Mayhem: the longest day

After months of waiting we left Scarborough on 18th June to stay at Jackie’s mum’s in Much Wenlock. I realise now that I was switching into final 24-hour mode. We were a team: my job was to ride the bike for 24 hours, as many laps as possible, and Jackie and Matt had to do everything else! Simple really.

Friday morning and we bought and prepared an array of wonderful food to tempt me to eat and give me energy. (I’ve thrown most of it away.) Then we were off to Mountain Mayhem, arriving just after 2pm.

We set up camp in a beautiful field near a lake in the ‘quiet area’, just us and a family in a caravan. About four hours later you couldn’t see the field for tents. There were thousands camping. It really was amazing. Bikes ruled. Any car coming in on the dirt roads had to easy their way past the bikes, people, bikes, unicyclists, and more bikes!

I pretty much didn’t really do anything for the rest of the day. My team put up my tent, sorted out what I would eat, etc, etc.

I had a ride up to the main arena, chatted to some friends at trade stands and picked up my loan bike from ‘Giant Dave’. Jackie and I then rode the course. It was very, very hilly. Not really big hills, though ‘Kenda Climb’ was as steep as Wrench Green but shorter. There was one very nasty, loose steep sandy descent, but the rest was fairly easy singletrack. On yes, apart from the clay-mud root section, followed by the clay-mud river downhill, and the off-camber rooty sections that pretty much didn’t have any camber to ride on at all in parts!

Apart from the big downhill, I was very relaxed about the route but it was much harder than my route in Dalby and I knew my lap times would be slower.

The night before

When Jackie and I got back from the ride, ‘Team Bermuda Triangle’ had arrived. They were ‘Hackness’ Mike Watson, ‘Coach’ Mark Grange, ‘Little Hopper’ Steve, and Tom (who needs a nickname – Major Tom didn’t stick). They were being looked after by Tom’s dad, Steve.

They pitched up camp next to us. Little Hopper may have mentioned in passing that to park a good 10-15 minutes from the start line was not a good idea. He may also have said that to camp near a lake was asking to be eaten alive by midges. But he didn’t mention it that often!

They had the slowest gas heater ever invented. The arrival cup of tea was ready by the time we wanted a bedtime drink. They had about 400 plastic knives, forks and spoons but not enough cups. We also were one chair short. So it was musical chairs all night.

My team fed me and then I wandered off to see the main area and get more food as I was taking the carbo-loading very seriously by now. When I got back, the rest of my support team had arrived in the shape of Brendan, Clair and friend Dave. Poor Matt, who had been stuck by the tent since 2pm and had seen nothing of the main area, cheerfully got stuck in pitching another tent and sorting bikes etc. I went to bed leaving strict instructions not to be woken before nine!

Apart from people pitching tents by car light with the engine running, and a heavy downpour at 4am, I managed a good night’s sleep. Often we’re not as lucky.

We’re off!

Team leader Jackie cooked me porridge for breakfast. It was wonderful but I struggled to eat it. My stomach didn’t want food. The morning flew by. Team Debbie moved to the solo tent. About 20 other solos were there too, many without support. By the time we had unpacked everything and Jackie and I had sorted my clothes, food etc, it was time for the riders’ briefing.

Then suddenly it was 1.40 and Tom and I stood ready for the half-mile run to start the race. Our bikes were stood next to the start line. 2pm came and we were off. I did a truly dreadful run but it didn’t really matter. By the time I found my bike and started riding it was clear that riders would create bottlenecks fairly quickly.

On the first lap it was hard to stick to any plans of speed, heart rate etc. It was just a case of keeping going and setting through the bottlenecks. We had also been given the option of missing the sandy downhill for an easier, slightly longer descent, which in reality was far quicker anyway! The course was good, though the nighttime rain had created some slippery conditions in places.

For the first few laps I kept seeing the same three or four solo girls. We kept passing and re-passing each other, but I felt was going okay. I quickly settled into a routine: solo tent, refuel, and back out on the trail. Each section ticked off in my mind as I rode the course. ‘Kenda climb’ in my mind was the start of the second half, then the muddy section, climb out to the final bit, and stumble to the solo tent, to refuel and head off out again.

Into the darkness

Night soon came. I stopped seeing any other solo girls but ‘Team Debbie’ were checking the results for me. I was fifth, then fourth, then third! It was 3am and I was going strong. Maggie the rider for Ducati was first and a girl called Jo was second. I hadn’t seen either of them at all. I had expected to see Team Bermuda Triangle but apart from Mark passing me I didn’t see any of them until nearly the end as Tom flew by.

