Lazy Late Summer Days

It seems incredible that I’ve reached this point already, but my summer working season is finished! Instead of it being spread out with some holidays in between like last year, this year has been pretty much full-on since late May, and boy is my body telling me its ready for a rest.

Pushing up high in the Roya valley (photo: Ian Robertson)

Guiding for a full season is hard. Hard on your body, and mentally too…..being responsible for an excitable bunch of strangers let loose on steep, exposed, remote mountain terrain week after week is the most tiring part of the job. There are always a few who don’t know their limits, don’t respect the environment we’re in, or forget to leave their egos at home…those are the ones to whom accidents are waiting to happen, no matter how much you try and help them stay safe. Of course there’s always the unlucky few who aren’t like that at all, and are just unlucky….crashing is part of mountain biking, and most of us who’ve been doing it for long enough will at some point have had some big ones. My French skills have been tested pretty thoroughly this year, with quite a number of calls to the Pompiers (French mountain rescue/fire brigade/ambulance service all in one…).

Whenever someone has an accident, you question afterwards whether as a guide you could have done anything different….were the trails too difficult, was the speed too fast, were the right briefings at the trailhead given, did you do everything you could have done to make the ride as safe as possible? And then after the accident, did you stay calm, did you handle the situation well, did you do everything right, could you do anything better next time? I like to think I did OK, and the accidents that happened occurred despite me doing everything I could to avoid them…still, I’ve learnt things from all of the incidents to take away, and thankfully all those involved are OK.

My week of guiding in the central Alps on Ben Jones’ Morzine to Alpe d’Huez trip was fantastic. I was working with Chris, someone who I’d worked with on lots of TP weeks last year, and it’s always fun working with him.

Haute Savoie scenery!

Our group were a bunch of Norwegians and a couple from Britain, Fiona and John, who were all good riders, and up for an adventure….which was a good job given the weather on the first 2 days! Both Chris and I ended up doing a significant amount of blind guiding, having to change the planned itinerary because of storms and torrential rain. Both of us are pretty comfortable with this and have done a fair bit of it, but it can lead to some pretty stressful days, essentially taking guests into completely unknown terrain and hoping it’ll be fun and safe! We seemed to carry it off ok and found some great little tracks, although to be honest, when you are high up on an open slope, traversing under pylons and cables from ski lifts, and there is lightening jumping between clouds above you, and torrential hail bombarding you, any trail that gets you down and to shelter as quick as possible is a good one!

John ignoring the big drop to the left whilst shredding down another great trail.

Fortunately the weather improved the rest of the week, and we got to show the lucky guests the awesome trails we’d discovered whilst recce-ing. There were big smiles all round and comments of how some of the riding was the best they’d ever done from some of the group….I can’t wait to guide this trip again next summer!

Lars admiring the view to Les Deux Alpes before riding the beautiful singletrack balcony trail shown.

The following week I spent in Orpierrie, a pretty little village in Haute Provence, that is surrounded by huge crags, and is one of my favourite places to sport-climb in France. I spent many long summers climbing here with Gareth and friends when I was a student, and the place is full of happy memories of long summer days, climbing hard routes, but also sunbathing, swimming, chilling out on the campsite drinking coffee and playing on slacklines. It’s a sleepy little place, quiet, beautiful, and it automatically makes me feel calm and relaxed here.

Le Quiquillon, standing guard above Orpierre

I managed to persuade good friends Jo and Simon and their awesome kids Ellie and Jessie (aka Team Chaos) to spend a week of their summer holidays here this year, and together with another climbing friend Jonny, we rented a beautiful little gite on the edge of the village. The week was a perfect break from guiding…lots of climbing, swimming and sunbathing, a moonlit bbq and night time swim at the reservoir, sitting out at night after good meals, stargazing and drinking too much red wine, getting tunes from High School Musical stuck in our heads all day after listening to Ellie and Jessie singing them non-stop (don’t ask…I’m still singing them now!). A good time was had by all, and although like anywhere I go that has memories of time spent with Gareth, there were moments where I felt huge waves of sadness that he couldn’t be there with us, or I’d have flashbacks of him climbing certain routes, or particular memories that reminded me of incidents or moments from past trips, I know it’s somewhere I’ll always feel his presence really strongly because of all those happy memories. It was somewhere that was a special place to both of us, and I know he’d have been really pleased that I could share it with other friends, and that they loved it too. Despite not having climbed much at all this year, or last, I must somehow have channelled Gareth’s strength and skill too, as I managed to drag myself up some routes that I wouldn’t have thought I was climbing well-enough to get up!

Orpierre seen from near the top of the Quiquillon

It was straight back to Sospel after this trip, and another 2 fun weeks of guiding. Great guests, including friends Dan, Jim, Chloe and Andy, who helped me with some much needed bike maintenance that would have taken me weeks to try and do alone, more good trails, and plenty of laughter and good times meant the weeks flew by.

Jazz Hands! (Except Dan and Martin, who were obviously far too cool for that!)

Dan shralping round a switchback above Tende

Having managed to convince Jonny he wanted a return trip to Orpierre, once the guiding finished it was back to climbing for 2 weeks there. It was great to spend a bit more time climbing again, feeling more confident and comfortable on the rock, enjoying the sensation of moving freely and pushing yourself to climb steeper or more technical routes. Although nowhere near the level I used to climb when I was doing it regularly, I still love it, no matter what level of routes I’m climbing. It’s hard to describe, but it just feels natural to look at a rock face, pick out features and want to climb up. The engaging nature of climbing, where you are totally absorbed in what you are doing, the problem-solving needed to figure out a way to move your body smoothly and efficiently using the holds available, the sensation you get when you accomplish that and perform a move well, as well as the being outside, in a beautiful, quiet place, watching swifts diving round the top of the crag, hearing the church clock in the village chime each hour, with the temperature of the sun, the daylight hours available, and the fatigue in your arms being the only limits to how long you climb for. You can’t beat it.

