The VC Glasgow South Road Race

So, it was the VC Glasgow South Road Race this weekend, a fifty mile, three lap loop of a moderately hilly circuit followed by a climb to Whitelee Wind Farm, making a perfect course for me. Luckily for you, Eurosport commentators David Harmon and Sean Kelly took an early flight from Milan to give us their thoughts, which I've edited down to the bits relevant to me, which also happens to coincide with the things I saw and know about. Funny that.

...

DH: So Sean, as the riders get underway behind the cars for this neutralised section of the Velo Club Glasgow South Road Race, what would you choose as your strategy today? It's a very, very hot - glorious day... does that change things at all? Where would you try to be?

SK: Well, er, I think that definitely, we're going to see some riders struggling with this heat. At this sort of level, there are going to be a lot of riders who are not used to taking on so much fluid as they go, and maybe, with the hills, the fitness won't be there, so, you know, but I think it's certainly a lot safer than in the real heavy weather like we have seen in the past number of months. But it is still good to get forward in the bunch, always. There are going to be some nervous riders, even in this neutralised section, and the last thing you want is to be caught in an accident at this early stage.

...

DH: And the riders are coming around to the climb up to White Loch for the first of three times now, and, so far, I have to say, not a lot going on.

SK: No, as you can see, we've got this small number of riders willing to make the pace, and the rest of the peloton just sitting in behind very comfortable.

DH: Would you be tempted, at this point, to break away?

SK: Well, with a big number of kilometres left to race, you would have to make a group of strong, strong riders to make a break for the win.

DH: And, of course, there's a lot of unproven legs out there.

SK: Yes, well, as you can see, there are a number of riders looking about, trying to pick wheels to follow, whilst some riders are already starting to blow on these smaller climbs. I think it's difficult, at this level, to know whether your breakaway companions are really going to go for it or not.

...

DH: ...along this section of the A77 with this brutal headwind. And, Sean, it's all seemed to settle down a bit now, hasn't it?

SK: Well, as you can see, nobody's really willing to go away now as we can see riders coming around to try their legs, but there's no willingness to form a group and chase away. At this early stage, a break would have to get a big advantage over the peloton to go for the win, and most of the big favourites will be making that calculation - do I play it safe until that last climb?

DH: At this level of racing, do you think maybe putting a sprint or king of the mountains prime might liven things up a bit?

SK: Yes.

Well, with a peloton moving this slow, you would expect to see some of the riders maybe not so capable of a sprint trying to go away if there were intermediate points on offer, but with only the race win, you see a lot of hesitation in the bunch.

DH: They just don't want to risk blowing too early.

...

DH: They're sitting comfortably here as they make their second run along the Clunch road and-

SK: -Puncture.

DH: -Hold on, there's a mechanical. It's a Glasgow Green rider. Yup, his hand's in the air, definitely a- yup the back wheel's out, definitely a puncture. And that's... Yoong! Ròberto Yoong! And that's going to be a big, big problem for the young rider.

SK: Well, that's certainly not what he would have wanted. He was going real strong, real good in the front group there, and he'll have to work real hard now to chase back on.

DH: He'll start clawing his way back n- no! He's got another puncture! He's not at all happy with the wheel he's received from the service car.

SK: Well, this is going to cost him a number of minutes.

DH: What a stroke of bad luck for the man in the black and white strip of Glasgow Green. He'll have a hell of a job to catch back onto the group now.

...

DH: Another Glasgow Green rider! This time it has to be Aandie Dòbinson! And this is turning out to be a terribly unfortunate day for the young city centre club - two mechanicals in this second lap, with one rider still  desperately trying to chase on.

SK: Yes, well, as we can see, his chain's just come off the inside of the chainwheel there and not been caught and has jammed between the chain watcher and the chain wheel.

DH: The service car's cleared him quickly, and he'll be able to jump back on to the back of that group...

...

DH: It's gone again! I don't believe it! The chain's jumped on the outside this time!

...

DH: And that's it for Dòbinson, he's had enough. Was looking like a really good day for him, but enough's enough.

SK: Well, when your chain's coming off like that, you have to be able to trust your equipment. In a real hard effort losing the chain will just push the bike sideways and, you know. Can be real dangerous.

...

DH: And poor old Yoong's just hanging out there, unable to close that gap into this headwind. Even if he did, the riders in the group are getting so much shelter - surely there won't be much he can do?

SK: Well, he'll certainly be digging into his reserves now. When your hanging out the back for a number of kilometres,  the wind can be a real - can really eat into your strength. But, you know, in a race of this length, you've got to keep going to the finish if you can. A lot can happen, and if he can regain contact with a good bunch, you can get your legs back a bit.

DH: He's a proven climber, and he would have favoured this course. We caught up with him earlier.

###

RY: I reckon I can give it a good try. The headwind over the final climb's going to make a bit of difference to the tactics, and I think it's going to keep the whole race together for much longer, but, so long as I don't get any mechanicals, I should be in with a good shot.

