Crystal Palace

London traffic is bad enough. Driving into London in rush hour is never a great idea if you want to get to your destination quickly. So you can imagine how much it added to my nerves when I tried to get from work (Essex) to Crystal Palace (South East London) for a Tuesday night race with a tail-back on the A13 near Tilbury due to a snarl up on the Dartford Crossing (the notorious M25) and further queuing traffic one the same road closer to town due to a broken down car in the Blackwall Tunnel. After a few more hold-ups due to accidents and several wrong turns I was ready to pack it in for a bad job and head home.

But I figured that it would make sense to at least get a flavour for the circuit as a spectator, and familiarise myself with the route there, so I plodded on. On arriving in the car park at nearly 19:00 on the dot I noticed that the Juniors were still racing - perhaps I could still make it.

I got dressed as quickly as possible, and got the bike together while keeping an eye on the Juniors who thankfully kept circulating at race pace. Excellent. A friendly marshall directed me to the sign on desk and soon I was hurriedly pinning my number on with nervous hands.

I barely had time for a quick leak before rolling out onto the track for the first time to suss it out. I was hoping for a few laps to get a feel for it, but basically I got two circuits in before we all stopped at the line. I'd had enough time to work out that the corner at the bottom of the hill would take some learning, but otherwise thought it would be a nice, if demanding, circuit.

The pace was quite quick right from the get-go. Wanting to keep out of trouble while I got used to the track I decided to hang back; in retrospect a bad idea on such a narrow and technical track.

The Cat 3/4 group rapidly became quite strung out, and I found that I was battling through the corner at the bottom of the hill (originally Fisherman's Corner of the pre-war race track) and, to a lesser extent, the hairpin at the end of the start-finish straight. Fisherman's corner is a blind double apex with a huge bush/hedge at the apex which effectively makes the exit completely unsighted. I found approaching the corner at 50+km/h can be quite unnerving, especially as I was unsure of the appropriate entry speed or correct line. These will come with time, but last night it meant I lost ground every time through the corner which I had to make up on the climb back up to the start-finish straight.

The climb, previous known as The Glade, is mean. It is long and steep enough for you to know about it, and you need more than momentum to get up it. So playing catch-up on every lap up this drag really didn't help at all.

After a few laps I was dropped, but I kept the hammer down knowing that some of the weaker climbers would succumb and I'd have a few riders to work with. And so they did, but one of the guys seemed more intent on making pointless attacks to hurt the rest of us rather than working together. Eventually he attacked too hard and dropped himself. The rest of us never really got to cooperating properly and so splinted until eventually I was solo for the last few laps.

So overall, a hard outing on a wonderfully demanding circuit. This is the criterium racing that I've dreamed of since I was a teenager with a silly tan. I'm sure my racing will improve; I just need to learn the circuit, and work on my bike handling. A bit more proper time on the bike, like the hill hunting ride my mate Paul and I did on the Bank Holiday, can't hurt either.

I can't wait for next Tuesday, hopefully with less travel chaos so I arrive calmer, and some get return on the saddle time I plan to put in over the next few days. Of course, it should also set me up nicely for the Smithfield Nocturne which is now a week and a half off.

Onward!

Bonus blog inclusion: Crystal Palace, from the saddle of the Ribble

In the Pre-War period, Crystal Palace Park was also a motor racing circuit. Motor racing ceased in the late 1960's, but much of the original circuit remains. The cycle circuit uses part of the original Pre-War infield track that loops around the fishing lake.

On a bicycle, the lap starts easily enough on the straight on Terrace Straight (top right of the map) roughly level with Pond Hairpin in what is the wrong direction for the original track. The tarmac of this straight must be pretty old because it is quite broken, but is perfectly rideable and adds character.

The Link is now configured the other way around from the original and is fairly quick, but also fairly straightforward once you've sussed it out; only a little bit of broken tarmac at the entry makes it more interesting.

Out of The Link, it is a fast run to Pond Hairpin, which is fairly sharp but drops off viciously at the apex making line choice important - thankfully it is smooth. Because we are going the wrong way, Fisherman's Rise is a fast, full speed, meandering descent which leads down to the blind, double apex corner called Fisherman's Bend.

