Witley Yately Enduro
Venue:- Warren heath Yateley, Hampshire.

Class:- Clubman B

View the results
Images here soon If I get any

The sportsmen had to complete 5 laps whilst the clubman B's had 8 to do!
Quite a jump but I've decided to upgrade from sportsman to Clubman B for this season and that's what I did.

As Cass needed the car, Steve Hartland kindly swung by my place and collected my bike, my gear and myself and we headed out to Yately. All went smoothly until we spotted the times for our laps and they did look rather tight for our abilities. The clerk of the course, Christian Vaughn, informed us all that he was expecting everyone to pick up time penalties. This, to my mind, is a good idea as it saves the event being won by a couple of seconds in the special test.

The going looked decidedly soft under foot (tyre?) and I was glad that I'd let the back tyre down a bit to something like 6psi or so (I'll measure it one day). Eventually 11:01am arrives and I'm away from the start gate on my first enduro in 2003 and my fist event as clubman B. The new set of pads I'd fitted to the back seemed to be working just fine as I shimmied down the first incline through the dense forest.

On the way to the event Steve and I had had a conversation about bark busters and the lack of them on my machine. I'd told him how I used the odd 'twating' of my pinky by a pine tree to act as a reminder that I was cutting things a bit fine. However, when I saw a couple of trees in my path, one either side of the track, both with the bark well and truly removed I wondered if Steve's suggestion that I 'should have bark busters' might have been a good idea.

With 125 riders or so in front of me the route was well and truly marked and in some places 'interesting' ruts were already forming. This enduro was obviously going to get difficult as the day wore on and the grooves got deeper.

Getting into the swing of it with the low tyre pressure in the rear finding lots of grip I was quickly getting into the swing of the event. Bit of caution here and there, bit of welly up the slopes and so on, all was going smoothly. At one moderately small incline I gave the throttle a bit of a twist to get the momentum going. Half way up ease off the power to gain a bit of control before the top...
Hmmmm... don't think I should still have this much momentum...
Nope, defiantly still going a bit quick, best close the throttle some more...
Errr... the throttle IS closed and I'm STILL accelerating I'm sure this isn't correct...
I know I shouldn't be doing this speed through the undergrowth!
In with the clutch and. yet, throttle's stuck open, I knew there was a problem but didn't I get up that hill real easy!
Luckily a quick blip seemed to sort the problem and in the best tradition I decided that it was just fine now and carried on. As it turns out, it was all fine and I never had the problem again, I guess something just got stuck someplace and the blip freed it.

The first lap of the two lap session over and I was already a good 5 minutes behind schedule. Time wise, this was one of the easiest sessions of the day so I was obviously going to pick up some points. The advantage of being late is that you don't need to worry about the times any more. Just go through the gate whenever you want and you know you won't be getting penalties for being too early, bonus.

On with the second lap of the day. Got some way around and noticed that one of the more boggy areas was getting fairly well cut up with a lot of tracks appearing where riders had tried various routes to find the elusive 'dry bit'. Judgment being the better part of valour I decided to stop and examine the situation and trying to spot the path of least resistance. Then the oddest thing happened, it was like a dream, a vision, an inspiration! I heard a voice call my name. Was it my guardian angel trying to show me the route that so may others sought? I looked to the heavens so that I might understand the sign better and once again I heard the voice beckon, but still no positive sign was to be had. Then the voice a third time, this time with an air of urgency "Oi!, Bob you git, I'm over 'ere!" Ahh, It was Steve, bike pivoting see saw like on it's pegs in one almighty rut. After 15 minutes of heaving on his own he'd successfully freed the front wheel but the rear was proving to be too much. With the two of us it was a simple task to free it up and he was back in the event.

By now the tell tale signs of boggy areas was becoming apparent with some parts of the track diverging in multiple routes. Some very helpful riders were sitting stationery in the worst ruts meaning the rest of us knew which ones to avoid. The marshals were hoicking machines out to the best of their abilities despite the fact that they seemed to be fighting a loosing battle in places.