###

DH: Famous last words for Yoong there. Well, some days it's your day, and some days it really isn't. We have to take a commercial break...

...

DH: ...and Crooickshahnks goes early! That's set the ball rolling at five hundred metres, but is it too early?

SK: Yes.

DH: I think it probably was. Here comes the field...

...

DH: And here comes Yoong up this final climb. Ooh, that is a mask of pain. He's still passing the backmarkers, though.

SK: I think he's on a training ride now.

DH: Yes, a twenty mile time trial to finish just outside the bunch. I think it's pride, as much as anything, Sean - he's saying "I wasn't dropped, I'm still as strong as any of you."

SK: I think what he maybe said was "AAARGH!"

Photo © Sandy Auston, some rights reserved

Cycling as a Game

When I was fourteen, I could ride a skateboard like a pro.

I pressed triangle to grind.

I could out-drive Sebastian Loeb.

Just press circle to handbrake-turn.

I could out-gun a repressive alien overwatch.

Right-click to fire secondary.

I'm still learning how to kill dragons, reverse time and fly helicopters every now and again, but there's only one high score I care about.

My Strava segments.

Pedal to go faster.

Strava is combination of one of the second or third wave of fitness-tracking applications, and one of the first wave of competitive augmented-reality games. The concept is simple - after recording a ride with a GPS device, you upload the data to the Strava site and it compares your route to segments of roads designated by users to be worth timing yourself over - usually hill climbs. You then get a ranking for that climb, against everyone who's ridden it so far, and a record of every time you've ridden it, so you can track your performance. The sections you are "King" or "Queen of the Mountain" on go on a list of palmares, and anybody who is following you gets to see a little crown on your ride summary, telling the world that "I'm the fastest person yet."

It feels good, getting one of these sections.

In Strava, we are seeing the beginnings of road cycling developing as not just a sport, but a game - something that can be picked up and played at any time, without organisation or pressure. Of course, cyclists have always enjoyed the not-a-race sprints and hillclimbs on a group ride, and knowing that they've beaten their previous best up their nemesis slope, but the formalism of the competition; the ability to compare yourself against anyone and everyone, from pro riders to that rider in the local club who took the sprint from you last weekend, opens up a new world of challenge and gratification.

Sounds good, right? Well, currently, it is, but it is our job as consumers and riders to make sure that this emerging "game" plays by rules we can agree with and adds to, rather than takes away from, the enjoyment we find on a bike.

Strava hit the headlines in the USA recently in the tragic story of a pedestrian in San Francisco being struck and killed by a cyclist crossing an intersection. The full details of the case are not fully nailed down yet, but what is known is that the cyclist uploaded the ride later to Strava, which showed him riding at 35mph through the intersection.

Some writers seized this information and used it to express discontent with the concept of Strava in general - http://bit.ly/IJ7SJI. A local blogger felt that Strava was encouraging inconsiderate and dangerous cycling.

There are two pertinent facts that should here be made clear - firstly, there is no Strava segment that crosses the intersection, or that runs into the intersection. Indeed, the only downhill segment in the area is currently under review as dangerous, which leads me into fact two - Strava provides a function to allow users to flag segments as dangerous, at which time they are immediately removed for review.

With those two facts out of the way, it is time to address some (but by no means all - it would take me many, many posts to dissect the lot!) of the concerns of the Marin County blogger.

There are undoubtedly cases where Strava sections may be set-up in inappropriate places, or places where at some but not all times, they may become inappropriate. I know of a few local ones which I would not challenge for to protect my own personal safety, and a few that I could see becoming dangerous. I might as well name one, so we can examine how we can control safety whilst allowing competition.

The descent from the top of the Crow Road south into Lennoxtown is part of a Strava segment that crosses the mountain. In my opinion, it is right that this segment should exist - the full traverse of the Crow is a well-respected ride with a long history. Whilst the descent is usually safe whilst ridden within the limits of the rider, there is one danger zone that would allow a reckless rider an advantage.

There is a sharp left-hander before the car-park that obscures view of hikers and dog walkers crossing from the car-park onto the mountain. Taking this corner at the limit of the bike's ability would give the rider seconds of advantage, but few options if they met a walker and an oncoming car simultaneously.

As a community, we need to decide what to do in this sort of situation, as more users compete and times get tighter. It might be easy for me to just suggest that riders ride safely and accept the unimportance of the segment, since I have access to organised competition to get my kicks, and I am capable of taking lower-speed, less dangerous uphill segments. It might be necessary to put non-timed sections in on descents like this, and this would seem to be the ideal solution.

What of those that think that competition outside of official races is a bad thing anyway? It's certainly true that as a young man, riding hard on a bike put me in some dangerous frames of mind, where the slightest transgression by another road user would send me into a fit of self-righteous rage.

But that was before Strava.

The issue with the hot-headedness of competitors isn't going to go away if you take away the competition. The solutions lie in sanctioned competition - more frequent races with lower cost of entry; and education - encouragement to bring young riders into the fold with clubs, where behaviour on the bike can be monitored and remedied.

