As you may have noticed the ‘London X League’ has nothing London about it, standing joke, you can generally drive to Dover to do a race in a field that is, to be fair, no more or less unique in features than say Regents Park and once you get there you find not only is there no facilities beyond a few tree’s and a table for sign-on, there’s more than likely no parking either, amazing (none of this detracts from the fun mind).
Chaaaaarge!! The capaign begins! (photo courtesy www.cross-crazy.com)
BUT Happy Valley, at least partially near civilization, just outside Brighton (what post code is that South South And Then Some?) was the venue for Round 3. Having made it by the skin of my teeth and parked a mere 2km from the sign on I was relieved to hear the relatively flat and non technical course was going to be even less tech than last year. The hurdle that had been my nemesis was taken out and the fun wooded section had been dropped.
Trying to inflict some pain, succeeding in hurting myself (photo courtesy www.cross-crazy.com)
Had no idea why they did this but maybe they felt at Round 3 should be a bit more of a warm up to the season than an all out collarbone smashing chainring smasher. Either way I was happy. With only James Duguid to keep me company and no Percy Pigs from Alex to keep me motivated I was out for a bit of a lonely ride from the darkest corner of the great unwashed, the non gridded yahoo’s who form the basis for any decent cross race.
James got a front line start, mmmm guess no team tactics this round, three lines later the rabble joined. Great start behind Cammy the giant Scot from Sigma La Fuga, oops he’s having gearing issues, get round him, give it the boot.
James and a small elite group of evil juniors and annoyingly quick Sylvain Garde have already smashed a commanding lead by hairpin one, I’m foraging for a place in Mick Bells chasing group that he’s muscled into submission. We all follow Mick, we do what Mick does, we shalt not question the pace, we shalt not pass Mick OH BALLS TO THAT, 5 to go I blast around the 6 strong group. Mick no doubt on my wheel but we’ve dropped a couple of clingons. Smash smash smash, no hope of catching the leaders, manage a few encouraging shouts to James who really couldn’t hear me but it made me feel better, reflected glory and all that.
Mick Bell commands the chase as we all melt (photo courtesy http://www.cross-crazy.com)
Mick and I trade punches, me horrendously slow in the hairpins, Mick solid like a pumpkin on paving slab, my sketchy cornering meaning I’m having to charge past him into the hairpins to control his pace. Final lap, Mick and I drop our final clingon, somewhere I decided best to not take on Londons X’s fastest male Vet in a sprint and I run him super wide out the corners, forcing him off line, two straights and the glory of anonymous 6th is mine RHAAAAR!!!
Jimbob giving it the beans to edge out Sylvain (photo courtesy www.cross-crazy.com)
Jimbo stomps in a fantastic 3rd against the worst of opponents, the skilled teen, mercifully a Senior won. I’m a broken man, good thing the drive home isn’t far, pffff.
