The Erlestoke 12 has been a club favourite longer than it's gone by that name- Set2Rise was testing RCCers with the same singletrack some years back. It's also for the last few years had weather that could at worst be described as OK and mostly as fantastic, so apparently it was time to see if the current lot could stomach some slidier trails!
On and off rain in the week previous meant waking up on the morning of the race to yet another downpour was something of an act of of resignation. Still the weather forecast said it should clear later, so into the car and off down the motorway to Wiltshire. Sure enough, things had calmed down to light showers as tents were put up, race numbers collected and amount of waterproofing deliberated over. Then, on, the start line, just before the off, it stopped! Happy smiles all round.
And then we were racing.
From the off it was clear there were was going to be a fast group of twelve hour riders I wasn't going to be keeping pace with. That's alright, I thought, most of them are probably pairs or teams, so I'll just settle down, Erlestoke has cracking singletrack, I'll just enjoy that. Except. The rain had made much of it so slick that just staying upright was tiring enough, let alone finding traction and keeping a decent pace up the hills. Still, there's nothing a stiff breeze and a hundred or more bikes lapping to help dry the trails out, so I tractored on.
My first two laps were mostly quiet, the fast group up ahead and the rest somewhere behind, I just got on with it. I'd started lap two just before the 1pm start for the 6 hour race meaning the fast lot from that started reeling me in before I arrived back again. I found Colin at the handover, muttered something about it being greasy out and carried on.
Three laps down and I pulled over to rest shoulders and back weary after three hours of keeping tyres down and handlebars up on Wiltshires best answer to low friction grease. A cup of tea, a chat, some food, a tweak of tyre pressures and some bike cleaning worked marvels for lap four.
The sun had come out too and the woods were drying out in some of the more fun places. The singletrack became enjoyable, grin inducing, not just survivable, although the mud in the bombholes meant carrying enough speed to get up the other side was near impossible!
7.15, 6 laps down and another cup of tea was calling. A rest, a change of kit and lights fitted ready for the last shift. Then it started raining. Ah well, see if it will blow through. It didn't. Every surface would be getting slicker by the minute. I'd like to say I rode off gazing grimly into the night, but honestly I didn't fancy spending the next few hours pushing my bike up and down unrideable muddy slopes in the dark. I decided I'd finish on a high, bought a bacon roll and put my feet up.
Next year?
Mat