The striking line of Le Traversee des Ammonites

We spent time at other crags too, Sisteron, where I climbed a brilliant route with no holds, just a thin seam of fossils to tiptoe along a rising diagonal traverse, and Ceuse, one of the most impressive looking bits of rock in a country full of impressive rocks!

Ceuse seen in the evening light from the bottom of the walk-in.

Ceuse sits high at over 1500m, an imposing crag of immaculate rock, with some of the most famous, and intimidating looking climbs in the world. Famous for hard routes, spaced bolting meaning scary run-outs, and routes that are hard for their grade, and one of the longest walk-ins for a sport crag anywhere! It’s a seriously impressive and beautiful place though, with incredible views, and great climbing, and if you treat the walk in as you would for a big day out on a mountain or alpine crag, it’s really not too bad (though I wouldn’t want to do it every day for longer trips.)

Jonny looks up at the impressive line of 'Realization' 9a+

So now I’m back in Sospel, with less than a week to the start of the TP race…eek! After hearing from Ash’s partner Melissa that everyone will HATE Ash by midway through day 2, I am even more nervous than I was before! However, I’ve done lots of tough things before, and know that I’m fit enough for the challenge, and also pretty good mentally at just putting my head down and getting on with it when the going gets tough…often what is required on events like this! To be honest, it’s not the overall physicality of the event that frightens me, it’s the racing down trails that although I know I can ride perfectly well, racing down them and getting to the bottom in one piece is a completely different matter!

Looking forward to discovering new trails in beautiful places during the TP race...

And hopefully still smiling as much as this at the bottom of each trail!

I’m also really excited though, about riding with a fun group of people, meeting more friends, pushing myself, seeing old friends from last year…. My bike has been rejuvenated with new forks, shock and bearings, and wheels….thanks to much help from Dan, Andy, Jim and Chloe, without whom I would still be trying to sort all of the above! So now it’s just a matter of waiting for the race to start!

Rejuvenated bike ready to race!

It’s a really pretty time of year in the south of France…with the feel of summer, as the sun beats down each day and you have to seek shade in the middle of the day, or an afternoon swim in the river to cool off, yet the leaves changing colour and falling from the trees like its autumn. Blackberries and figs ripe in the hedgerows, the grass scorched with an end of summer look to it, and the crunch of dry leaves under your tyres on the trails. It’s still light until 8 in the evening too and the nights are not yet cold. I like this late summer time, which we often seem to miss in Britain, where summer turns quickly to autumn and cooler, wetter temperatures and shorter days. I’m soaking up as much sunshine as possible, ready for a return to the UK in a couple of weeks!

Late summer evening sunshine

I was starting to get nervous a few weeks ago, about not having winter plans sorted….but then I reminded myself that sometimes it’s best not to have a plan….and since then some exciting opportunities have arisen! More on those in time, but it’s safe to say I’ll be collecting a few more airmiles this winter as I journey to new places and new adventures!

Right, time to do some more relaxing and resting up ready for the race, wish me luck!!

The Best Job in the World!

Crikey…it’s been ages since I wrote a blog, or even had time to sit down and think about writing! The summer guiding season has been in full swing here, and whilst I know a large proportion of my friends and family probably think my job is just a bit of bike riding followed by lots of time sitting round in the sun, I can promise you it’s not!

Since the start of June it’s been all go, with no days off. Trans-Provence guided weeks, straight into a whistle-stop trip up to the Northern Alps for a recon trip, and then straight into the start of the new “Enduro fusion trip”. Today I'm on my way up to guide a Morzine to Alpe d’Huez trip, followed by my sole week off this summer, and then back into more EFT guiding!

Crazy trails on the Morzine to Alpe d' Huez trip! (Photo: Ben Jones)

A day in my life whilst in TP guiding mode goes something like this…

Up at 6 -6.30a.m, pack bags and start loading into the van and putting bikes onto the trailer. Wolf down a quick breakfast, check guests have got all they need for the day and returned hotel keys etc, drive guests up to drop-off point. Either guide all morning, or drive the van round to the meet up point (usually a couple of hours drive) stopping on the way to buy food for a buffet-style lunch, then set up ready for guests to arrive. Either guide all afternoon, or drive the van on shuttles, and eventually to hotel. Unload bags, sort out room allocations, help guests with bike mechanical issues, quick shower, eat dinner, brief guests on the following day, collapse into bed usually about 10.30-11pm, sleep deeply, wake up and repeat…. Throw in a couple of 4.30am get-ups on a Saturday for airport transfers as well and it’s no surprise I have little problem sleeping during the summer! There’s usually about an hour to grab a coffee on a Saturday at the airport between dropping one group of guests off and picking up the next, but that is literally the only time to “chill” all week.

Above Tende with the first group of EFT guests

Despite all this, I have no complaints and I honestly believe that I have the best job in the World. The long and busy days, constant fatigue, responsibility for safety and wellbeing of guests, necessity to be cheerful and chatty and fun every minute of the day, and lack of any time to yourself….they’re nothing compared to having to sit inside an office all day and count down the hours until home-time!

