Naseby 12 hour, April 2015

Matt Corbett is mostly responsible for the years installment of the Naseby 12 hour mtb race.

Whilst selling the solo idea to me, he said you do more laps than in a team, and at a slower pace.

So, I signed up.

Then Matt asked if I'd entered singlespeed ?
Not on your life I replied.
So I changed my grade to singlespeed after Matt again gave me his snake oil answer.

I'd recently smashed my previous time at Karapoti and the bike was still a mess, so I thought it quite smart to remove all the dirty parts and worry about them next summer.

Trying to find the magic gear and a chain tensioner that didn't slip was nigh on impossible, but I nailed it with a half link and a fat 1/8th pitch chain - and no tensioner.

I was in a post Club Road Champs slump after been dropped 5 km into the 100 km race so wasn't really enthused about road biking.

Mr Corbett was up in Wanaka a few times before the Naseby race; on wedding organisational duty so we did a few laps of Deans Bank and Luggate.

Easter Friday we knocked out 70 km in 4 hours on the singlespeeds which impressed the heck out of me - that's a long way with one gear in my world.

So, with a week to go - my riding was back online, the bike was sorted and of course I had a to do list as long as my arm.

There was just the small matter of what to eat for 12 hours and trying to stay away from the pub in the last 24 hours.

Sausage Rolls looked promising, but on advice from Gavin Mason they were dropped for pre cooked Cheerios.
And Pizza, bananas, gels, and the usual water and electrolytes in the bottles.

Managed to get to bed with only 3 beers or slow release carbohydrate drinks under my belt and dreamt of the unknown day ahead.

Race day weather was chilly in the morning, dry and not a snowflake to be seen.

My first lap was slow, I thought I was the only person around me with clip in pedals.

It was soul destroying compared to other years riding on the red line, served up with a side of vomit: in a team.

I can't remember if I stopped on the 2nd lap or not, but when I did call into the pits for food and drinks Trudy just piled the food into my back pockets, swapped empty bottles for full ones and I was off again.

I'd like to say I tore out of the campground and up the first hill like a bat out of hell, but I didn't.
I walked it.

And cruised around the water race like I was holding an ice cream.

The plan was going perfectly, in that I didn't have a plan, so it couldn't fail.

Early on 3rd lap it was action stations - slipping seatpost alert.
Like a knight in shining armour who should arrive ?
Marc Sharman, my usual partner in crime, who said he was really flying and couldn't stay and help.

So, that's how it was then.
I enter solo one time and that's it.
All those fun times in a team with Marc and like that, if was over.

I did my best to ignore Marc throughout the day when he tried to engage me in idle chat after that sideswipe.

A lightning pit stop, bottles, food and a seat post change over.
Boom, I walked out of the campground eating my peeled banana up the hill this time.
Things were looking up.

Righto
My food choice was good, the packaging not so good.
Everything was in one pocket.
Pizza, cheerios, peeled banana, jelly beans, muesli bar: all together.

Next lap, I'd inform the crew chief and we'd do better.

Although riding solo, I found a lot of other folks to talk to - who like me, weren't in a rush and were in for the long haul.

I'd been chatting with Cam Mchardy for a while, but didn't recognise him again after he stopped for a pee.
Great, three laps in and I'm losing it already.
Only 10.5 hours to go.


Lots of stuff was happening, but mainly plodding along trying not to break a sweat and remembering  to eat and drink everything each lap.

Next pit stop:  Trudy said Matt was dicing for 2nd or 3rd place !
Holy crap, it was on in the Corbett camp.
He had unleashed his can of whip ass early on against a young guy riding a rigid single speed with taped up wrists ;-like a boxer.

Myself, I had nothing like that to report, except smoking a few riders on the downhills while they then passed me back on the up hills.

Maths not being my strong point my 50 minute laps had my brain working overtime figuring out power output, lactate thresholds, rpm, tire wear, calorific intake, liquid exit strategy, and how many times I would make it around now I had completed 6 laps in 5 hours.

Normally 6 laps takes all day and a chunk of the night and here I was mid afternoon and I could have called it a day and still be further ahead.

The Wednesday Night crew from Dunners were in full flight and not far off cracking into the beers, they were taunting me.

I soldiered on with a quick stop to don vest, arm and knee warmers now the sun was getting low.

Round and round we go.

Having a Solo Rider yellow tag hanging under your seat tells other riders you are mental and have no friends, so they offer encouragement as they fly past.
"You suck loser "
"God you're slow "

Then they see you have only one gear.
You might as well be in a wheelchair and have a sign saying you have the plague.

Except Jess Simson who not only recognised me but said I was going great.

