Further 2019
In the weeks and months leading up to Further we had been drip fed information from the illustrious race director, Camille. A cyclocross racer in his youth turned photographer and now the creator of the most revealing projects that I have had the pleasure of playing a part in, that being Further 2019. I say revealing as the first piece of information that we receive is that there is going to be a rally in the Ariege celebrating all that is good about our niche sport of adventure cycling and alongside this there will be an unsupported bike race which will explore the region as well as heading high into the Pyrenean mountains and over into Andorra and Spain. This was when I revealed the first thing to myself, whilst the promise of spending my days lounging around by the river and talking about tyre tread patterns sounds like a dream, I knew that I would never be quite content if I was back at the rally relaxing whilst there were other people out there pushing themselves to each and every kind of limit. So I signed up to race, knowing very few details other than it was being designed to break people.
Slowly, we, the riders, received more information about the race. First, the format, the race was to be made out of a combination of mandatory sectors, which have to be completed in order and free routing between these. Next, the start list, with the event being invitational there were familiar names on the list but it also bore a few surprises, I was certainly eager to find out how some of the road racers would shape up against ultra racing elite. As a relative newcomer to the sport I felt honoured to be part of such a line-up.
About a month before the start Camille sent up the gpx files for each of the sectors and the task of route planning started. This was something that I was fairly nervous about having never raced a free routing event before but I soon got into things using a combination of online mapping software,satellite photos and streetview to give me a fairly decent understanding of my route and the terrain I was about to cross. The total distance: 480km, seems fairly straightforward, total elevation: 14,500m, ah, that may prove to be an issue.
With this in the back of my mind, my attention then turned to optimising my setup to be as lightweight as possible but also have everything that I would need.
The bike of choice was my MASON Bokeh built up with 1x di2, I opted for a 40t chainring paired with an 11-42 cassette to allow me to winch myself up even the steepest of hills, I was rolling on a pair of HUNT 30 Carbon Dynamo Disc wheels which powered my lighting setup without fail. Tyre choice was a tricky one and in the end I went for as wide as I could squeeze in my frame with a 45mm up front and a 42mm at the back. Sleeping kit was minimal, just a bivvy and a down jacket as well some leg warmers and a thin fleece that could be used if necessary. I packed an extensive tool kit including 3 spare tubes, none of it was used in the end but I'm glad that I had it as the fear of being forced to scratch from a race due to mechanical issues is a big one for me.
Eventually, late August came, and it was time to pack everything up and head down to France. It was at this stage that the nervous excitement set in finding this chaotic equilibrium between cool contemplation of the race ahead and total panic that I have forgotten something, got the route planning wrong, chosen the wrong tyres etc etc. However when I arrived at Zero Neuf Escapes, base camp for the event, all fears were put aside. I was greeted with open arms to the sight of people pouring over maps and enjoying ice cold beer by the pool. The afternoon was spent assembling the bike and chatting with my fellow competitors, it was a relief to know that I wasn't the only one who felt grossly underprepared. After a bbq for dinner and maybe a couple more beers than necessary I was off to bed.
Perhaps helped by the alcohol I woke well rested in the morning and then proceeded to spend the next few hours faffing and drinking a seemingly endless supply of workshop coffee. A quick pre-race bike check from MASON mechanic Matt and I was ready to go.
The race was a Le Mans style start which meant that we all started by running across a field to frantically mount our bikes and head off onto Sector 1. This was a small loop which just passed back through the start in order to split the field up. I went off at a firm but comfortable pace riding within myself however I did find myself at the front of the race after things settled out. The first couple of hours passed very quickly and without any sort of drama and some sneaky route planning meant that I had a decent lead going into Sector 3, the climb up to Mt. Fourcat. What started as a road climb soon turned into gravel and it pitched up; It was at this point that things started to take a turn for the worse. I began to suffer in the heat and was forced to dismount and start to push my bike, my stomach was churning and started to feel dizzy so I stopped to sit down. It was at this point that I was sick for the first time leaving those precious fluids that I had worked so hard to conserve and had no hope of replenishing for a few hours on the side of the mountain.
Not long after getting moving I was passed by Tim O’Rourke who seemed to be flying, soon after ex-elite road racer Lisen Hockings caught up with me and we pushed our bikes together for 10 mins or so through an unrideable section but I struggled to keep the pace so let her drift ahead. Eventually it opened up and the summit could finally be seen. We had been informed that half way up the path would split into two, one path would carry straight on and the other went round to the right the long way round but crucially via a water source, this was my target now, the incentive of rehydration driving me on. Progress up the mountain was slow having to stop every couple of minutes to put down the bike and rest my shoulders. After half an hour of this stop start I was forced to stop and be sick again; I try to get going but I’m feeling dangerously low on energy so decide to have a bit of a sit down and a chill in the shade of a nearby cairn. The friendly face of Josh Ibbet pops up out of the dead ground, unfortunately it clear to see that he is in just as bad a state as I am if not worse. We sit together for 20 mins or so mumbling at each other about how bad we feel as Hamish Paine and Emma Pooley pass us both looking super fresh.