It's not always sunny but it's always fun on TP weeks!

This year’s TP trips passed by in a flash. Good guests, fun trails, no major injuries….

Unfortunately I had a slight disagreement with a barely visible, thin metal fence post at the side of the trail, that I managed to clip on a descent with my little finger. One minute I was cruising down the trail, the next I was stopped dead, wincing with the most intense pain in my finger and hand wondering what had suddenly happened. I hadn’t seen it at all. Fortunately it was at the end of the day and near the bottom of the last trail, so I was able to roll down to the van before the pain became too much to hold on. Convincing myself I’d just sprained the ligaments between the bones in my hand, I dosed myself up with strong anti-inflammatories, taped it up, grabbed ice-packs for it whenever I could, and carried on guiding the rest of the week. When 2 weeks later, it was looking no better, and as soon as I stopped taking strong painkillers I was in agony, I began to think that it might be broken. The problem is, finding somewhere to get an x-ray in rural France when you’re in a different village each night and the days are so busy and full is pretty much impossible. It wasn’t bad enough to warrant not working, so I chose the “ignore it and it’ll go away approach”. Anyway, four weeks on, I can ride without taping it or taking painkillers, and have near-enough full movement…but as the swelling as gone down, I still have enough residual physio palpation skills to know exactly what an x-ray would show me…

Enduro Fusion Tour guests on the hike up to Big Dog Zone

Anyway, I decided to make this summer even more busy for myself by taking on a couple of weeks extra work for Ben, a guy who was working for Ash on the TP last summer, who has now set up his own company running similar style adventure biking trips in the Northern Alps (www.benjonesmtb.com) So in between the TP guided weeks finishing, and the EFT starting, I dragged myself out of bed at the start of my “week off” at 4am to go and catch a flight up to Geneva to help Ben and Chris do some final trail-reconnaissance for the MAD (Morzine-Alpe d’Huez) trip I’d be guiding in August. By early afternoon, I was out on the hills of the Haute Savoie, riding with Ben and Rich. Well, riding may not be the correct word…I was actually fighting my way through a section of jungle (to call it a trail would just be lying) in the pouring rain, wondering why I’d left behind the sunny south, and thinking that this didn’t really resemble the “ribbons of endless singletrack through Alpine meadows” that Ben had used to tempt me into coming along…!

Rich carrying up a section that even HE couldn't ride!

Ben and Chris in full trail-scouting mode

We eventually battled our way out, decided that trail was not a “keeper” for the trip, and went in search of better things. We found them thankfully, and despite Rich and Ben insisting on throwing themselves off their bikes on steep wet slippery hillsides, we managed to roll down just before it got dark, to a van full of dry kit, pizza, and whiskey!

The rest of the week was great. Long days out exploring new trails in incredible places. A LOT of walking, pushing and carrying, but also some of the most mind-blowingly good riding I’ve ever done. And also some of the most insane! Rich kept us entertained with his insistence on trying to ride absolutely everything, even when there was no way it could end well, and Chris‘s demonic grin when he noticed there was a trail marked on the map descending a sheer vertical  cliff that we could ride is still giving me nightmares.

We did find those ribbons of singletrack that Ben promised in the end! (Photo: Ben Jones)

Lots of them!

On the second day of the trip, it was the 13^th July, Gareth’s birthday….And we ended up on a suitably epic adventure that Gareth himself would have been proud of. Never before have I had to kick steps into and up a near vertical mud slope, whilst trying to lift a bike above me, to get out of a totally impenetrable forest. Not just a few trees to walk around and over and under, I mean fully impenetrable….even just walking through without a bike would have been virtually impossible. It took probably an hour to cover a few hundred meters! We had some of the gnarliest rocky trails I’ve ever taken a bike on, via ferrata down the side of a waterfall (quite scary when carrying a bike), steep narrow trails that were overgrown and hiding slippery sniper rocks to throw you off at any second, and to finish, a super exposed section along a cliff edge on which Rich discovered that the sticky rubber on Five10 shoes doesn’t help you grip on wet clay….. It wasn’t the best day’s riding I’ve ever had and we won’t be using most of the trails on the trip, but it was certainly an adventure I won’t forget for a long time, and it was  fitting that it was on a day when I was thinking of Gareth a lot, just his kind of epic adventure! 

Chris and I on an incredible long, flowing descent above La Grave (Photo: Ben Jones)

The second half of the week saw us riding unbelievably good trails with stunning backdrops of snow-covered mountains and glaciers, and I can’t wait to guide the full trip this week!

Ben shredding down a sublime section of high Alpine singletrack

It was straight back to Nice at the end of that week for the first Enduro Fusion Tour trip. For these trips we’re based in one hotel, riding the dozens of trails in the surrounding area. There is less climbing than on a TransProvence trip and more use of the van to shuttle up for long descents. Of course there’s still a bit of pushing and carrying to get to the very best trails, and the descents are long and technical and physically demanding, but a LOT of fun :)

Ash dropping in at the top of another great descent at the top end of the Roya Valley

For me it’s really nice to be in one place. I have my own Scandinavian style little log cabin up above the Auberge where the guests stay. It’s my own space, peaceful and quiet, and gives me chance to feel like I’ve got a break from work as I’m not there with the guests in the same hotel  and feeling like I’m working 24 hours a day.