Anyways, around 530 I met Matt out on the course as I was walking up Ramp Road.
"How's it going ? "
- "First time I've walked this bloody hill all day - and you ? "
"Mate, I've been walking it all day! "
- "I'm pulling the pin after this lap, my knees are shot"
"Bugger, oh well maybe there was something in that woosie small gear I've run all day and all those hills I've walked up ? "

6pm
Matt Corbett pulls the pin, Rick Woodward has a full change of gear, lights on.
3 course dinner: soup, lasagne, stewed apple.
20 mins and we're off again.
Some would say that was slow, but I'd been slow all day - who cares !

Another 2 laps pas by, a 3 minute pit stop to change batteries and refuel.

I'd clocked up 12 laps !
And worse than that I was 3rd singlespeed overall.

Podium only goes to 3rd.

Mental arithmetic overload: 50 minute laps, 2 hours to go.
I could just stop now and suffer the humiliation from my peers for the next 12 months or plod along and prey for a mechanical.

Made it in with ample time to spare.

Suffice to say I felt pretty stoked standing on stage.

This one wasn't a medal for turning up, I'd actually done something quite well, for many hours.

Earned it you could say.

Man I was fucked the next day and the next and the next.

And then by Wednesday my heart rate was back to normal.

24 solo anyone ?

Naseby 12 Hour Mountain Bike Race April 16th 2010

This year’s event was showing a lot of promise – we entered on time and had a reasonable show of talent and scuffers alike – just like last year; but with different people.

Myself, Phil from Henderson Cycles in Alex, a friend of his; Craig Wight (pronounced White) and the love of my life – Keighley.

Recent events transpired to send it all pear shaped - read previous blog entry if you need updating.

I informed Phil that he might need another couple of riders just in case....he found a couple of local ladies thru the bike shop.

Then I re-invited myself back into the team as Keighley and Chuck were under control in Christchurch Hospital and no longer requiring my 24/7 bedside attention.

A small glitch the day before when my boss promised his pop up tent to two teams, but that was resolved thanks to Phil who had a spare one...

Jeff was there again, but with a far more palatial camp set up this time. He’d sent a text at 1.02 PM advising he was set up and good to go....you weren’t allowed onsite until 1pm and Jeff was first in the gate at 12.40....Legendary.

There was Cam riding solo again and another 3 teams sharing our digs, but plenty of room for all and sundry - even these guys:

I arrived much later and we quickly added the pop up to the mix thus completing the set up phase.

Next was the roll call phase – The girls were coming up on Saturday Phil said.

I asked where was Craig – our anchor man, the guy we’re hoping to string together endless sub 30 min laps while we drank beer and heckled the solo riders...

He’s in Taupo was the reply.

12 hours to go and he’s driving a truck down from Auckland that broke down, so had to go back to Hamilton to get a waterpump, back to Taupo fit the water pump and then keep going....

But at 10pm that night just as we’d found Phil’s bottle of Old Masters Port; Craig was on the Ferry across Cook Strait – a mere days drive away. Sweet as.

Aaron from RR Sport Dunners had ponied up with amazing accommodation via a family connection so we headed off there and giggled away like a couple of schoolgirls till the wee small hours until we faded away in a boozy haze......awakening in the same boozy haze wishing we didn’t have to go racing.

That’s right; he had his race face on and was out to prove the naysayers very, very wrong – McGrother can smash it all day in the dog people – look out.

I sent Phil out for the first lap as my knee was bung and I did the first lap last year anyways.

Once again the weather was great – warmer this year though and the course was mint.

I learnt the last bit of downhill single track to the finish was called “The cat puncher” for some strange reason that only Aaron knows...even though some guy broke his collarbone and thereafter the race radio referred to it as ....wait for it....collarbone alley.

How they came up with that one I’ll never know. I like Cat Puncher.

I know you’re wondering how I rode a year on from last year – I’d moved my cleats to a much more powerful shoe/pedal position and could really deal it out know. My cranks and bottom bracket probably need replacing I dare say.

New tyres were on the 29er complementing the wash and wax it had lovingly received prior.

And new FOX (there’s the plug) forks now with 15mm axle. Oh yeah baby.

I sucked as usual with times around 31.5 mins or slower which makes me think maybe I exaggerated my lap times from last year. Certainly there was no chance of knocking Ryan Cull from CSI (best prize for a wanky acronym) off his 24.09 min perch.

The day unfolded like a cheap Bali knock off watch – slick handovers or arriving to find no one on our team in the tent – real hit and miss stuff. Classic.

Craig arrived about 2pm and promptly knocked out our fastest lap on a bike I wouldn’t have ridden if was paid to; no suspension, vee brakes, 26 inch wheels, hardtail.

There that should get some discussion going at least....

