I have to say that I was totally geared up for a mudfest at Thruxton today. I had been looking at the location on Google maps all week and it was obvious there was a lot of grass, but I could also see a lot of brown area which could only mean one thing . . . mud!! CycloCross at Thruxton, as far as I know, was a first, so in truth, no one of knew what to expect. I kind of thought we may even use some of the motor racing circuit but as soon as I turned into the entrance I could see the course taping weaving around the grass field by the entrance. That answered my question.
Ok, no worries, that is still better than hammering my time trial bike down the P613, adjacent to Thruxton, in the summer months, but Grass? last time I did that, my mech exploded and I started hallucinating the unfortunate demise of aluminium tubes and drop handle bars before my very eyes. Those youthful days were, well, actually, never experienced, much to my benefit I think.
I digress!! That's enough talk about grass. This particular breed was in fact, a bit thick but dry. How could it possibly be dry? I've spent most of the week riding my bike in wet, petrol stinking lycra, from the shit off the roads, a wet arse and more water than I care to see for a lifetime. What a strange place Thruxton is. I walked some of the course and my shoes weren't even wet. There wasn't a tree in sight, no hedges, nothing, just grass. This was not going to be an easy race, and I could forsee road racing style bunches forming from the off.
Today would be harder anyway.I've had a bit of free reign lately, two Wessex league wins on the trot, but in my mind, with some notable absences in Tony Green (GA Cycles), Luke Cowley (Swindon RC) and Keith Sheridan (Hargroves Cycles). All three were present today, as expected, and from the start a trio formed consisting of myself, Luke and Keith with Tony just hanging off the back. I was pleased to see Gary Allen not too far off the pace too, it's always good to know there are people to push you, but the drawback to that is the race hurts soooo! much more.
There was no let up, the one small part of the course where I hoped I might get a jump proved to just be a launch platform for all four of us, and relegated the only climb to just another short, plain sector of the lap. However, the aftermath of that was a short drop where Keith and Luke dropped me for a few bike lengths on each of the six? laps (I lost count to be honest) meaning I had a short but intense fightback each time. Numerous twists and turns later led us back into the finish straight, and it continued like this for twenty minutes with me on the front until Keith took the lead, followed by Luke then me, and Tony yo-yoing off this lead group. The difference the tow made was amazing, being on the front into that cold wind was not nice; finally I could start to think tactically. I was not the only one though, obviously. It seemed none of us wanted to risk breaking away, we were too closely matched. Tony latched on again and again, and again and again he dropped off.
So it continued like this until the bell; (last lap) that sweet, sweet sound that means it's nearly over. How can you love something so much that all you want to do is end it, the pain and torture, but only seven more minutes, only seven minutes, one lap, hell and back, please don't crash, please. The temptation was to break right at the bell but realistically I knew that a seven minute interval wouldn't work into that wind, and I think we all thought the same thing. With about two minutes to go (I couldn't tell you which part of the course it was because frankly it all looked the same) and maybe a few turns, I got back on the front. Now, in a road race this isn't the best tactic, I know, but I could see some back markers up ahead and wanted to make sure I dictated the line going past them. This seemed to work. Ironically, the worst hold up we had was literally in the last 200 metres, on the slope going into the final turn. In my opinion it wasn't really a hold up but we had to ride the thicker grass to get by, this is where I attacked. It wasn't a big attack, but enough to keep me on the front into the right hander to the finish. Through the corner, and I opened up the sprint. Fortunately I think I had the perfect line and acceleration, and, as you can see in the picture, although close, I had a bike length and took the win from Keith with Luke another bike length back.
Great race, and in hindsight (after a bottle or red), not such a bad course for flat out racing if you like that kind of thing. Next week at Southampton, I'm sure, will actually be a mud bath, and it's a National so don't go getting too much confidence in this Islander, I'm papping my pants already.
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