Merry Crimbo

I hope Santa is good to y'all.

Far Flung Friends - Don Leet

Nice interview/slideshow with honorary VCMer Don Leet of Bend, Oregon from the fine Cyclocross Magazine.

Cyclocross is Spoken Here: Sunnyside Sports in Bend, Oregon

skol n' crossbikes

courtesy of the shamed Mr Muir, yes you Mr Muir!

So, where *did* you learn those moves?

NSFW.

Mull.

So. Mull. Finish work. Throw warm gear in car. Pick up Chipps. Drive into the night, car cranked to metal.

Ferry. Meet the rest of the southern Scottish vcm'ers and head over the sea to Mull.

Drive carefully on the frosty ground to the welcoming and warm embrace of Davie Graham. Break a tooth, eat splendid curry, drink too much beer, fall asleep fetally at 4am. Awake to a pristine day and head to the castle of Glengorm. The course in fine fettle, fast people were fast, slow people were slow and there were lots of snapped derailleurs.

Back, shower, comfort food and out to a ceilidh at Aros hall with some locals and the rest of the crossers. Some partook more than others but the season was seen off in fine style.

Out on sunday for another fine and crispy race. More derailleurs were lost, but the season was done and after the prizes a few faces fell at the prospect of another year to go before we again don the colours for cross.

Thankyou to all the sponsors, the ds (mr duncan) and the rest of the VC Moulin family who have made this a season to remember.

Kielder 100 2010

Hi everyone,

Having stated that 2009 was always going to be a write off when it comes to riding and racing due to a busy year and the birth of my daughter who has DS. I've kicked off my 2010 race campaign this evening with a positive start as I mean to go on attitude, I've gone and entered the K100. Crikey! Think I will start my training on the 2nd of January!!

Good luck to all you lucky buggers on Mull this weekend, I will be there next year you can baleed dat.

Laatste ronde Wereldbeker Koksijde

Laatste ronde Wereldbeker Koksijde

The Sand God's! a must see for all VCM's something we can all look forward to, Surly a wee trip next year

A hard 50mins

photo taking by phunkt.com

A hard 50mins, Looking at the course I just knew before I started that I was gonna have find some kind off new running muscles, even thou my pins were feeling good. After watching Andy Whippet Wardman floating round to 2nd and Nelly to 3rd in the open race.

(nearly losing my voice because of screaming on nelly to get his ass into gear) Then it was me and John,

we started the race with the idea that we would run the first part, which would have worked for me if some

fellow crosser had not jumped on ma heels, making me land both knee's straight into a good 15 inches of mud.

Well yet again it was bad start. So it's a case of breathing out off every hole in your body to get your place back.

Which I managed to do, and nearly got up to a good group. But the old running legs if I had any where nae up to much.

So I settled for where I was, with a stride to come back next year stronger and faster.

Anyway Mull coming up so there is still something to play for boy's and girls.

Yours Miffae de Muir

Stick a fork in my arse, turn me over, I'm done.

After too many weekends of traveling to ride, it felt decadent to just ride from the door. Delayed by faff, route dithering and apathy that a 6-cup pot of espresso couldn't dispel, the pale Winter sky drew me through the door.

With the trails reduced to deepest chod, a road ride would be just the thing to awaken slumbering legs. With brain and iPod set to random I set off with no aim other than to earn my supper and ride a few new B-roads spotted some way off connecting the well-known.

You choose to do hill-reps in the Chilterns by leaving the house for a road ride and today I felt particularly masochistic too. Many of the roads were awash in rain-driven detritus; wood, gravel, road-kill and mud. Fields full of ripe egg-sized flints ready for harvest. Tail-wind, head-wind, tail-wind. Startled deer. Many, many kites. Special dusk light.

The weather held, the follow-my-nose route had a typically saw-tooth profile and the last miles ridden in the dark were spent planning a large risotto in great detail.

Deep bath, supper, fire-piled high. Stick a fork in my arse, turn me over, I'm done.

An apology to the Moulin Massive

What can I say. There I was staring at the proofs for issue 15 of Rouleur magazine. It was deadline bound and I was being hounded for captions to the images. I sat there staring at a shot from last year's Mull race. From high up, looking across the running stream of the first day and over the ocean to the isles beyond. The sun had just broken through the clouds. Do you remember that bit?

I thought, can I see Skye from here can't I? That thought was in my head so much that I wrote it down. Of course, when I phoned the printer to tell them they could only tell me that those pages had gone to press. FUCK! So apologies people. I take full shame. On the plus side there are beaucoup cross images in the issues from Crossvegas, Belgium and UK and cross on the cover.

I'm shuffling out now.......

shades of delirium

delirium pic by Andy Wardman

Defection

It is time to move on. I have had a fantastic year racing in The VCM colours, it has been an honour and a privilege.