I slowly pick myself up and recommence the climb, I turn right at the fork and find the water source and down two bottles of Dioralyte straight away before refilling completely. Needless to say I felt a million times better the decision is made to go cross country and head straight up across the scrubland. Five minutes later as i’m stood there waist deep in a bush I start to think this may not have been the wisest decision but I press on and after what seems like an eternity the summit of Mt. Fourcat appears out of nowhere, I see Camille, shake his hand and then simply lie down on the grass and close my eyes. I feel horrible, like I’m drunk almost slurring my words as I describe my day to the assembled crowd but at least I know that there is no more up for a couple of hours.
The sun is starting to set and Im aware that the temperature is now dropping, after suffering from what I now assume was mild heat stroke in the day I knew that would have been a classic move from me to now go hypothermic at night so I say my farewells and leave the small comfort that was summit. As night falls and the temperature drops I begin to feel progressively better and before long I’m powering my way along, and over. I get to the start of Sector five at around midnight and see two bikes parked against a wall and get a mental boost. I move ahead a hundred meters or so and check the tracker for the first time to see that there was only one rider ahead of me, Olympic medalist Emma Pooley. I press on as feel strong and the miles tick by I check the tracker once more and see that Emma had gone to sleep and I had passed her half way up the Col Du Port. I reach a village at the base of the long climb up the Andorra at around 0530 and spot that there is a bakery that opens in two hours so I take the opportunity to get my head down and have some recovery on a picnic table.
I’m woken by my alarm at 0715 with just enough time to pack my kit up and find the bakery doors as they are opening, not long after I leave with a belly full of Croissant and a bike laden with chocolate bars, crisps and coke. From here It's all uphill until the highest point of the race, the Port du Rat an old smuggling route peaking at over 2700m. The road section was fairly straightforward, about 12km at 8% with the odd ramp up however this then transitioned to a gravel climb which ended abruptly with around 600m of vertical ascent left. It was at this point that Emma passed which really highlighted how much faster she was than me when the road pitched upwards.
The remainder of the climb followed a smugglers path which didn't allow for pushing of t
the bike let alone riding. Two hours of bike carrying later I reach the highpoint of the race only to be greeted by a descent that I had no chance of riding. I have always found that pushing/carrying your bike downhill is rarely an enjoyable and rewarding experience as you have had to work so hard to gain the altitude and you never get the reward of the descent. Nonetheless, I press on reach a ski resort and more importantly a road which descended all the way into La Messana the regional town in Andorra. A long road climb into spain awaited me so took the opportunity to grab a mid afternoon meal (or two!).
The next few hours were mainly on the road and I mostly zone out as I go up out of andorra and through the Sapnish valleys. My next mental hurdle was the pass back into France which was ended in an 800m hike-a-bike over 3 km. It's a long slog up the valley so I stop halfway to have a well rounded dinner of three salted caramel gels as it was all that I could stomach at the time. Checking the tracker I notice that Emma has stopped in a refuge at the base of the climb, spurred on by this fact and thinking that she wasn't planning on crossing at night I press on and before long I reach the foot of the climb. It's around 11pm and I start the climb, progress is extremely slow due to the severity of the terrain and lack of light but I keep moving, my thought process is that I need at least three hours lead at the start of the day if I have any chance of winning. After feeling fine all day my stomach is starting to feel the effects of the days excursions and around 2am my “dinner” makes a reappearance on the grass. I'm not sleepy but all energy is gone from my body the decision is made that it's time to get my head down so I whip out my bivvy and have two hours of blissful uninterrupted sleep no more than a foot from my stomach contents.
My alarm wakes me and a pack away my kit and as I look back down the mountain, my heart drops as I see a white light storming its way up the hill maybe only an hour behind me. It dawns on me that she must have woken early to start the climb. I double time it up the last 300m of the climb barely stopping to put my bike down. To my relief the summit revealed a gravel track which wound its way down into France. By now its light but i'm determined to keep my lead for as long as possible so I press on only stopping to shed layers as the sun slowly warmed me up . I reach a small town and spot a supermarket where I perform the classic smash and grab without really thinking what I'm buying and come out with chocolate milk, haribo and smoked trout, an odd selection for sure.
This Is when Emma comes storming past without hesitation, My heart drops as in my sleep deprived mind it feels like the event is over for me and there was no way of catching her now. Looking back at things now it would have helped to have a positive approach on things as the margins were tight however at that time I lost the mental battle and settled for second. From here the last 8 hours of riding seemed more like a procession to the finish rather than a race for me the miles just ticked by and I arrived at the finish early evening around two an a half hours behind Emma.
Perhaps the biggest lesson that I took away from the race is that there are times when my mind does lose out. It admitted defeat early when I probably could have carried on. I took the easy option and was satisfied with it until weeks later where I really thought deeply about my learnings.
Overall I was happy with a second place but It has left me with some unfinished business with the event and ill be back next year for sure.
