No pictures, so lots of words!
Our little group (nos. 69 to 74, Me, Les, Andy, Speedy, Carl and Kev.) were assembled far too early on Saturday morning. Could have had an extra hour in bed! At least we had chance to sit around and shoot the breeze for a while as we waited for our 11.35 start time. My 640 was first away, followed by the gaggle of 450's, with only Carl's WR250 breaking up the sea of orange.
The short run to the first check was enlivened by Kev getting stuck in the mudhole and his bike refusing to restart! The first test was an interesting mix of surfaces, but the parallel ruts along the fenceline looked the worst. Dropping down the hill to the fire road I could hear Andy behind me, and as convention dictates, we raced for the line, even though it wasn't timed. A depression in the road fully compressed my suspension, then bounced me nearly off the bike, but I managed to stay on. Must remember that one for later!
From the test, the track gradualy narrowed until we were riding in a green tunnel, on a clay like surface which was the slippiest stuff I've ridden for some time. Opting to paddle through this was tiring, but at least kept you vertical.
The second test was another interesting mix, having a very well worn section of whoops, a decreasing radius fire road corner (bugger!) a stretch of triple ruts and a boggy bit to contend with. Commited to memory, we rode on to finish the lap with a fantastic stretch of flowing fire roads back to the paddock. I nearly overshot one right hander as I was distracted by the bloke and his little kid, playing on the outside of the bend. Not the most sensible place to be!
Regrouped, changed into race shirts instead of jackets, and ready for the second lap. Into the test I found that the ruts had widened enough to allow a more comfortable run down, I managed to get behind Carl on the last descent. He waved me past, and I remembered the compression. Not an outstanding run, but not disasterous. Carl shook his head at the end. I don't think he's seen the 640 on full chat before!
On with the lap, and the weekend takes a bit of a downer. Les, riding with a flat front tyre, goes down hard. We were further up the track at a clearing waiting for him to catch up. When he didn't appear we flagged the next bike down, to be told that there was an injured rider a few minutes back. I walked down to where he was, relieved to find he was sat up, but concerned that he was in some discomfort. There was another rider who had stayed with him, and I didn't get his name, so thank you if you are reading this! The marshall's organised for the ambulance to pick Les up, so I rode his bike back to where Andy was waiting, taking his van keys with me for later. We pushed the KTM into the bushes at the side of the track where it could be collected at the end of the day.
At the start of the second test, Andy rode to the lights in front of two later numbers, and took off. They looked a bit put out, so I shouted "I won't hold you up!"
"Not if we go first", one of them answered. Not what I meant, but for arguments sake I let them go. The second one I passed just into the triple ruts, after having a huge moment which I thought would end my day. The first one had my front tyre up his arse through the lights, so I figure I rode that one as hard as I could.
We pressed on to the end of the lap, so that we could sort out retrieving Les's bike from the forest. Andy followed a marshall for as far as he could in Les's van, then rode pillion through the narrower bits to the clearing. An "interesting" ride is how he described it later!
Denise and I hung around and drank tea awaiting his return. The St John's Landrover came back in, so we collected some of Les's gear out of the back. Helmet, one jacket sleeve, one arm of his body armour, one glove. The nice lady then scared the crap out of me by saying that Les had been taken to Swansea by air-ambulance, then quickly pointing out this was done for convenience rather than severity of injury when she saw my reaction. When Andy returns, I point out to him that I rang the injured party's wife last time (his!) so now it's his turn.
After a shower and a couple of beers we wandered into town in search of sustenance. This we found at the same pub we found it at last year, the name of which I can't remember. I can show you where it is though. Plenty of good food fuelled us up nicely for tomorrow, and we strolled back in the company of Louisdut and friends. Another beer or two as a nightcap, and we hit the tents/trailer/van at a reasonable hour.
Sunday morning, 6.30, and after a restless night I walked to the toilets. On my return I met Andy, who asked if I noticed anything missing. A quick scan round our camp, and suddenly I realise. Les's van and trailer aren't there! Thinking that they have been stolen, I am spitting expletives, until Andy points out that Les himself has took them. Now I am confused, isn't Les the guy we left in the hospital with a suspected broken left humerus? How the? What the?