After alot of thinking and some more thinking I am defecting over to ride for Morvelo A clothing company started by a very good friend from university. I will miss the pimping white skinsuit, I might not miss having to scrub it clean three times after a race!

I look forward to seeing you all again at a race soon.

Cheers for the good times.
-Phil

he-huff

photo by Mark Forrest

damn that should have been my skinsuit, the big man grinds out another fine result, black bike+white tape=proper etiquette.

Gareth building his new bike.....

Champion

After today I am a Selkirk High School popodom eatting champion. 15 popodoms in 1 min. We all have to be good at something. Not sure if this is a well know training method! See you all for sand sea and ...... wind and rain!!

It hurts so good

Dundee SCX 7
It's been both a long and a quick year and all of a sudden with a mere 5 Scottish cross races left I decided I had to try and salvage something, for my own sanity as much as anything else. I won't bore you with my aborted attempt to ride the previous two weeks races at Knockburn and Inverkeithing but lets just say I hit a pretty low point, regarding bike and fitness and just a sense of why the fuck am I even bothering and so Sunday rolled around and round 7 of the SCX came to Dundee, a mere hour drive for me, virtually a local race and my first race of the year, coming straight off the back of not riding for 2 weeks and the aforementioned despair it was a high risk strategy, the drama queen in me could easily let this boil out of control while my head imploded and as if that wasn’t bad enough all day Saturday I had what can best be described (for the sake of not repulsing you) as an upset tummy. The rest of Saturday was a mish-mash of trying to find all the stuff needed for a cross race, which in light of the race duration seems like an awful lot of equipment, clothing and assorted paraphernalia.
Sunday morning arrived all to quickly and I would be lying if I said I felt comfortable, a rough nights sleep, a churning gut and the niggling thought that I was for all intense purposes about to make a grade A twat out of myself. I had only ridden at Caird Park once before, that time a couple of years ago the course was long and lacked the closeness of a cross race, it quickly spread out and stayed that way. This year on arriving I assessed the course, it looked very short took in a lap of the velodrome and had a healthy dose of off camber, singletrack and multiple switchbacks, before I could have second thoughts I got signed on and received my voucher for a free soup and a roll, excellent. It felt like a long walk back to the car involving lots of blethers and nervous banter, everyone was looking so bloody fit and organised. I started to try and sort out my kit, a Mule bar and a bottle of Nuun, quickly downed and allowed to churn around like primordial soup. A half hearted warm up and before I knew it I was out on my practice lap with Maddy. It rode pretty good, nothing to fear, it will boil quite literally down to how fast I could ride. The start line beckoned and I opted for safety first and gridded up at the back of the pack, a misfire on the starting pistol didn't bother anyone, we were off. The usual melee for the front was somewhat diffused by the lap of the velodrome, I dug my way through the field to what felt like around half way, quickly we were spat out onto the grass and vying for position on the singletrack. First laps are curious beasts and this one didn't disappoint, riders shot past then ground to halt, others fell, braked too early and just got it wrong, staying on your bike and keeping a calm head usually reaps rewards and so it did, through all the mucky stuff I picked off a few more riders and settled as best as I could into a rhythm. As the laps unfolded, the race at the front was long gone but surprisingly I could still see plenty of familiar faces, Maddy got away being a bit lighter through the grungy stuff and spurred on by the battle she was having for second place. All too soon the bell rang and I dug in to get round without losing any more ground, finished I was somewhat elated, that was bloody good and a hot cup of veggie broth never tasted so good. The split race also allowed time to get changed and watch the seniors racing into the bargain, an awesome return to cross for me and an awesome race, a classic is born.

pic by Marty or Sue

How to roll a front tub and stay on your feet!

looked a fast and furious race at the GVA Hasselt, chuffed to see Stybar finally get a win this season.

what caught my eye though was Sven Nys rolling a front tub and managing not to crash! how the hell did he do that??

Verslag van de Jaarmarktcross in Niel

Verslag van de Jaarmarktcross in Niel

Yet more euro Cross

Inverkeithing Sufferfest

Photo by steadyboats

Is everyone trying to forget the pain then?

Sunday's Scottish Cyclocross race at Inverkeithing was one of the toughest, muddiest cx races I can remember. Not since the last race held at Sighthill Park in Glasgow has my bike weighed nearly as much as me at the end of a race.

Still, I secretly quite liked it. Whether it was the mud at the far end of the course that made a funny farty noise when you ran through it or the cheese and pickle toastie in the cafe that made me forget about the pain, I don't recall.

Results are still due, but conditions took out 33.3% of the plucky VCM starters. Toughen up for next time a bit lads.

On to Dundee next weekend. I hear that we're going to be using the track - just like the Roubaix World Cup round...

Verslag Superprestige Gavere

Verslag Superprestige Gavere

Reminds me of sunday.

Mud Mud Mud and more Mud