From our excellent pit set up we watched a lot of Solo riders go past – many on singlespeeds and most with a wretched look on their faces as they ground uphill into the campground.

I may have quietly and politely said “bugger that” because it didn’t look like as much fun as we were having in the cheap seats handing out informal prizes for “most outstanding nipples” and “best cleavage”. I wouldn’t call myself sexist – more of an observational roll is how I’d describe it.

At one stage we were in tenth place in the mixed vets grade – then with the blink of an eye 6^th place, just like that. Must have been that 6 seconds I pulled back one time....

Hannah has taken on the moniker of skate/sifty chick while recovering from a busted ankle so I didn’t have to arrange any impromptu catering this year. Marc may have busted a night lap in a fairly smart time, but that hasn’t been confirmed by the commissaries panel as yet.

My night lap was marred by lack of familiarity with the night time riding environment even though I had a new light set up which bang for your buck (again, there’s the plug) is awesome.

Or was it the total lack of training or recent blip in the game plan ?

All three I’d say – I was done.

Fortunately Craig wasn’t and he bought us home inside the time limit to chalk another lap up for team www.redwoodrevolution.blogspot.com

While we all dipped out at a very well represented prize giving (riders and goodies) Craig did get an honourable mention for most determined effort to get there and some booze to boot. Nice.

Marc was in charge of post event fluid repatriation and thanks to Emmerson’s Brewery, dehydration wasn’t a factor.

Sunday dawned with the frost from Hell – wait that doesn’t make sense, because Hell didn’t actually freeze over, it was just very cold.

The Cafe was shut on (potentially) the most lucrative day of the year, but the girls had the coffee cart cranking again which was a smart move on their behalf.

We were packed up and ready to roll surprisingly early for us – well me anyway.

No trip away would be complete without a few distractions – the private museum in Naseby was a tremendous tribute to the past and his neighbour gets a special mention for his enthusiasm to motorsport; he was racing motorbikes at Porirua when I was in a pram !

Hayes Engineering in Oterehua was impressive for another dose of yesteryear.

And the chow and cuppa at the Cafe in Omakau was very pleasant.

Different to last year, but just as enjoyable for a bunch of different reasons.

Cheers Naseby.

Naseby 12 hour Teams Race 2009

Returning from a four year hiatus, Team Redwood decided it was time to “have another go” and face the 12 hour teams race demons once again.

Now there’s four of us – Keighley, myself, Emily (3 years old) and Charlie (1 year old) and with Naseby forest just up the road we talked the Browns into joining us on their Satan’s Cruisers.
MarkyMarc from Dunners was also on the roster in between feeding his girly Hannah who was doing her 1st 12hours solo….

Charlie woke at 5am, so I made him watch 24-solo as a pick me up for the coming 48 hours…

Friday afternoon we departed Wanaka, set up camp with Henderson Cycles from Alexandra in the sponsors area and enjoyed the hospitality of Cameron’s dad – Jeff who bought his work trailer fully decked out with bbq, toaster, jug, booze, tunes, work bench, vice – everything basically – this man is organized.

Off to Ranfurly for tea and our luxurious cabin for the night – oops I mean Stalig 13.
Mate, it was sparse. 4m x 4m. double bed and a single bunk on top. A little fan heater. That was it. No wonder it was cheap.
Kids wouldn’t have a bar of the porter cot / single bunk. So it was 4 of us in the double bed and the little one said roll over, roll over and Mum said this sucks and Dad said this sucks and then morning arrived and the kids were ok and Mum and Dad were pretty bloody average really.
Hardly the sort of start that Craig Gordon would have had is it ???

So, off to race I mean event village – dropped everything off at tent, parked truck in a great spot just outside gate – can’t believe no-one else had grabbed that spot.

Our tent was brimming with talent and scuffers alike.
Coffee van right next door.
Commanding views of start finish straight.
Sorted, we are.

Race briefing I normally shun, but it was over the PA. so there you have it – I was there.
Le Mans start I do not do at all. So I walked. All around the whole camp ground/pit area.
Got my bike and went the wrong way, because there was no one else to follow.
Bugger. I overheard someone say “short lap for him” and knew something wasn’t right, so ducked under the tape and headed off in the right direction.
Lovely course; Naseby and I have not had a strong love affair in the past – felt like all the tracks were backwards.
Not on race day because the course flowed like an oil tanker spewing its' precious load all over a barren coast.
Passed about twenty punters, not because of my rippling muscled legs, but because they were punters and I am a seasoned veteran and was sure I could bluff a 12 hour in my sleep.
Pulled into our tent ready to hand over the mantle to my team mate; Leighton who was not ready. Not by a long shot. Not even. So the twenty people passed us back again. Not what Craig Gordon would have done. No no.