Sarah and Alan riding up past the old military buildings on the Col de Tende during an EFT week

The Auberge, and my cabin, sit alone, high on a Col above the towns of Sospel and Breil sur Roya and so there is very little light or noise at night. Every night, I walk back up after dinner, gazing up at the millions of stars, with dozens of fireflies lighting the way, and the distant view of the silhouettes of mountains all around. It’s very “me”. Quiet, beautiful, and a place to make me stop and appreciate how lucky I am to be there. I wake up each morning as daylight breaks through the chalet windows, and the early morning light and mist in the valleys below gives the surrounding mountains a magical feel.

View from my front door!

There are moments this summer, for the first time since I lost Gareth, when I haven’t felt the same kind of loneliness that I have until now. I’m so busy and surrounded by people all the time that there isn’t a lot of time to feel “alone” in the same way that I did before. Maybe it’s the quiet, beautiful place I come back to each evening, and the time I have to sit and think whilst gazing at the incredible view from my front door, but I feel like he’s close by all the time, and that gives me a sense of peace and an inner strength and self-confidence in myself again that has taken a long time to find since I lost him. There are many many times when I long for his companionship, to be there on those quiet evenings, just in each other’s presence, sharing the view and the chance to be in such a special place together, and to feel that security and  feeling of being safe and protected that I had from him. I guess that’s something I didn’t even realise I felt until it was gone. But there are times now, even if I’m feeling alone and missing him, that I know he is somewhere close, that he is part of me, he’s everywhere I go and in everything I do, and that gives me the strength and courage to know that I can continue to keep slowly building this new life I’ve been making for myself. When I have moments where I’m doubting myself and anxious about what the future will bring, even though he’s physically not there, I know I will always feel his love and support encouraging me on…

Looking out over the mountains above La Grave

My beautiful Juliana Roubion is standing up well to everything I can throw at it, and is a complete joy to ride every day. I’m riding more difficult trails and sections of trail than I would have felt comfortable on last year, and riding them smoother and faster thanks to how confidence-inspiring the bike feels. I feel very lucky to have the support of such a great company behind me, and hope that as an Ambassador for Juliana Bicycles, through the guiding and racing I’m doing and the people I meet, that I can inspire other girls and women to get out and ride and have more adventures on their bikes, especially now companies like Santa Cruz/Juliana are recognising there are a lot of female shredders who want awesome bikes, and producing them for us! I’m proud and very excited to have my own little profile page on the new Juliana Bicycles website…check it out here! (http://www.julianabicycles.com/en/uk/rider/julia-hobson)

My Roubion and Chris atop another Col during our recce week

The invisiframe that Lee put on my bike when I first got it has also been Amazing, and despite 6 months of constant daily abuse on rough terrain, numerous big crashes and rock hits, loading on and off various trailers, and a few flights, it has protected the frame so well that it looks almost as shiny and new as when I first got it! I will definitely be using it on any bikes I ever have in the future, and can’t recommend it highly enough, especially to anyone with a bling carbon frame! (www.invisiframe.co.uk)

Well, that’s all until the next chance I find to write! Ciao for now !

L' Ete en France

It’s been a non-stop few weeks since I started work back in France, and this is the first time I’ve actually had a day to stop and even open up the computer to start typing!

Old ruins, springtime flowers, and one of my favourite Trans-Provence trails

First up was a Press week for Juliana Bicycles ahead of the launch of the Roubion, the bike I’ve been riding since Chile. Female journalists from around the world, Juliana brand manager Katie Zaffke, Ambassadors Anka Martin, Kathy Pruitt and myself, as well as Photographers Sven Martin and Gary Perkin, and of course Mr Trans Provence, Ash Smith who organised the week, all gathered near Roubion for a few days of riding the beautiful new bikes, on classic Trans Provence terrain. J

Kathy, me and Anka with some very pretty bikes ;) Photo: Sven Martin

These bikes can even tow chariots don't ya know?! Photo: Gary Perkin

Anka, Kathy and I shredding Grey Earth gullies Photo: Sven Martin

Riding above Roubion Photo: Sven Martin

Beautiful new Roubions on an alpine hillside

It was a fantastic week of shredding the trails with a great bunch of girls. Awesome riding, delicious food in lovely hotels, lots of red wine fuelled games during the evening, and a good time had by all. The week captured a little glimpse of what the spirit of the Juliana brand is all about. Encouraging fun adventures on great bikes in incredible places, with awesome people. I think everyone went away with the same impression I’ve had of the bike…that it is totally rad and such good fun to ride.

Roubion Bike Park

Of course there was always going to be one of the days during that week that felt harder than the others. Thursday May the 22^nd, what would have been mine and Gareth’s 4^th Wedding Anniversary. I felt pretty close to tears at the slightest thing all day if I’m honest, but somehow kept busy enough to hold them at bay for most of the day, guiding the group down the trails into Roubion village, chatting to everyone about bikes and the good food we enjoyed in the restaurant, amongst other things.

Riding down into Roubion on my Roubion!

As places to spend a wedding anniversary go, it was beautiful, but without Gareth, it could only feel empty and remind me of how much I missed him and wished he was there with me. In the afternoon, a huuuuge storm erupted above us, thunder and lightning echoing around as we rode down an increasingly slippery trail, with rain falling so heavily we were drenched completely. It was one of those times where if the rain had been like that when you set off, you would never have gone out, but once in it, the ridiculousness of how heavy it was had us all giggling with how crazy it was to be out in such weather. On reaching the bottom we learned that there’d been a landslide that had blocked the road, meaning the second group had had to turn back before even getting to the start of the trail, and we had a long diversion via another road to get back to the hotel. The day had turned into the kind of adventure that Gareth would definitely have approved of, and I couldn’t help but be cheered by that thought. Still, it felt very strange to be having fun but not in the way I ever would have expected, and without Gareth, the only other person to whom that day was so significant.

