tardree

I'd often heard that Tardree is the place to go for mountain biking. Jed mentioned it when I was talking to him too, so I decided to head up there to get some technical practice in. I went with some trepidation - I don't consider myself particularly skilled, and from all the talk I expected the place to be teeming with semi-professionals laughing at my bumbling efforts, and then demonstrating the sort of skills I should really have. As it turned out, I arrived and the place was deserted.

I started off trying the southern forest, Carnearny mountain, but it was ridiculously steep. I rode as much as I could but there was a fair proportion of pushing. I've been finding that it takes me a while to get into the swing of things at the start of a ride, and after an hour or so, I can tackle sections that earlier looked impossible. My ride on Carnearny was cut short because the forestry commission have thoughtlessly cut down big sections of trees right across the track.

I headed back across the road to Tardree mountain, and investigated. I've been walking there many times, but this time I was alert, looking for tyre tracks leaving the main path off into the tres. Dozens of them, most of them terrifying, and I always seemed to be going up a trail that was designed for coming down at 70mph. You have to look closely at the picture, but there's a trail in there between the trees, with manmade jumps and dropoffs. I took a break after an hour to chat to a couple of bikers who arrived in a van. "We've never been here before so we're here to take a look"
That was supposed to be my line.
After a five minute break I rode on, and the impossible ascents were becoming doable. Then, I was turning off the path onto a trail, when my foot slipped off the pedal. The pedal banged into my calf and scratched it - at least I assumed it was a scratch until I looked down a couple of minutes later. My skin must have been at full tension when the pedal caught it, because it looked like it had exploded (the photo's from over a week later). It wasn't very sore, so I covered it and taped it, and kept riding. I usually do carry a first aid kit, but that's the first time I've needed it. Then I met up with another biker. I was trying to ride up a hideous ascent and he came up behind me. I stopped to let him past, and he said
"Oh, no don't wait for me, this is my first time here and I was following you because you looked like you knew where you were going"
That was supposed to be my line.

So with him watching me, the hideous ascent was definitely no match for my superior skills.

The cuts on my leg got infected and the doctor put me on antibiotics - which have some ... side effects - but it wasn't painful, I think I don't have very good pain receptors, so didn't stop me riding to work later in the week.

bad-good

I got the wains to bed early last night so I could go out for an hour before the sun went down.

Maybe I should reword that.

I got the wains to bed early so they'd be more alert today, better able to concentrate, have better skin, and to boost their intelligence. As a complete coincidence that also gave me time for an hour's ride before sunset.
Just near home, so no need to burden myself down with tools or anything.

I started out on the track along the sixmile water (the dirt track, not the tarmac'd mill race trail) and I was happy. Not a perfect ride by a long way, but flowing pretty well, picking out good lines, succeeding where I often fail.

You can probably write the next line without my help, but I'll write it anyway.

I got a puncture.

I decided to push it to a gap in the trees and walk out through the technology park. Coming out at the dirt jumps, it looked deserted, until I rounded one of the ramps and saw "Bloke with Spade" He couldn't help me with the flat, but we got talking.
His name's Jed, and he's a qualified architect; but riding bikes is much more important, so he works in a bike shop (chainreaction cycles) and spends his spare time riding, or preparing to ride.
He and his mates started building the dirt jumps fifteen years ago, and they're still improving them. The most recent jumps are over six feet high, but it's impossible to get up enough speed to use them, so last night he was out, adjusting other jumps and berms improving the angles, raising heights, determined to do what's currently impossible.

I've noticed this about mountain biking. It's an old-style sport. There's no pleading for government grants, demanding council action, begging money off other people so you can pay somebody to do something. Mountain bikers the world over are only too happy to get off the bike, lift the spade out of the car, and do the work themselves.

I never did get to complete my ride, but I gave Jed a hand and he gave me a lift home. I'm glad I met him.

hard - easy

Took a different route home on Friday. It's a route between Cave Hill and Divis Mountain that's rather steep in places. I'd been looking at it on the map and daring myself to try, but never plucked up the courage. Then on Friday I took a wrong turn and was half way up the hill before I twigged where I was (my sense of direction's not the best).

Actually it's not that bad, and the view of the city from the top is pretty good. If the Pennines aren't a lot steeper I'll feel cheated; and the fact that all the climbing's out of the way at the start with a long descent for the rest of the journey makes it my quickest route home, so I'll probably be going that way again next time I ride home from work.

wet

I've been getting some proper off-road riding in over the last couple of weeks. Took my mate Evan with me one day, but he's normally a fully fledged lycra-clad road rider, so the whole idea of skipping over wet tree roots, letting go down a 45º slope with a tree blocking the path, and riding through the British Isles' largest freshwater lake was sort of new to him.

Actually I've never had to ride through Lough Neagh before. It'd been a wet weekend and the lough had swollen so it covered the track almost a foot deep. Quite spectacular with the sun filtering through the trees, flickering off the water and us trying to guess where the track would have been if we'd been able to see it. Not the first time I wished I'd had a camera.