At the bottom of the hill Fisherman's Bend kinks and then disappears left behind a big fat bush/hedge that completely blocks the view of the exit as well as the large tree and grassy drop-off that wait to punish. This corner spooked me, but I'm sure will become easier as I learn it. I think it is much like T1 at Zwartkops in that sense.

Next up is Fisherman's Bend, a lovely double apex, decreasing radius which drops away to start with, but then lifts up, and can be taken pretty much as fast as you can arrive at it - which is great because it leads onto The Glade - a hard climb back up to the start-finish straight.

Back in action

Thankfully my health has returned, and I've been back on the bike since Thursday. The first day back was mega - the well rested legs felt so powerful and my acceleration was just crazy. The only problem is that I have lost a bit of cardio fitness.

I have two weeks until the Nocturne, so this Bank Holiday, and next week I'll be training carefully and intensively to try to get my form back. It should be do-able - I'm feeling very positive about it.

Of Mice and Men

Good news: I am getting better, even if my GP is still a bit baffled with what is wrong with me.

Bad news: I won't make the Hillingdon GP.

As I mentioned in my last post, I was on course of kick-ass antibiotics that worked well to sort out the flu-like symptoms and the pain in my lungs, but a good deal of tightness and the annoying cough remains. The doctor suspected a viral infection, so that puts be out of athletic action for at least a week or two; which means the Hillingdon GP is pretty much completely out of the question.

What this means is that my plans for the run up to the Smithfield Nocturne are quite thoroughly scuppered. I haven't worked out what I'll be doing in the time I have available, suffice to say that I'll be taking it very easy over the next few days to make sure I have no relapse and that I am at least healthy on the run up to the Smithfield.

Now, where did I leave those vitamins...

All those years ago...

My darling wife found this picture while unpacking after our move - and it has been on the dresser waiting to be scanned in since...


It was summer 1992 and I was still a Junior. I was completely nowhere and none the wiser. I dreamt of winning mountain top stages on a Bianchi crafted from Columbus SLX tubing. And Paulina Porizkova.

The race was the Milky Lane from Durban to Scottburgh - 60km and with a tail wind. As usual, my Dad was there to lend support and help with all the logistics. It was practically sprint race, especially with the usual tail wind. On this day, I'd done something terribly daft like leave my helmet or gloves at home. I can't remember how this got sorted, but my Dad probably went home to fetch them (after kakking me out) - I am eternally grateful.

The race was perfect, I felt brilliant. Ryan and I were both quick that day, sticking close to the front of the bunch. At the mid distance hotspot (was it 'Toti?), I tried to contest the sprint, but inexperience had me forced into the gutter.

Towards the end of the race, about 2 or 3 km out, one of the fast riders attacked, I managed to hop onto the break for what was one of the most thrilling finishes I've had.

As we came up the final hill, the group began to splinter. I've always been good at sharp climbs, and so I started picking off riders on the run in. I saw my Dad looking down the road, trying to find the best vantage point for a run in photo. By the time he'd realised I was in amongst the leading riders it was too late - the lens cap was still on.

The result was great, 9th overall, and if I recall correctly, 2nd Junior. Total race time? About 1 hour 10. Absolutely brilliant. What a day!

The Drugs Don't Work

A few days after writing my last post, I read that Davide Rebellin tested positive for using CERA at the Olympics - something that made me quite sad. I am tired of riders I enjoy being identified as cheats, the new order in cycling can't come soon enough.

Which leads to my drug taking; you'll be assured to know not of the performance enhancing genre. After the Reading race, the head cold came back with a vengence and then developed into a full blown, super nasty chest infection that has kept me largely out of action for the last two weeks.

To make matters worse out of desperation to get well quick, I succumbed to the doctor and a course of weak antibiotics that appear to have served to simply strengthen the offending infection making me worse rather than any better.

Having started down this route, I guess I have no choice but to ride it out to its conclusion. So back to the doctor (a different one) yielded a course of kick-ass antibiotics that should kick this infection into touch.

I'm not sure how this will affect my racing; I have an entry to the Hillingdon GP which I am loathe to let go to waste but, given that my goal is a good outing at the Smithfiled Nocturne, if I'm not substantially better by Monday, I'll have to consider if competing at Hillingdon makes sense.

There are a few other races in the calendar that I can use to warm up for Smithfield, so the situation isn't dire - just not as I'd hoped.