Photos of an amazingly happy day...

At the end of the Juliana week, it was straight into two weeks TP guiding. The first was definitely a shock to the system, as I did all the guiding that week due to Mary the other guide being new and never having ridden the trails. Thankfully, despite feeling quite unfit, my level of fitness was high enough that I at least was suffering less than the guests, and could still remain full of encouragement and cheerfulness when they needed a bit of motivation! J It has been so good to be back on these trails, I never get tired of them, and despite the job being physically exhausting, there is never really a bad day. When your office looks as amazing as this how could there be?! The last few weeks have just reminded me that I do indeed have the best job in the World.

Fernando from Columbia enjoying "Wild Wednesday" on the Trans-Provence guided week

We were unlucky enough to get drenched in thunderstorms every afternoon during the week, and one morning took twice as long as usual due to the large amount of snow we had to carry our bikes across, kicking steps across steep snow fields. It definitely felt more like mountaineering than riding! All part of the adventure though and the guests loved it.

Lenny from Singapore negotiating one of many snowfields en route!

The second week the sun shone brightly for us and the snow had almost all melted on the trails. I could feel my bike fitness coming back, and it was great that on my new bike I felt I could ride more smoothly and confidently through sections I’d found tricky last year.

In guiding mode high above the Vesubie valley

Straight after finishing the first 3 weeks of work, I headed to Roubion (with my Juliana Roubion!) to race in an enduro. There were a few faces I knew from guiding and other races and also some of the Roubion bike park staff who’d helped out at the Juliana week. Lots of people commented, “Oh you’re riding a Roubion!” which was awesome. This tiny village and the people in it are super proud that a bike is named after the special place they live…it felt great to take my bike to race there.

It was, like most French races, a crazy but brilliant affair. Three special stages, groups of 10 starting together, no pre-practice, a chairlift ride and short pushes for liasons, and straight into some hard riding!

The first stage was the longest, hardest stage I’ve ever done in an enduro race! It started with a steep uphill grass slope to spread us out. I pushed hard, knowing I needed to be near the front going into the singletrack as there would be few places to pass people, and managed to settle in behind the back wheel of Nadine Sapin (3 time winner of the TransVesubienne, uber-fit, seems to float effortlessly uphills…). We were quite a bit ahead of the other girls as we headed down into some swoopy grassy turns, before the trail narrowed to tight singletrack. Despite shouting, Nadine would not let me past, and it was too narrow to try and overtake, which unfortunately meant we were moving slower than I wanted to. She would gain a few metres on me on the climbs, before I gained them back on the descents. As the trail got steeper and more technical I began to get frustrated at not being able to go faster, got too close behind her as she stalled in the bottom of a compression, and then having lost all my speed, had to get off and run up the short climb. By now another girl Mary had caught us up, and as I was getting back on she came past me, then promptly crashed in front of me, blocking the whole trail! We lost sight of Nadine at that point, and yet again I found myself stuck behind someone I wanted to ride faster than who wouldn’t let me past! I was missing the normal style of Enduro races where everyone starts separately at minute intervals!  

I finally overtook her on a long climbing section, my heart pounding and lungs burning with the effort, trying to make up some of the ground we’d lost on Nadine. By this point we’d been going for 15 minutes, and I was so tired that I missed a tight corner and rode straight on into a field! In the time it took to get back up, Mary passed me, then crashed again on the next corner! I tried to take a very steep tight inside line on the switchback to ride past her, but it didn’t work and I crashed hard, landing heavily on my hip and shoulder. I was so far into race mode though that it didn’t really hurt, at least not at that moment!

Unfortunately I was stuck behind Mary the rest of the way down, with nowhere to pass and me not feeling assertive enough to try and overtake in case I just crashed in doing so again. As we neared the bottom of the gorge we had been riding along the side of, Nadine was in sight, but then the last section was a slippery, slime covered wooden plank across a stream that you had to carry your bike over so the gap between us opened up a bit. In the end Nadine was 18 seconds ahead of Mary, and I was 6 seconds behind her, after 39 minutes of racing!! My hands were hurting from braking so much on the steep descent, my brain was frazzled from the concentration required to negotiate the steep technical, loose switchbacks, and stay focused on the narrow trail where a sheer drop of several hundred metres down to the ravine below lurked, and I couldn’t talk I was so exhausted….all I could do was collapse on the ground beside my bike whilst I tried to recover…It was an amazing, scary and super hard trail to race down!

From there we were shuttled up in a coach to the base of the chairlift again, before taking this and then another short push to the start of the next stage. I sat in the sun with a beautiful view over alpine meadows to the snow covered mountains in the distance, talking in French to some of the other girls, and trying to relax before it was time to switch into race-mode again. It was peaceful, calm and very hot, and to be honest I could quite happily have just forgotten about racing for the rest of the day and stayed up there for a snooze!

The news began to filter through that someone had fallen on stage 1 and we were going to be a bit delayed, and shortly afterwards a helicopter flew over in the direction of where stage 1 had been….never a good sign.  In the end we waited for 3 hours, lying in the sun, enjoying the view, and feeling less and less like racing again, but as stage 3 was now cancelled, it was going to be all or nothing on stage 2.