At the end of the first session I was at least 10 minutes late. This meant that for the next session, if I kept up the same speed I'd have accrued 45 miniute in penalties. A quick calculation at this point showed that by the end of the event I'd be around 75 minutes late and 15 minutes over the houring out time, it wasn't looking good. By hey, what the hell, I've paid my entrance fee and am already dirty so I might as well plough on, and plough we all did.

During my third lap I was, to my mind, honoured. I can now honestly say that I AM worthy of eating Nicky Plumb's, of Dakar rally fame, roost as that's exactly what I did. He passed me in a shower of stones and mud, it was only as I looked away to avoid a face full that I spotted the number 8 on the side of his bike and was set up for the day.

I'd started to notice that the rear brake, with it's shiny new pads, didn't seem to be slowing me down much any more. In fact it wasn't slowing me down at all I noticed as I wrapped myself around a nearby pine tree. Not a show stopper, I'd just have to put more reliance on the limited engine braking and front brake and sort the back brake out after the event.

Next obstacle was a bit of a ditch crossing. I did my usual, stop before the hazard and see how others were doing it. Whilst there I noticed what looked like a shallow patch that had been used but wasn't now being used. It was a little bit of a detour but nothing that would make any difference to my times. I indicated to the nearby marshal my intent and he informed me "yea, it's passable, just lift the front wheel a bit as it's a little sharp". No problem thinks I. I didn't have much of a run up from where I'd stopped but 'it'll be all right'. Approach, blip the throttle, back wheel spins front wheel digs in, handle bars rotate till there stopped by the Speedo and I get a very close inspection of my own headlamp. By pure luck bike and I somehow exit the obstacle still attached to each other. The marshal informs that next time I might want to try bouncing on the back wheel a little as he assists in repositioning my bars into a more conventional angle.

Third lap of eight done and I'm well on target for my 75 minutes over time but a quick slurp of water and I head off again. It's my intention to at least get to the special test which I'm allowed to do after my 5th lap. I notice that along with the rest of the bike both brake callipers are well covered in the sandy goo that makes up the track, probably the reason for the limited braking efficiency I'm encountering. Now the front brake seems to what a couple of pumps before it does much to heed my progress.

During this forth lap I descend a particularly steep bit and notice a bike climbing the following incline. Keeping half an eye on the bike in front to ensure he's clear I witness one of the most interesting things I've seen in a long time. Unbeknown to me there seems to be some kind of award for artistic impression. The chap ahead gets half way up the hill and raises his machine so that it's vertical. He then slides majestically off the back so that he's standing up, spins the bike and himself through 270 degrees and places it back on the ground. Leaving himself stood by his bike, engine running, 90 degrees to the track. I ride past and congratulate him on his artistic flair before continuing on my way.

Finishing lap 4 I am, as predicted, very late. Steve's stood there in the pits having given up some time earlier. We discuss the pro's and con's of the event so far and with not a little effort from myself I proceed on for lap 5 even though I know it's a fairly hopeless situation. The track is getting more difficult with the ruts, my hour is already nearly spent, and my back is defiantly complaining.

The first down hill section seems to go a bit quicker than I intended. The front brake seems to be failing rather badly now. next serious down hill and slowing my self down is only achieved with the aid of one of the many trees, not the best method of stopping but certainly effective. Next comes a very short fire break section and ahead lies a nasty decent followed by a million and one deep ruts up the next hill. With no brakes and no real hope of keeping within the time required to gain a finish I decide it's time to give up for the day. Steve's there, at that very point, watching and doesn't try very hard to encourage me to continue. After all, he knows how tough the going is and he also knows how far out of time I am.

It's rather depressing not to finish but I've had a good day, got back into the swing of it and overtaken quite a few riders. I even had a few riders slow me down at times witch I find a good indicator that I'm defiantly improving. The results may show (I hope they show) that not many persons did finish. When we returned to the pits there were quite a number of bikes parked up and a good collection of empty parking slots.