It took my a few minutes to dig the bike out and get my shoes on, but I was soon off and heading north. The traffic was very heavy and making my way toward the coast, my ride was hampered by traffic lights and people in cars living their retail lives. After Musselburgh High Street, I worked my way round to Wallyford and back to Dalkeith and then ended going up towards Lasswade. By the time I returned I had 20 miles on the clock and my daily thirst for mileage was sated.
It was a quiet Saturday night in the Perth Travelodge and I was up at the crack on Sunday for a 2 mile jog around Huntingtower. The mist was down and it was atmospheric and damp as I jogged around this fortified house with only a few crows for company. After a shower, it was porridge in a plastic tub and a yogurt for breakies. Donning my distinctive zebra-zigzag arm warmers, my monogrammed cycling gear and diamond cufflinks I was soon ready and it was off to Dundee for the 2022 Scottish Cyclo Cross Champs. When I was asked last week why I do cyclo-cross but not road racing on the bike, I answered that its because there are age related fields. With eighty or so 50's and 60's, there is no chance of coming up against some of the young guns and finding yourself out the back and isolated after 2 minutes. Instead, you get an experience that lasts long enough to enjoy and maintain the illusion that youre still a 'player'.
There was no commissionaire at the sign on tent to interrogate me as to why there is no photo on my licence card. No dramas. I collected my number after parking on the grass. Camperdown was chocca. It was cool and grey, but sheltering in the trees with the grey squirrels looking on perplexed by the whole affair, the course appeared straightforward with a couple of sandpits but no obvious bits for running.
After the kids, we were on, mid morning. I was gridded near the back and were soon off and belting down the finishing straight. There were a couple of other guys from the club riding, and one nipped in front of me shortly after the start. The sheer temerity of the move made me smile as did the white rimmed googles he was hiding behind. However, I was soon back in front and chasing Jim Foulis (Dundee Wheelers) whom I'd met at Irvine the previous week. I nearly stayed in touch with him, and even managed to pass a Falkirk rider just before the finish. It was a most enjoyable 40 minutes of off-roading and I'm sure my confidence at attacking off-camber bends and slippy bits is rising with every race. I still managed to derail myself in one of the sandpits, but I'm learning. If I trained I might improve, but reports of my impending retirement were premature - I'm still ploughing that dull furrow during the week.
Finishing toward the back again, the bike wasn't too mucky and I retired to the Tartan coffee shop on Perth Road for a haggis and mango pannini (yes, really) and a pot of steaming tea. Top trip. Its Bo'ness next weekend after the Cross Country at Durham.
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