This time it was flat from the start, then into wide open grassy turns down across a big field before entering the tight twisty singletrack. I’m not great at powering off the line, and with no hill to slow the others down this time I was worried I was going to get stuck at the back and frustrated again. However, I managed to get into 3^rd place going into the first corner, then took a tight inside line on the next two, overtaking until I was in the lead. Once there I sprinted hard down the open grassy slope, pedalling like mad, and a quick glance behind showed I’d opened up a gap, exactly where I wanted to be so I wasn’t stuck behind anyone in the switchbacks. I got to the first switchback to the left and tried to put in a pedal stroke to get my right foot down for the turn…but the pedals wouldn’t turn. To my absolute dismay I looked down and saw the chain had come off and was twisted into a huge mess…presumably on the last bumpy section before the corner…merde. I decided I had to keep going as everyone would catch me if I stopped to fix it, and started praying it was downhill all the way. Two switchbacks later I was down….having to keep my feet flat in the same position meant on tight left corners my inside foot and pedal was hitting the inside corner and knocking me over, and they were such tight turns that taking a wider line wasn’t an option. Mary and Nadine came past me and there was nothing I could do…and then near the bottom there was a flat rubbly section that you needed to pedal through, great. I got off and ran, soon being passed by another girl, and ended up running for the last 3-4 minutes which was flat and uphill across the line. It’s the only time I’ve ever had a mechanical in a race so I guess my luck had to change sometime, and I’d been convinced it was impossible to drop a chain with an XX1 drivetrain…so I suppose it taught me a valuable lesson.  It meant I’d stay in third overall which I was a bit gutted about after it had been going so well at the top and I’d got myself into the best possible position to do well.

Still, it was only a race, and I’d entered it for a bit of fun, to meet people, ride great trails, and share the race atmosphere, and those boxes had definitely all been ticked! It was a great feeling to be on the podium, where I received a big basket of fruit and local foods, and experienced the scariest bit of the whole day, when I was interviewed on the podium in French! I managed to say something which I think made sense, at least everyone clapped politely anyway and liked my accent!

Big smiles after a fun day on the bike

It’s hard to imagine anyone could not have had a good day when mine had seemed so happy and fun, but on Monday morning, when checking the results and split times online, some incredibly sad news came through. The racer who had fallen on stage 1 had died of his injuries the previous evening in hospital. Suddenly the bright sunny day that we’d had seemed very different. The trails that we raced on were steep, technical and dangerous, with plenty of sections where a crash could see you falling into the canyon below…that’s part of racing and what made them so exciting and exhilarating, but in this case, that appears to be what happened, with tragic consequences.

The very nature of accidents is that they are unpredictable and unexpected, there is no way the rider or his family or friends could have known when they awoke that sunny morning, that life was going to change in a way they could never have imagined…That's what makes them so hard to understand.  The sad news inevitably brought back memories that are seared into my mind forever.

I felt deflated and sad all that day. I cried a lot. For Gareth, and for Christophe, the rider who died in the race, and his family. Remembering the terror and fear I experienced on the day of Gareth’s accident, hoping and praying that he would be ok, and knowing what Christophe’s  family and loved ones would have been feeling as they watched their son being taken to hospital in the helicopter. The long anxious hours of waiting, the uncertainty, the helplessness you feel at being unable to do anything, the disbelief that what has started out as a day like any other, could have turned into a day you hoped you would never have to experience. The feeling that time has been suspended and you’ve been removed from the real world, caring only what happens to the person you love, the sensation that what is happening isn’t real. I can imagine what that family are feeling now, and know that there are no words that will take away their pain or console them. Life has changed forever for them.

Time does not heal as so many people tell you. It doesn’t make things easier or take away the pain, it simply gives you chance to slowly learn how to manage it. It will always be part of you, you just have to figure out how to live with it, and try to use it in a way that is positive, that honours the memory of the person you have lost....I'm still figuring that out, and I hope in time the family of Christophe can come to do that, but there are sure to be many hard months ahead, and my thoughts go out to them. As for Christophe, I hope, like Gareth, that he is riding free somewhere, on an endless ribbon of amazing singletrack, through the most staggering scenery it’s possible to imagine…

This week I’m taking a break from the bike, it’s had some much needed attention given to it in the form of fork and shock servicing and brake bleeding, and is taking a little rest before the next guiding stint starts! In the meantime, my Mum and Dad are here visiting, and it’s been really lovely to show them some of the places I’ve been talking about since I first started working here last spring. Despite spending lots of time in Winter in the Alps, due to work on the farm being too busy in the summer, this is the first time they’ve been able to come walking in the alps in the summer, and it hasn’t taken them long to see why I love it here so much...

Among the Alpine flowers by Lac des Millefonds

Group selfie high above Valdeblore

Dad enjoying the view above the Tinee valley

It’s been really nice for me too, to get up a bit higher than we do on the Trans Provence route, and walk some new trails with different views. You notice different things when you are walking than on the bike too, and as my mum absolutely adores the alpine flowers which are covering the meadows like blankets at this time of year, I’ve noticed them more than ever and even learnt a few of their names thanks to her too. So far we've avoided the afternoon thunderstorms each day, managing to finish just before they start...fingers crossed we stay as lucky the rest of the week! But if not it'll all be part of the adventure ;) Ciao for now!

Uh oh...storm on it's way!

