Whose silly idea was it?

Back when we registered for LunarC a couple of months ago it seemed like such a fun idea.

Sitting in (the back of) the starting line up, the idea did not seem so good any more, rather it seemed like a foolish, stupid, idiotic mistake.

People had talked to me about lights, particularly the magnificent Ayup lights. But at $300-400 a piece I wasn’t rushing out to buy one. I didn’t realise that the reason they were so focused on lights was because they are actually really important in a race run in the dark.

Funnily enough you really do want to see where you’re going, particularly when it the road is actually a narrow dirt potted track lined with trees and containing the occasional log or other obstacle. Shame.

I was woefully unprepared both mentally and physically. I knew there were hills, but I had some romantic notion that downhills leading in to some of them would propel me most of the way up - ha. The hills were horrible and I got to a stage where I didn’t even going to bother tackling them. Once I ran out of puff, instead of grinding and moaning and gasping for breath spinning like mad in granny gear, I just got off and started walking.

And as for the few hills that had a downhill lead up – I was too scared to let go of the brakes on the rutted way down, so the little momentum I had got me, if lucky, a huge 5 metres up the other side!

My first proper lap was horrid. I had never been in a race situation where you start as one big mob of riders, and the experience spooked me. I accidentally ran my bike in to a rut somewhere in the third kilometre and went over the handlebars. It wasn’t a bad stack and didn’t really hurt, even though I now possess a bruise on my leg the size of a saucer (great war wound), but it certainly knocked any confidence I had.

Also unbeknown to me at that minute, the stack had jammed my right gear leaver up so soon after I found myself stuck in 7th gear with no way down.

In my darkest moment pulled over beside the track, while trying to calm my adrenalin and scratching my head in wonderment about my sticky mechanical situation, who should show up but my trusty partner in crime, Taryn.

As usual her calm demeanour was a godsend and she helped me put the whole thing in to perspective. So we scratched our heads in wonderment in unison about my sticky mechanical situation. We poked and prodded the gears, chains and all moveable things related to my back derailer before deciding we had no f*@king idea.

So the decision was made to push on and Taryn moved ahead to ride her own race. About a kilometre later I came across the first checkpoint. A guy there had a look at the bike but was unable to help. By this stage was really hoping that the problem was unsolvable so when I got back to HQ I’d be able to pull out completely.

After this checkpoint the track got a little flatter so with the pack well ahead of me I was able start riding at a pace more suited to my skills and sticky gear situation.

I made it back HQ and went straight to the mechanics. Unfortunately the very pleasant chap had my lever fixed in seconds, so I had no excuse not to continue. I had actually started to find my form in the second half of the track and after a few words of encouragement from Taryn and the fabulous Coach Jeff I set off for my second lap.

The traffic had thinned out and I was getting use to letting faster riders past and navigating in poor lighting. Ignoring the hills, I actually started enjoying myself.

I got through 4 laps during the race, and when adding the practice lap on arrival I rode 50km that night. An effort not to be shunned, and a figure to improve on for the next night race.

M