As I rode, I realised that solo riders were looked on as ‘specials’ by most of the other riders and people watching. They knew we were solos because we had an orange dot on our number plate. There was a constant stream of encouraging shouts from people watching. I started to look out for them and they became part of the lap: at the top of the first big hill, the screaming school girls; by the lake, the supporters of the teams with just gentle comments – ‘Well done, solo’ etc; the women on Kenda climb; the schoolboys who remembered my name; and the crazy bunch on the final descent who screamed like banshees every time I came by as I always waved. And then night came and they all went to bed!

Out on the track it was the other riders who took over encouraging you. Not all of them, and not much was said, just odd little comments. But I was made to feel special. They respected what I was trying to do and kept me going. One guy, he was wearing a Specialized top, just patted my back as he passed and softly said ‘Keep going, solo.’ I nearly broke down in tears.

Morning glory

Then it was dawn, then morning proper. The schoolgirls were back, the boys who knew my name, and the women on Kenda hill. All there again, all shouting out encouragement. The banshee screams never came back, which was a shame because for several hours I had quite simply loved these people!

At base camp I was looked after like a prize racehorse. They worked out my ETA so one of them was waiting for me outside the tent when I arrived, and would take my bike off me. Jackie stayed throughout the night, the others for most of it. The routine was simple. Camelbak off, I sat down and was offered food – I refused most of it but forced some down. Dave, Brendan or Matt cleaned my bike, changed tyres, lights, adjusted gears, whatever I asked. I would get a quick leg massage; Jackie would read out the text messages that were constantly coming through (thanks!). And then we checked and rechecked my position. Then I was off again. And again.

My sister arrived. I ate here picnic food. By now I was focused on being third. Did I need to keep riding or could I become a ‘lurker’? Basically if you pass the finish before 2pm you have to go out and do another lap. So people lurk in the tress until then!

I set out to ride lap 15. I knew I couldn’t catch Jo in second place, but Caroline (number 11) could in theory catch me. She was on her 13th lap. It was 11am. If she completed that and did another two laps in three hours, making 15 for her, and if she got through the finish before 2pm, then she could carry on and do lap 16 and beat me. So I could risk it and lurk or go on for a final lap. My team said they would let me know at the end of 15 if I needed to go out again.

As I set off I spotted rider number eight, Jo, in second place. I said hello and we chatted, and then I realised that her team had been spotting me and checking out if I could beat her – she was one lap ahead. If I tried to speed up and squeeze in an extra lap and if she was lurking, they thought I could beat her. I was stunned. It hadn’t occurred to me that she was checking me out. I told her my tactics: I was holding on for third. Yes, I could try to get an extra lap in by passing the finish just before 2pm but so would she, so it was pointless. We agreed: no more extra laps than necessary. We rode the ride together. God knows what her spotters out on the trail thought as we rode past together.

The last lap

Then we got to Jackie waiting near the end. Could Jo and I lurk, sit in the sun, and chat for an hour and a bit, without doing an extra lap, or did we have to go on? Jackie looked at me and said: ‘You have to go.’ Caroline had speeded up and done a 1 hour 9 minute lap! She could catch me. ‘Giant Dave’ had been consulted. His word was final: ride!

Now Jo had to work out what to do. I had 1 hour 10 minutes left. In theory I could do another lap, pass through under 24 hours, and then do another lap – my 17th – and beat her! None of that occurred to me at the time. I just had to go on for my third place. Her team sent her out and we were off together.

It turned out to be the best lap. Suddenly we were riding with another and then another solo girl. At one point there was six of us. We rode a section, regrouped, and chatted about the event. The supporters went wild to see us all together. Twenty-four hours ago I didn’t know these women, and even an hour ago I had never met them. Now we were a team: the solo girls! Four of us rode across the finish line together. It was over. Almost.

There was a tense 20-minute wait until the final results were confirmed. I was third, Jo second. Jackie and the team were as pleased as me: we had done it together. Without them – Jackie, Matt, Brendan, Clair, and Dave – it simple wouldn’t have worked.

Finally I saw Team Bermuda Triangle. They had done an amazing 26 laps, fighting off cramp, sleeplessness, and fatigue to get a great result. They had run like clockwork – always a rider ready to go out just when one finished. (Loads of teams simple didn’t get that sorted!)

I got onto the podium. I was third place in my first (yes, first) 24-hour race. I will definitely be back, although I would be surprised if I made third again. There are some amazing riders out there. But I can’t deny that coming third made it extra special. The whole event, from the months of training, Mark setting me out a training plan, seeing and feeling my fitness improve, taking part with thousands of like-minded lunatics… (Did I mention the unicyclists and the singlespeeders riding solo?)

All of it was great, but the best thing is that what comes out of it is the realisation of what wonderful friends I have, friends who have been prepared to give up their time to come to help me achieve this.

Thank you.

Debbie

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