Racing in France in the Bluegrass Enduro Tour

Ever since getting back from Chile, I’ve been feeling really motivated for racing. I guess I can’t deny that I’m a quietly competitive person, always have been…from being determined to be Primary school sports day champion, wanting to play in every school team, swimming competitively until I was 18, taking up adventure racing, and more recently all sorts of bike races. And even though I only dabble in races every now and then, when I find a good one, it reminds me what I love about it.

It’s not just the feeling of pushing yourself as hard as you can, it’s the whole atmosphere, from the pre-race nerves, start-line anxieties and worries that everyone is better and faster than you, the thrill of racing at your limit, the relief at finishing, the post-race adrenalin-fuelled chatter and friendships made while struggling up a hill together, or celebrating with fellow competitors at surviving another stage, or in the queue for the bike wash or tea van. It’s the satisfying feeling of exhaustion at the end of the day, and the sense of achievement no matter whether you’ve won or just finished, and many more things as well. I don’t think it matters what level you race at, those elements are still present, and what make racing special and different from just going out for a leisurely ride with friends.

When you throw in the fact that you are racing blind, ie on tracks you’ve never ridden before, then those start line emotions are quadrupled as you wait nervously for your turn, with no idea whether you’ll be able to ride what’s ahead, and the relief at surviving each stage is enormous.  There’s an even greater sense of camaraderie through the shared experience, the tougher the race, the more you feel a bond with your fellow competitors! For me as well, it’s good to race every so often, as when you work as a guide, yes you ride a lot, but you get used to riding well within your comfort zone and never pushing yourself…you have a responsibility for looking after a group of guests and can’t afford to be the one falling off all the time! You can then get pretty stuck at only riding at guiding speed so doing a race every once in a while reminds you what the thrill of riding at your limit feels like! However, I was a little bit conscious of the fact that I was about to start a summer of guiding, and falling off and hurting myself in a race before the season even started would not be good! Then again, those kind of injuries can happen anytime you’re out riding, not just in races, so there’s no point not racing for fear of what could happen!

I’d raced up in Scotland in the first round of the Scottish enduro series the weekend I got back from Chile, and whilst it was a fun weekend riding with friends in the rain, it just felt like a bit of an anticlimax after Chile. Now don’t get me wrong, I LOVE Scotland and the riding there, and No-Fuss are one of the best events organisers out there, but the race just didn’t get me excited. I know everyone has a different idea of what “Enduro racing” is, but I realised that weekend that events at Trail Centres aren’t mine! So I decided to look for some events that sounded a bit different. Which was when I came across the Bluegrass Enduro Tour. A series of events around Europe that are one day, blind racing Enduro events. A quick look at some videos from previous events, and I was sold on giving one a go.

It just so happened that there was an event in the Alsace region of France, at a place called Rombach-le-franc, in the week before I needed to be down in the South of France to start guiding for the summer again. Perfect! I knew nothing about the area, but had heard good things from people I knew who’d raced there before, and as much as anything, one of the great things about racing is the new places it takes you and the new people you meet. The race looked much more like what I’d been searching for, 5 special stages of varied riding, linked by some tough climbs on the liaisons, testing fitness, nerve, and skill. Plus, in my experience, races in France are crazy….there are no sanitized trails, they will happily send thousands of competitors down steep mountainsides on tiny goat tracks that would never be included in UK races for health and safety reasons!

Now I didn’t have the best start to the race, as 2 days before, I spent the night on the bathroom floor with the worst stomach bug I’ve had since being in Morrocco…not nice. Fortunately after starving myself, and sleeping 14 hours on the ferry to Zeebrugge, I felt much better the next day, just weak! I was still feeling a bit unsure about racing, but I don’t get chance to do loads of races as they are mostly on when I’m busy in the summer, so I didn’t want to miss this one!

Ready to go...

The day started warm and sunny, and it was great to catch up with familiar faces from Chile and the Trans Provence, and practice my French by chatting to some of the other girls who were riding. There were only 16 of us, and about 300 guys, so we were definitely in the minority, but worryingly, all of them seemed to have done way more enduro racing than me…

The first climb took us up a long way, and within minutes my legs felt empty and devoid of any strength or energy…it was going to be a long day. I guess I’d underestimated how much 2 days of not eating would affect me. Fortunately the climbs were untimed so I put my head down, and settled into my own very slow rhythm. When I finally got to the start of the 1^st special stage, I was really lightheaded, and feeling pretty nervous about the descent, knowing I was tired and likely to make mistakes, yet also knowing that once the timing chip beeped at the start, I wouldn’t be able to make myself hold back and ride sensibly!

The stage started with some technical rocky sections, soon morphing into steep loamy corners that were super tight and filled with gnarly off-camber roots. The trail was narrow and twisty and really slippery, and my inside foot was out in lots of the corners in preparation for the back end skidding out on the roots! I got about half way down before I clipped the end of my handlebar on a tree coming out of a tight corner, spinning the bars round and going head first into a rotten tree stump…thank goodness for full-face helmets! I was annoyed with myself for making the mistake and worse, I lost a lot of time having to straighten my bars, but at least I’d gotten down in one piece. One down, four to go…

How it should be ridden! (Image courtesy of enduro-mtb.com)

Another long climb followed, which even despite shoving down a banana, some haribo and a gel, felt way harder than it should have done. Stage 2 was really good though and soon made me forget my fatigue and nausea…tight switchbacks which you had to take the steep inside line or end up not making the turn (I get plenty of practice on these on the TransProvence route!),  less rooty and more muddy and rocky which suited me well. Unfortunately there was a 600m uphill pedalling sprint in the middle of the stage, where I actually felt like I was stationary I was going so slowly, so any time gains I’d made up with my smooth cornering were probably lost here! Anyway, I survived the stage with no crashes, and feeling better knowing the number of hills left to climb was slowly decreasing!