Anyways, we were under way and the laps dropped like flys. Pauline was out, then Keighley.

I changed my back tire with the help of Emily.

Then Mark who in a total bowt of over achieving enthusiasm declared he was doing two laps back to back. WTF I thought and said yeah sure what ever.
He gave me instructions on when Hannah would be in, what she would need and what to do in case of emergency – jelly snakes apparently. And then he was gone.
So I’m looking after the kids and Hannah. Great.

Hannah roars in – I ditch a kid and say what do you need – “water” – so I change bottles and push her off up the gentle hill and she says I want something savory next lap.
WTF ? Savory – what is savory ? Pizza ? Bacon and egg pie ? Sausage rolls ?? Savory I say !! Holy crap.
Think man, Mark gave you 400 instructions, somewhere in my brain was the trigger I was looking for and on the ground in a pile was 10 red R & R Sport bags and in there was something savory – I didn’t care whose bags I was rummaging in, the women said savory and that’s what she would have.
I found some cheese sticks and decided that was it.
Now how to hand them over ? Greasy little suckers they are and I wouldn’t fancy them jiggling around in my back pocket….over to coffee guy to procure an empty paper cup. Stuff it full of cheese sticks and instruct other team mates to stick in Hannah’s back pocket, right hand side, just like in 24-Solo – that’s how Chris Eatough does it.


And then took off for my next lap which was great as I now knew which direction the course went.
I rode around, passed some people, some people passed me.
The bike (Karate Monkey 29er) was going great guns. I sucked. Felt like my cranks were made of glass. I cursed Leighton for telling me how much better it would be if I slid my cleats back on my shoes, ‘cause that’s what Gaby and Dodzy do, so you can float through the rough.
I bet Craig Gordon doesn’t have his cleats in the wrong place, but I digress. I’d made the decision and that was that.
I could have ridden in jandels and not improved any.

Back to the pits – excellent changeover – Leighton was there and ready, except apparently there was a red snap wrist band that you had to wear and it was in the red bag and, and , and “just get out there mate, don’t worry about it – the timing is manual” So off he went. Phew.

Hannah thought the cheese sticks in the cup was really cool.
And Mark got slower on his 2nd lap, so that proved my theory, but he has since come up with a raft of excuses…..

The weather was warming up and looking promising. The kids weren’t blue any more and Charlie was in full swing bludging food off anyone he could.
Emily amused herself on the playground, reading stories and hanging out on the couches.

Camp radio was also not bad – 1st 12 hour I’ve been to that played Hunters & Collectors – bonus.
Normally it’s Murray FM and man does that guy have bad taste in music.

Whilst waiting for my next lap, I took in my surroundings – a man ran past with a bike over his shoulder sans wheels; rules say you must finish your lap with your bike. I guess he did.

An Asian man wearing pink bunny ears, tutu and masquerade mask roared up on his Salsa La Cruz cyclo cross bike (fully rigid and singlespeed), stuffed a can of creamed rice down his gob and took off again.
Apparently he is a PHD honors student, so you’d think he would know better, I’ve since discovered Mickey has quite a following and his reputation precedes him – Bushloveracing fears him so I’m reliably informed.

The NZ 24 hour solo champ; Tony Hogg was well on his way to completely smashing the field in the dog all day and in doing so, completing 24 x 10 km laps. Very slick. His wife was running the one man pit crew and had it completly dialled; radios with earpiece and microphone for them both meant there was no guess work or chance of missing out on that mochacino at 7.30 pm........
Fair to say there was no pizzas or beer mid race for that boy...

So the day unfolded in a similar fashion and I called it a day about 6pm. I’d just gone out with my lights fully charged just in case someone threw a switch and I was enveloped in darkness in the 30 minutes it took to do a lap.
I did try and turn the lights on for the last stretch of single-track, but a connector had been bumped off so that was that. Wing it.

Markymarc knocked out two more laps in the dark, Leighton, Pauline and Keighley all did 3 laps each and we all had tea, coffee and desert to finish of a lovely day.

So, just a great nights sleep with the kids in the bottom bunk again – Keighley called enough and got the top bunk and then it was morning again.

Peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast back at Naseby while packing up tents and chairs and then off home to unpack, put away, clean and have the neighbours over for a farewell dinner as they are moving round the corner.

Would we do it again ? Yep.
Have we been doing these events for something like 12 years ? Yep.
Was this the best one yet ? I think so -
Low key, great course, well organised, good tunes, lucky with the weather - last year it snowed and even with the nippers going ape all day we survived.

Pictures are here Results are here We are called Albert town Banjo racks, under mixed teams.