Riding with really really fast people

After a brutally hard 150+km at the amstel gold on saturday, on a "road bike", I thought it would be a nice morning to go ride the local toertocht in Rillaar. It was close to Aarchot/Langdorp, and was heavily promoted, so the chance that there would be some ok riding was pretty high. And if that wasn't enough, trails were dry as a bone, the weather was pretty damn awesome, and I hadn't ridden on Belgian dirt for months. So I decided to take the Spooky cross bike out on its maiden dirt voyage.

However, when I showed up I saw Kim Saenen (top Belgian racer lady) and a bunch of other people with former national champion stripes on their sleeves. "Oh, really really fast people", I thought, "this might be fun." Famous last words.

Let us fast forward to the first food stop where, having lost a lung and a spleen along the trail somewhere, I decided that 72km of super-duper race pace was not for me, and took a shorter loop home. Yes, it was sprint-from-every-corner, sprint up the hills...bleed from your eyeballs kind of riding. Or it was for me, at least. Most of the people in our group were riding with one hand on the bar, talking to each other, and sipping a cappucino as they dragged me all over the Rillaar area.



Do not let this distract from the pretty awesome (for Belgium) trail riding! Sandwiched between Aarschot and Scherpenheuvel, this tocht had the potential to be either really awesome, or really terrible. Luckily, it was really awesome. Lots and lots of fun little singletrack bits. Better even than, dare I say, the Langdorp toertoch. Technical, fast, tricky, fun.


Anyway. The bike was awesome and it was good to get back on the dirt. Going to need to get me a geared mtb here pretty soon...

Is Wales a country??

When twenty-ten rolled around, I made a pledge to ride in 3 new countries this year. I'm not one for resolutions and all that, but I definitely want to ride more, and in new places. Meanwhile, I've been aching to ride in wales for years now, from before GG and I had our Scottish adventure. But you can already see the dilemma...does Wales count as a country?

Let's see. They have their own incomprehensible language (with far too many consonants, in my opinion). They have their own national sports teams in international competition. Flag? Check. National identity? Check. Is that close enough? Perhaps I should hold my decision until the end of the year.

This was waiting for me in Wales...


So finally the day had come. I had a free day and was in London. That meant I was going to Wales! About 2 hours from the sister's house in west London, I planned to make a day trip out of it. Wales, like Scotland, has a number of purpose-built riding centers just for mountain bikes!!! Pure genius. The original plan was to hit Afan, a center (or should I say, centre) just outside of Cardiff. An uber-epic 46km loop of single track was waiting for me. Unfortunately, those plans were derailed when the most absurd showing of traffic control ever played itself out, right in front of me. ONE TRUCK turns over. ONE TRUCK. The result? Full stop on the freeway, for all traffic. For two hours.

Now I'm sure there are those among you who are saying, just as I did, two hours? With the engine off? For one overturned truck? Didn't the British build one of the largest empires of all time, stretching to all corners of the globe? Didn't they invent a bunch of stuff like subways and little tea sandwiches? Haven't they produced the two biggest rock bands of all time? The answer to all these questions is yes. But somehow, the 21st century skill of traffic routing has evaded this quaint little island. It defies logic, is all that I can say, having experienced it first hand.

This was my view for 2 hours...


End result - new plans. 3 hours later, I passed the singly overturned truck, and headed to a closer riding center - CWMCARN. Now, I have no idea how to pronounce that, but that's not important. What's important was that it was TOTALLY AWESOME. I can say with confidence that it's the most fun I've had on a mountain bike since August, when I was in Oakridge with the boys. 15.5km of delicious singlerack. So so tasty.

It started with a nice opening gambit, a steep little stair-case track strewn with rocks. After some rolls, it settled into a fantastic and extremely technical singltrack climb right alongside a bubbling brook. Green moss and everything. I had just ridden a road bike for multiple hours the day before, but the goesting was high, weather was perfect, and I was so excited to be on fun trails.

At the top there was a pretty ok view, followed by a peeing-in-pants-inducing descent. Fast, fast, fast, bermed to the brim, and fun. Some choppy stuff as well - part of the fun in riding here was the different terrain, dominated by flat rocks in every shape and size. After some more climbing, more descending, hill traversing, more descending, and more climbing, the final descent brought me back to the parking lot. It was brilliant - a roller coaster line of very tacky soil and seemingly endless berms. Like Whistler for 5-inch bikes.

So yes. Wales basically rocks. English traffic people do not. But I will be back in Wales...there are heaps of trails waiting to be devoured.

The riding "centre" had a pretty nice little cafe and info area


I was rocking the Ibis. Perfect bike. That 160 fork in front was perfect going down.


Huh?


Trail info was comprehensive...


Which way?


Cute little welsh boars guided you along the way


If this doesn't make you horny for your mountain bike, you're hopeless


My silhouette in front of some welsh hills

More from Seattle - Black Diamond

It's shocking sometimes, when you log into your blog, to see when the last post was. March 26. It's been my intention to update twice a week, how did 3 weeks fly by? I hope I've been doing something constructive in that period...

Well, to be honest, there hasn't been a lot of mtbing going on. I've lost the goesting for the lumma loop. I need to go out and build some new features, because as is...it's a bit of a snooze fest. That said, I did do one other ride in Seattle (and rode in Wales this week, that's coming later).

So back when I was a kid...walking to school in the snow every day and all that...the majority of our mountain biking was done out at Victor Falls. Ah, Victor Falls, what sweet memories. Well south of Seattle, up on the ridge above Sumner and Orting, there was a huge forested region that really wasn't ok for bikes, but wasn't prohibited either. A seemingly endless network of criss-crossing trails, we could spend all day out there. Well, Victor Falls is mostly houses now, but the new place is just down the road from mom's house, in Black Diamond.

Yes, Black Diamond. Real America. But the riding is pretty damn good! A vast network of tasty singletrack has sprung up since I last lived in the US. I met Eric and Todd Graham out there (the day before I broke a rib in a stupid road race). Typical Eric was in race mode...but that was fine, it was good to giver' a little bit and burn the legs. And although I didn't know it, this was to be the last ride on the Belgian 29er...I'll miss you B29. We shared a lot together.

Friends. Superbe single track. Fantastic weather. What more do you want?

Eric was in "go" mode all day.


Todd had just finished a time trial on the road bike.


The last photo of the Belgian 29er shredding!!