Car trouble this week. The car itself was fine. It would have passed its MOT if it hadn't been for the fiendish array of fancy sensors that it carries. They failed. Its gonna be an arm and a leg again. Ouch. kerching.
The immediate upshot of this, however, was that the Volvo team bus was grounded and I had to scrounge another car for the weekend trip to the West Coast. We had put our names down for the West of Scotland Cross Country on the Saturday at Erskine. This was followed by the Scottish National Cyclo-Cross Championships on Sunday to be held at Irvine. The borrowed car was, lets just say, 'modest', in the room department. We could fit 4 adults in. We could fit their bags and shoes in. We could even fit in the 2 dogs. However, there was no room for the cross bike or associated fittings, spare wheels and associated paraphernalia. Not, that is, without buying a roof rack. On the basis that I wasn't ever going to be in the top half of the field at the 'cross it wasn't such a big deal. A loss of twenty five notes. We still had the accommodation booked for the Saturday night in Irvine, not to mention an evening meal booked at the Ship (so I won't mention that). The Harbourside in the old town is surprisingly Bohemian; well, OK, some places might have visions of grandeur, but that's not a bad thing if it pulls the rest of the place up.
The Saturday trip up the M74 was only punctuated by a tea and scone stop at the Warwick Bridge Cafe. We arrived without drama at Erskine and parked up. The junior races were in full swing. It was strangely mild which was a bonus. Cat cleared off to get her number and warmed up. I wandered around with M and the dog, all of us stretching our legs. It looked a good course. Last year at Strathaven I had to pull out around halfway due to a tightening calf. This year I had my eye on an adversary in the same age group. Cat was offski and I warmed up shouting encouragement. She finished 5th and had to work hard for it.
I lined up with shorts, vest and spikes. I was near the front. Start as you mean to go on. After the gun, I settled into the middle of the lengthening pack. There was no sign of the target for the day, so I ploughed on ahead. It was a three lapper, 7.5k affair.
Come the start of the second lap I was caught and passed by an old bloke. He didn't seem to be breathing hard, but I was certain he was in my age group. I stuck with him for the second lap, but the string snapped at the start of the 3rd and final lap and he drifted off ahead, but not very far ahead. I tucked in behind a tall young Ayr bloke and he towed me to the line. I was done in. Full gas and the bottle had been emptied; the gas purged.
After catching my breath, I jogged back to the tent. The wind was picking up and it was time to change and make for the car. I said my goodbyes to the good folk at the Bella club and we took off, getting down the road to Irvine. The results service these days is pretty amazing what with live results and all. Not so long ago it could take days before a pdf or excel sheet of results appeared somewhere on the web. Turns out I was 1st M60 and the old bloke who passed me, whom I was sure was even older than me, was, in fact, quite a bit younger. Really? Well, blow me down with a feather. Nice to get a result, even if the competition wasn't all there. Then again, neither am I.
It was a slap up feed at the Ship and bed before 9pm. Cat took me on a splendid 9 miler on the Sunday Morning and we had a nice brunch at Go - also on the harbourside. All good. Thanks to A & M for the foties and support.
There's still time to do a couple of crosses. I finished one last weekend at Hetton Lyons and it was as daft and as good fun as I recall.
