Dawn to Dusk 12 hour enduro
Venue:- Seven Sisters, Nr. Glynneath, South Wales.
Class:- Iron Man
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What a long weekend! Started out at 7am Saturday got home around 3pm Monday had a great time in-between.
On the Saturday there was to be three sighting laps. During the first I went off to fly my model glider on a nearby hill but returned in time for the second. All went well for the first 10 minutes then it turns out that some local kids had turned some of the arrows around and the marshals accompanying us didn't know where the track was meant to go either. After doing the same small section four times Simon (another Whitley club member) and I decide to head back to the pits and give up on the wild goose chase. On the way we spotted some more arrows and followed the track from there. The section we did showed a bit of mud, some steep descents, some fast fire roads and some steep climbs. It eventually turned out that we'd only done about ¼ of the track.

Later in the campsite most of the Whitley gang sat around a small camp fire drinking tea, coffee and beer till one by one we drifted off to our respective beds. Some were sleeping in their cars others in their van and I retired to my 6 man 'field hotel' tent. OK a bit of overkill for one guy but it's the only tent I have.

A restless night ensued due to generator noise in the distance (used to power the security lights) and a bit too much anticipation of the coming event. I was woken finally at 5:45am by the sound of others wandering around and getting ready for the 7am kick off. On with the kettle (supplied by Simon) and brew up half a dozen teas for the gang, get my gear on and watch the sun break over the horizon. This was going to truly be 'dawn till dusk'.

The start was a little delayed but eventually the expert iron-men had their bikes lined up on the grid whilst they were stood 20 feet away behind a length of tape held each end by marshals. At the correct moment the marshals raise the tape to let the riders run for their bikes. One or two of the riders expected the tape to go down rather than up leading to a bit of entanglement but all got off to a flying start. During all the groups starting before myself a couple dropped it while going too fast into one of the first corners with only their pride damaged. Due to a number of machines not having side stands all sorts of methods were employed to keep the bikes upright on their own. Some use bits of wood that were kicked away on starting others lent their machine on the one next to it whilst I (and others) employed the assistance of a bystander to hold the machine. One poor girl was obviously holding the bike for her other half but it was in the middle of the starting line. As everyone rode of she got the most heinous roosting so I guess that's one guy who will have to get a side stand next time ;o).

By the time it got to my group to leave (the clubmen iron-man class) the determination to get the hole shot had diminished significantly and even though I didn't hurry I was still only third into the first corner. Knowing that the track went up a hill early on I headed directly for it whilst wondering why everyone else seemed to be taking a longer route. I then spotted the huge ditch just in time to avoid falling in it so stopped turned around and followed the rest of the pack. An interesting start to a very long day.

I used the first lap to check out the track so took it easy. It was during this that I realised just how much we'd missed out during Saturdays sighting lap! There were more huge assents and descents, a couple of river crossings and a stretch of deep mud that didn't have a good clean path anywhere through it the whole day. The dust kicked up by others in front seemed to hang in the air for ages and the early morning sun in your eye line made for some interesting, almost blind, riding at times. At some point during the first lap the bite valve from my camel back vanished so that when I got to the pits I noticed that I was soaked and would have no water on the ride for the day. With the amount of dust around no drink was sure to leave a nasty taste in my mouth and mean that I'd have to return to the pits for a drink each lap. In the end this break in the pits each lap was a good thing as it helped my pace myself and keep going most of the day.

The second lap I decided to have a go at doing it quickly just for fun as I new I'd have to pace my riding for the remainder of the day. I succeeded in doing a lap in 45 minutes, 5 minutes faster than most of my remaining laps for the day which I was happy about. Some of the good boys were achieving 30 minute laps but I think 40-45 was around the average from what I heard chatting to people.

The first half of the day went to plan, averaging a lap an hour including breaks then I stopped for a light lunch. One hot dog, a coffee, loads of water, a couple of fags and a glucose tablet later and I was brought back from being well tired to almost fighting fit with around 6 hours remaining. The second half was to be the telling time for myself and I guess a few others. The ruts were starting to get deeper revelling more of the rocks and stones causing lots of punctures for most, luckily my bike had no problems throughout the day. Riders were starting to tire and make mistakes and air filters were clogging up with the constant dust. I fell in the middle of the biggest muddiest section, not hard or fast but bad enough to leave the left side of both myself and the bike a nice shade of dripping, oozing, brown and weed. One ascent near the end had a narrow rut with a huge bolder at the beginning which eventually dented my frame, not badly, just annoying. On the same assent at one point I managed to fall again and Murphy's law, being what it is, meant that I fell expansion chamber first onto a big sharp rook denting and putting a small hole in it, I wouldn't have minded so much but it was a new exhaust!

With 4 hours left to go I was really feeling the strain. Both arms were hurting, an old elbow injury was making it's presence known and for some odd reason my neck was aching. Back in the pits I noticed that my feet were agony when I got off the bike. Removal of boots and socks reviled (If you squeamish or about to have dinner you might want to skip to the next paragraph) what appeared to be two prunes with bright red patches where my feet used to be. One of the other club members noticed my predicament and enquired about my socks. I informed him that they'd been given to me by 'mum' for Christmas a few years ago. The have nice pictures of giraffes and elephants on them and are made of the finest cotton. It was then that I learnt that most persons wear sports or enduro type socks rather than pretty looking ones which would go some way to explaining the 6 or so blisters I had. Having no alternative I wrung out my socks (it amazing how much fluid socks can hold) left my feet in the open air to deprunify themselves (much to the disgust of those in viewing and smelling distance) and then put back on the cold soggy socks and carefully inserted my tootsies back into the decidedly squidgey feeling boots and headed out again. This was to be the format for the remainder of the day.

With three hours to go I made a conscious decision to do one more lap and call it quits. Voicing this opinion Rob, Expert 2 man team member, informed me that I'd be doing two more laps using the tone of voice that implies 'if you don't do two more I'll consider you a wimp for the rest of your days!' So off I set for another lap of torture. During this 50 minutes of riding hell my mind was arguing with itself as to whether I could possibly do another lap after this one, the result was erring on the side of giving into the pain and suffering and quietly handing in the time card but Rob voice kept haunting me. Back in the pits it was very touch and go as to whether I could fine the energy to go again. Two fags, half a litre of water, one hotdog, a coffee, a tin of redbull and more glucose tablets later and I hobbled over to the bike (it was next to impossible to walk now) and I was off for a final lap. Although it was done in around 55 minutes by my stopwatch it seemed like a life time before the pits returned to view again. Without getting off the bike I was informed that I could now hand in my lap card with no penalties. I was given the option at the check point of handing in the card or doing another lap. Carefully considering my options at this point for all of 0.001 seconds I informed the marshal what he could do with his additional lap and off came the time card. 12 hours and somewhere between 8 and 10 laps after the start I was finally heading back to my car where clean(ish) dry socks, a towel and comfy trainers awaited my arrival.

All that remained was to collect my stuff from the pits (assisted by Simon and his car) and hang around in the beer tent for the award ceremony and my finishers award. I heard that the top iron man had done 20 laps! OK, he was a professional rider but even so with the best lap time of the day being 29.5 minutes this guy couldn't have stopped all day for any more than refuelling time. That is some serious going!

All in all a good, hard, days riding on a good mixed course with an excellent bunch of guys.