My head hurts.
Turns out that after putting his arm in plaster, they then decided to x-ray. This shows no break, but dislocated. They then discharge him. At midnight.
All our phones came up with no answer, so he rang his wife, who drove from Middlewich to Swansea, then from Swansea up to llandovery. All Les's clothes are in his van, so at 5.00am a bloke in a hospital gown and motocross boots was seen prowling round the rugby club, looking for us. Some people may never recover from this sight.
Back to the racing, and the morning is overcast, so jackets back on. The course is to be the reverse of yesterday, and remembering what the going was like for the first section, I let the bike have its head. Every corner comes off nicely, steady in, throttle out, back end drifting just enough. Why can't I do this all the time?
"On it this morning are we?" Grins Andy as we wait at the road for the others to catch up. Following the track to the first test (which is now the second test backwards), we are just in time to see the Aprilla Caponord set off for his untimed lap. At my turn, I am suprised to find Andy at the side of the boggy bit, wiping copious quantities of mud off himself. The rut he had chosen went too close to a fallen tree, and a root had taken the bike from under him! The Aprilla was having a lie down a little further up the hill. As this wasn't timed I stopped to help him pick it up and get going again. Something of a heavy beast that is!
At the end of the test, waterproofs started to come off, people were warming up. This was the cue for the drizzle to start, drizzle which steadily intensified all day!
As we got nearer to the second test (first yesterday, do keep up) the green tunnel with the slippery surface had got slippier. A freshly greased ice-rink spings to mind. I was following a young lady on a 250EXC, Jenny Wright, which is always a nicer experience than following a bloke, as the rear view is more aesthetically pleasing.
Anyway, I took my eyes off her for a second to avoid a branch, and she disappeared!
I put my bike on the sidestand to help her up, and found I could hardly stand myself! Her husband turned up a few seconds later, after the bike was righted, cunning move that.
At the test start, the marshall who took Andy to collect Les's bike explained where the timing lights were, so that no-one tried a death defying lunge at the end. Riding it in reverse, the parallel ruts were now uphill, and wet. This was not fun, grip was scarce, and directional control difficult. I had just got past paddling speed, but not quite up to gyroscopic straight line speed when the bike decided to change ruts. This was unfortunate, as I personally was commited to the rut we were already in. I lost the subsequent battle of wills, and the whole plot went into the ferns, horizontally. Arse.
Eventually I got down to the end, but this did not bode well for a good time next lap.
After a reviving brew at the pits, we set off on the second lap. I let Andy go first on the fire road this time, and stayed just out of roost range as we performed synchronised drifts round the bends.
Up to the first test, and I tell myself to miss Andy's rut. I don't, and end up nearly jumping off to avoid the roots. Halfway through and there's a Honda in the left hand rut. as I pull alongside, he moves right, unintentionally, but I can't avoid clouting his elbow with mine. Manage to stay on and chase after Kev. Get a couple of the bends spot on, but mess up the climb to the finish, leaving me a couple of seconds behind him. Good enough.
As the rain continues to fall, we wind our way around the course. In the green tunnel, Speedy wipes his clutch lever off on a tree and sets about replacing it. I get to the test start just after Carl. He lets me back in front of him, and warns me that the rider currently at the lights is taking it easy, and I should wait a while. I figure that if I go now and pass him before the first uphill, then I will have a clearer run. This nearly works, though in my haste I overshoot one of the bends and lose a few yards. I have to wait until the track splits to overtake, but no matter. At the mudhole before the parallel ruts, there is a Honda sideways across the track, struggling to get traction. The same one! There is a gap behind his back wheel and I slot the bike through it and set off up the ruts. This time both bike and I have the same idea, and get through at a reasonable rate of knots.
The last climb up to the pits provides a sting in the tail, as I lose grip halfway up, and have to slip and slide my way back down to get another run. I claw my way to the top, and the bike starts spitting and coughing. Whatever it is, I nurse it back to the pits, where we are all tired, but happy.
An excellent event, thourougly enjoyed.
Thanks to all at WTRA, and on behalf of Les, a huge thanks to the St John's and the Air-ambulance!
Mark