The climb to stage 3 was pretty much all pushing for me…on a normal day I’d probably have pedalled it but the legs were saying a definite “No”! This stage was freshly cut trail snaking it’s way down a steep slope. It was pretty much all off-camber grass and mud, and given that it had started raining pretty heavily, you can probably imagine the consequences! It was hilarious…I giggled the whole way down, barely able to stay upright, in fact spending most of the time lying on my side with the wheels having slid out underneath me. My tyres were fully clogged and whilst they’d been chosen for riding in dry, rocky Trans-Provence country and will be great there, they were less well suited to the claggy mud! The stage ended on a couple of wooden jumps and a wall-ride in front of the main race start/finish area, and pretty much everyone was filthy and in hysterics at the end of it! It must have looked like complete comedy to the people watching on the sides.

Liam Myonihan of the Dudes of Hazzard had ventured over from Scotland for the race too (Image from enduro-mtb.com)

For me, one of the good things about blind racing, is that if it’s a race, I see something and just ride it without letting myself get psyched out by it….sometimes this doesn’t end well but I’m normally going too fast to change my mind about it until I’m committed! There are plenty of places where I scrape through by the skin of my teeth, and know that if I were to ride the same section again, I’d probably be pretty worried knowing how difficult some of the upcoming sections were, and maybe hesitate enough to bottle it! That might not make sense to a lot of people, but I prefer it! Anyway, there were definitely a few places in this race where if I hadn’t been racing I’d have stopped and taken a while to work out how or even if, I was going to ride them!

The organisers had kindly organised a shuttle most of the way up to stage 4, phew, what a relief for my tired legs! So after some refuelling at the feed station and more chattering with other racers, we enjoyed the comfort of sitting in a coach and being whisked up the hill! By this point it was chucking it down, and stage 4 was actually some of stage 1 repeated and then extended. It was going to be mega-slippery…

Rooty singletrack in the woods :) (Image coutesy of enduro-mtb.com)

At pretty much the same point I’d crashed on stage 1, I went down again. This time landing headfirst in the mud in front of my bike…again, thank goodness for full-face helmets. My bars hadn’t spun but it took me a while to get up and get going as I was pretty shaken and wobbly. Someone overtook me as I was getting up, and I set off behind him, only for him to do pretty much exactly the same as me just further down! I had to come to a complete stop as his bike was wedged horizontal between two trees across the trail, and it took a while to move it. By this point I’d relaxed a bit, realising everyone was finding the riding slippery and sketchy, and I’d lost so much time that any chances of doing well were gone, so I may as well just enjoy it, and despite the crashes, I really was! I think I crashed another couple of times, including one just before a short steep rise, which meant I had no speed to make it up the slope, and instead was reduced to grovelling up on my knees clawing at anything I could to stop sliding back down the muddy slide…very undignified but at least I was laughing at how daft I must have looked! From the skids and handprints and shoemarks on the slope, I’d say I probably wasn’t the only one! To top off the stage, the organisers had thrown in a set of stairs which you had to run up right near the end, just when you were completely exhausted…torture!

The ride (push) up to stage 5 was thankfully short, and as it was now completely pouring down, I somehow seemed to make myself move faster up it to reach the start of the timed section. It was another stage like stage3, freshly cut and taped off camber corners on a steep grassy slope that resembled one large muddy slide. It was actually great fun, and with the finish right in the centre of the village and your name being announced as you rode into view of the large crowd of spectators, it was a good end to the day.

Overall winner Remy Absalon crossing the finish line in the pouring rain (Image from enduro-mtb.com)

As with many French races, there was a meal to enjoy with fellow racers once you’d finished, with everyone comparing stage times and waiting to hear the results, a really sociable atmosphere. I made a whole load of new friends from lots of different places, came a pretty respectable 5^th woman given how awful I’d felt at the start of the day, had a fantastic time riding the trails even if I wasn’t at my best, and definitely had the satisfying end-of-race fatigue that meant I knew I’d be sleeping well that night!

The race was brilliantly well organised and went smoothly from start to finish, and it’s no surprise that the Bluegrass races in France sell out when you know you can expect such great riding and racing for your money…I hope I can fit in another one at some point!

Once again, my Juliana bike was AMAZING!! It most definitely saved me from many more crashes than I actually had, was as fun as ever to ride, and drew lots of attention from other racers wanting to know about it or just generally admiring it’s loveliness! Unbelievably, despite the number of times it’s been crashed into and onto trees, rocks, and other obstacles, and the amount of hard riding it’s already done in the 4 short months since I’ve had it, it still looks like new thanks to the Invisiframe taping protecting the frame. I can’t help but think this would be very different if that wasn’t there…especially given that the only paint chips that are visible are on the tiny sections the Invisiframe doesn’t cover! To anyone getting an expensive new bike I seriously recommend this stuff!( www.invisiframe.co.uk )

Tired but happy to have finished in one piece!

Well, only a few days until I start work again for the summer, and I can’t wait to be out guiding again on the awesome trails of the Maritime Alps. With a few more races, some other exciting work, and several different trips to guide this summer, it’s going to be a busy one, but hopefully a lot of fun… Ciao for now!