing (a bit cliché I know) experience can certainly help get you through but I guess more than anything I was in total admiration of eventual top trio Jenn, Kate and Jenn who have done (and won) so many 24hour solos already - they must truly have that mind over matter thing nailed down.

Here for your amusement are a couple of atmospheric shots of the (relative) calm before the storm:

Firstly here’s me making that “I’m gonna feel good regardless” dress choice of favourite Nalini top in white (Gulp!) and not white (!) Sugoi RS shorts. These shorts may feel like super silky underwear and look potentially see-through on the hanger (don’t worry they’re not) but they easily stood up to the off-road abuse of the first eight-hour shift, were sooooo comfy and have come out of the wash as good as new.

Secondly here is that “only twenty-four hours to go” moment captured whilst packed like a sardine in the start funnel before the le-mans style run to find your bike. Oh yes, and it started to rain at around 1.58pm!!




So how did it go then? Well, it was all such a blur and a bit difficult to condense such an huge adventure down to something short enough where you won’t lose the will to live by the end of it but I’ll give it a shot…












In a nutshell the first eight-hour shift went fine stopping each lap for bottles and food and after changing over to mud tyres following a couple of speedway style laps, the course seemed to be riding pretty OK during this time. I’m a bit rubbish in the mud but with the right tyres it was mostly rideable even for me and I was optimistic that I could keep on going if this was as bad as it got so I popped in for a change of clothes into something warmer at around 10pm-ish and dragged my butt out for the horrible night shift. Blimey that Gore liquid shirt is well pink, even in the dark!

I think it was around 2am-ish when it started to rain again and by 4am-ish sections of the course resembled trying to ride your bike through peanut butter. I was soaked to the skin and cold through to the marrow and this wasn’t helped by the fact that I was also struggling to keep any food down. I just couldn’t stop shaking and luckily Mr M had just got back from his own muddy lap and he threw a load of clothes on top of me (whilst managing to take this lovely “leave me alone I’m dying” shot) and exchanged my soggy helmet and buff for the magic bobble hat that is usually only in service during mid-winter!!

Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to the low point of my race. Having hit this point before (albeit a few hours earlier last time) it was not wholly unexpected and I knew that if I could just get warm and eat something I would be able to get back out so I just bided my time until I could stop shivering and feel hungry again. This process took a bit longer than I wanted but after a while I hauled myself into the warmest clothes I had (skins top was my saviour) and listened to the sound of the rain pattering on the van roof whilst downing a couple of pots of rice pudding and custard with a Pringles chaser.







It was now fully light and Jo was up and about looking toasty warm in an impromptu pink fleece number and had come over to see if I was still alive. I think she thought I looked dead but I felt that I might just about be alive so I duly set about churning it out to bag 14 laps in just over 25 hours and collect my finishers medal. I’m quite surprised I didn’t get trench foot such was the depth of the Somme-like muddy single-track by the end of the race.
That last stint just seemed to take forever and the course conditions were getting worse and worse. Lots of riders had clearly had enough by now but those that were still going were kindly taking the trouble to cheer on the weary soloists, which together with the equally worn out but still vocal spectators was really lifting and made me determined to keep going until the bitter end. Thanks especially to Jenn H who, at the pointy end of the race, took the time to give me a few words of encouragement and she was clearly really feeling the pain by then.





A very useful lesson learnt this time was that if you are lucky enough to have a dedicated “only for you” support crew of any kind then you should give them a big hug right now and not let them go. This is particularly true when the weather is not kind and I can easily see where this kind of support would make at least a few laps difference over a 24hour period.