Saab-Salomon Mountain Mayhem/Clunker Classic 2006
Barone von Evilgoat

Two consecutive weekends; two races; two different styles of event; two things for certain: we're going to ache and we're going to Rock!

Weekend and race no. 1 was the Saab Salomon Mountain Mayhem or SSMM, henceforth known as The Red Bull(we're old fashioned and remember its roots, see.) The venue had improved massively over the old Sandwell Park flat fields and Brum Scum bike thievery. Eastnor Park had hills, views, and Herefordshire countryside. A massive festival-like atmosphere confronted us as we rolled in on saturday morning, hunting for the pitch Pimp had reserved on friday night and the rest of my team. I hadn't initially intended to do this event, but James was short of a man on his Triumph Motorcycles team, and he sent me ever-more abusive texts until I gave in.

Twenty four hour race virgin Alex was forced to kick off for us. We're so evil! But he looked fit and was younger than us and didn't know what he was letting himself in for... The remaining team decided running order in a exceptionally polite gentlemanly argument.. "after you squire." "no after you, I insist!" "no sir, after you!" etc.... until one of us really had to go and ride. I ended up third, (runner up in argument) and rode a good first lap, scoping lines and boiling under the blazing sun on the long, grassy, Kenda climb. Lap two flew by and i felt better and rode faster. Then it was dark and riding in the dark rocked so hard. I felt like a riding god! Catching and overtaking in the singletrack and coming in only a couple of minutes behind a day lap.

The Gods of lap time, course and team position conspired to send me out for a double lap at 4.30am, which was shared with Pimp in a "Banditos own the course" manner. Amid much early morning pro/(dul)lite rider heckling and Pimp trying to recruit new employees on the long climbs we had much fun. And the laps flew by. I was riding better and feeling stronger than any previous 24. I was Jack Bauer! Come on you pesky stereotype middle eastern terrorists and double agents, I will destroy you singlehandedly whilst saving my exceptionally fit daughter from the ne'er'do'wells that hang around the house like flies around a turd...

For me the race finished at just before 1 pm after 2 further sunday laps, which were getting progressively harder, as body parts started to hurt just trying to maintain a consistent pace. That final lap resulted in heartburn which put me off my post ride beer (oh the shame!) and remained until bed time. But it was worth it for the effort! Hurrah! And a Huge Hurrah for the almighty Pit Bitches who kept us fuelled and maintained the finest 24 support set up I have ever seen!

A full five days of rest was taken before i was deposited on a train heading for Luton, (scum central) where I was collected by the Duke and Eddie for the classic Bandito road trip out west. Mission: Clunker Classic 5. A combination of guilt (saying we were going for the last 3 years and not making it) and my forthcoming pre-wedding festivities led us to make this trip, and what an event it turned out to be.

Pimp was collected from his secret Pimpsonette and his bike for the event from an area 51 bunker/lock up, hiding some all time classic bikes including a full campag equipped 753 Peugeot road bike. Awesome. A quick pitstop at Tescos for fruit, condiments and spirits and we were off. Duke blasted his black shuttle out down the M4 and M5, and we arrived in Porlock in the stealthly early hours. A combination of a clear starry night and a can't-be-arsed attitude left the tent in the car and us sleeping under the stars. Only slightly interrupted at 5am when Duke wanted to get us up for a bacon butty.

Sat morning revealed a field full of Clunketters and people committed to last minute fettling of usless brakes and loose bits. Only then was my vehicle for the race was finally revealed to me.... a pink girls bike called Louise, with 16" wheels and handlebar tassles. Lack of clearance between knees and bars meant the pedals and cranks had to go, I was vying for Nowt Speed world champion!

The race started at noon at the Ship Inn in Porlock, we were there sharpish. Some fine local ales were priming us up and a bit of lunch to fuel for the big climb. Some time later we were off, quick photoshoot en route and we commenced the climb to the start line. 4 miles of uphill on a plenty hot day left us all with raging thirst, luckily we brought cold lager and enough tequila to fuel the field. At the pre-race picnic we ensured that everyone had at least 1 shot of Mexican Downhill Juice, we hoped this made up for our previous no shows!

The race was started with the classic Le Mans start and bike mix up combo. As the leaders disappeared into the distance I held people up on the singletrack with my small wheels and insufficient brakes. The first accident I came upon was a member of Team Reg being hauled from a ravine by Team Reg's team doctor. (A bit like that Spanish guy who treats Ullrich but with harder drugs.) I left them water and hit the trail.

Not longer further on I see a prostrate Pimp beside the trail and Duke administering first aid. Seems the Pimp was riding like he stole it, lost the front and impaled his stomach on the brake lever. Good work fella! Duke took delight in informing me that he had to poke some fat back in. After checking he was OK I went on to the finish, charging stream crossings and racing through the streets of Porlock accompanied by a smell of burning brake blocks, to finish as officially the second best Nowt Speeder in the world!

A quick regroup with Eddie and we headed on back up to find our team-mates and get ambulance updates. Both Pimp and the Team Reg Ravine Legend were loaded up by super understanding paramedics and hauled off to the alternative finish line at Minehead A&E. Collecting them both later seemed like a cracking excuse to get take away curry and we returned to Porlock to be given heroes welcomes by the Clunketters. Hurrah!

The prize giving followed, with much play off's for hotly contested trophies in the form of jousts, sumo and stag ruts. We came home with a couple of trophies for our efforts. Huzzah!

The evening rounded off with some Derbying resulting in Reg making a visit to the fine people at Minehead A&E, the freak bike circus, fire breathing and round of plastic night golf.

Next year the Banditos will return in greater numbers with more tequila, madder bikes and their own first aid kit. Big up to the non-organisers and Charlie, Reg, Kaiser and all the fine clunketters!

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Pre-race carbo loading.

You're going home in a fookin' ambulance...