It must be remembered that we are in a transition state, not just with regard to regular cyclists and new technology, but also with the whole country becoming more aware of cycling. With the World Champion racing for the UK, the Olympics looking good for the UK cycling squad and even a potential grand tour winner currently representing the state, as well as national cycling advocacy campaigns, we could be looking at a sea change in how cycling is viewed in this country.

Let the games begin.

Too Wet on Two Wheels

"Where are you heading - the Himalayas?"

Twenty miles later, the taste of those words was stuck in my frozen throat.

I had been looking forward to the Brenig Road Race from Denbigh with something like the same enthusiasm that Igor Anton had for stage 19 of last year's Vuelta. Riding in Wales always feels just that extra bit special - the roads, the mountains, the villages; everything just feels 'right'. Pushing the outside pedal down into a corner just doesn't feel the same unless you've just been told to 'ARAF'.

It helped that the event was classed as a regional A. I would be rolling with the Cat 2s, aiming for 7th or above to advance my own category. I had no fear of them. They may have had more experience, but a rider can only get so good on this many races a year, and my legs were feeling fine. I'd keep the pace without question.

Nevertheless, my nerves were extreme. There was a lot that could go wrong, but so much riding on things going right. Jumping a category now could change the shape of my entire season, and a first win in Wales - not an impossibility - would have been the crowning glory of the year, a moment of poetic fortune that I would remember for the rest of my life.

First, though, I would have to weather the storm.

From Tuesday onwards, the forecast was unanimous. "It will rain on Sunday." Soon, that was upgraded to "it will rain hard on Sunday." Then came the warnings - first yellow, then, as race day dawned, amber. Category: severe weather.

The sky was overcast, but still bright as we made our way to Denbigh, and I elected to run without a coat. With all my other gear, I would hopefully be generating enough heat to stay in the game, and I didn't want to be faffing with a coat over my race number coming into the finish.

The overall feeling at HQ as we signed on was one of disbelief. What were we putting ourselves in for? This would be a war of attrition. Of the field of 80, only 54 signed on. Those 26 were the lucky ones.

We trudged to the grandstand two by two, looking like prisoners of war. The rider next to me joked that he didn't care if he looked daft as he put his gilet on outside his coat, looking like a snooker player in a waistcoat but deftly solving the race number issue.

I didn't laugh.

Why the heck didn't I think of that?

We rolled straight out, getting underway so early that we had to stop on the road as stragglers scrambled to get their bikes. The sudden stop nearly put me into the back of the rider in front - still running the stock 105 pads, it took Herculean amounts of force to slow the wheels in this sort of dampness. Why hadn't I switched? I knew it was an issue, and yet here I was. Panicking.

The rider behind me was wearing a bright orange parka, complete with hood. He certainly didn't look like he was part of a bicycle race.

"Where are you heading?" I joked, nervously. "The Himalayas?"

He finished seventh.

He finished.

We rolled out of Denbigh.

The race started.

It ended very shortly thereafter.

I was enjoying myself on the climb. The wind was roughly at our backs, and riders were suffering whilst I wasn't. I rode conservatively and stayed with the lead group. It wasn't exactly easy, but I was leaving a lot in the tank.

Going downhill was a different story. Not trusting my brakes, unable to see for crests and my now opaque glasses, I allowed myself to drop back slightly, knowing that I would catch the group on the climbs. This worked a couple of times. Then I got lazy.

There were a couple of other lads dropped back. I decided I would use them and we could work together to get back up.

We weren't quick enough.

They faded, leaving me with as large a gap to jump as I had started with. Pushing hard on my own into the headwind, my temperature started to drop. My heart rate started to drop. My body started to shut down.

Barely twenty miles in, I went to put in a dig and found I couldn't. My arms were shaking so much I couldn't hold the bike straight, my fingers couldn't find the controls and my legs were jelly. I stopped in the shelter of a small forestry plantation. It was over. The air temperature was 1 degree over freezing, there was sleet in the air and a 20mph headwind. I was done.

Desperately trying to thumb a lift from everyone and anyone, it wasn't until the race doctor got back to me that I could climb in somewhere warm. I transferred to the sag wagon once we crossed paths, and we headed back to HQ, all vehicles full of shivering riders; marshals' cars being drafted in by those in desperate need. Everyone behind that lead group failed to finish. The lone rider who broke away was caught in the first lap of the circuit and, unable to shift and body shutting down, failed to finish.

HQ was full of ashen faces and spilled coffee from trembling hands. We were all glad to be there. We made jokes, noted that there were so few riders left; surely everyone would get points? If only we'd stayed out.

Not one of us could have.

I wrung out my new waterproof gloves. I could have filled a water bottle.

Of the 54 starters, 14 hardy souls finished.

Everybody got home safely.

My most heartfelt thanks to the organisers, marshals, outriders and doctor who made the race happen, and kept it safe despite the most treacherous of situations. It is truly a must-ride race, and I shall hopefully be back next year, in better weather or with better kit.

Good trails!