I’d recommend grabbing a beverage of choice before reading this as it’s going to be a long one.
So, Beaumont Trophy was my first ever UCI event but having done a couple of Premiere calendar races already this season I knew roughly what to expect. The race consisted of one 22 km lap followed by four 33 km laps which went over the top 100 climb known as Ryals, finally finishing with a final lap of the short circuit, totalling 185 km.
The race was also doubly hindered by a heat wave, with the average temperature of the race over 25 degrees it was what can only be described as a scorcher. I tend not to perform too well in the heat so I knew I’d have to eat and drink smart to limit my weaknesses. The only saving grace was that there was basically no wind.
Warming up I was pretty nervous but I really wanted to finish this one. Having never finished a prem and after having a shocker at Holme Valley Wheelers last week I wasn’t too optimistic of my chances, but as I always say “Good days and bad days”.
I knew the race was going to be a different level when for the first time ever we had French commissaires.
My warm up was brightened quite a bit when Harry Tanfield came up to me to chat. We talked about his efforts at the TDY and about his brother doing well. I’m not sure if he thought I was someone else or not, but either way it was nice to speak to him.
For this race we didn’t have enough supporters in the feed zone. To combat the heat we decided to carry a third bottle in our jersey pockets which was a brilliant call.
With 156 starters the road was rammed and moving up felt even harder than in a standard premiere calendar race. The first lap wasn’t too bad as I just tucked in nicely trying to move up where possible but I couldn’t get anywhere near the front. The pace was consistently fast as riders kept attacking and driving the pace but I just rode smart and hid from the wind. It did feel a bit sketchy though, with quite a lot of hard breaking and surging. I jettisoned my jersey bottle in the hedges at the feed zone after the first lap.
Towards the start of the second lap a large group of riders managed to get off the front, releasing the peloton from its stress. Just after this happened we went over a narrow badly surfaced bridge and a full 750 ml bottle popped out of my cage, maybe the worst thing to have ever happened.
About 5 km before the Ryals I’d been warned about a very narrow section of road so I got myself into the first third of the pack as we hit it. And we hit it hard. We were fully lined out, single file smashing it down this narrow gravelly road at full gas. The group started to splinter and I was in the second group with no chance of moving up. Fortunate the road widened at the base of the climb and the two groups came back together quickly.
The group never seemed to actually smash the climb but with slopes of 22% it’s always going to be hard. I got into alight gear and overtook everyone I could, getting over the climb in one piece. Once over the top it was clear that the group had split again and I was in the second split. Great…
However, with a gradually descending road afterwards a few big dogs chased them down and we came back together. The bunch seemed to ease off chasing the break and we were cruising along nicely as more and more groups bridged back to us. It was at this moment when I was sat on Olympic champion Ed Clancy’s wheel going 60 kph on the flat which really let me know I was with the big boys.
It was all going well, I was in the peloton and feeling good, when suddenly there was the howling of breaks. Crash. Fuck, right in front of me. Break. Wheel locked. Stop… Foot down. Phew safe. Wait what’s this? Oh that’s someones handle bars in my rear wheel. Great.
It’s the first time I’ve been involved in a crash in ages but I was surprised at my racing reflexes. I simply got off my bike took out and reinserted my rear wheel and sorted out the chain all in about 20 seconds and I was back on riding.
By this point though the peloton had gone and my chase back in began. I rode hard for a minute or two before looking behind and seeing a large group approaching. Once they caught me I sat in and three Neon Velo riders bridged the gap to the peloton as I fumbled a bottle in the feed zone leaving me with only the dregs of my last bottle for the next 35 km.
It was during this lap that my bike began making a racket. Every pothole we hit it made a disgusting noise. I presumed it just meant my rear wheel was trashed and I planned to swap it out at the feed zone if possible.
About 10 km from the base of the Ryals, I was in 40th wheel going up a small climb when there was yet another crashing front of me. I managed to ride on the grass and get around in the front split but Kieran wasn’t so lucky, hitting the deck hard ending his race and giving him a trip to the race doctor with some nasty cuts.
The pace wasn’t too high after this as we let it regroup, but me being at the front meant I was incredibly well positioned for the narrow section, which again was drilled. We hit the base of the Ryals and the intensity once again shot up but I’d brought my climbing legs today and got over the climb in the front split. Giving me a rest as everyone else chased us down. By this point the break had like 4 minutes on us but it still felt good climbing with these guys.
My bike was still making disgusting noises at every pothole and it was then that I saw my front skewer was open. Jesus. If my wheel comes out that’s me down. I calmly reached down to tighten it, but it’s a two-hand job that I just couldn’t manage while riding. I knew I needed to stop and decided the best place was at the feed zone. Luckily, I made it there in one piece and stopped at Paddy’s dad who put in two new bottles as I sorted out my wheel.
I did a sterling job and was away very quickly and it was only a 2 minute effort before I’d chased myself back in for the second time.
At this point we were over half way and I was feeling surprisingly good. This was my forte now, a severely reduced bunch with battered legs. With all my teammates in groups further down I sat in 15th wheel and kept safe. By the time we got the Ryals the group had swelled a bit but I was towards the front and made it over the climb in the top10, making everyone chase me down.
At the feed zone Kieran was there and I tossed him my now empty bottles and took one from him. It was his bottle from before he crashed and unfortunately it was only about 200 ml which I was grateful for but it wasn’t ideal. Alas I kept towards the front of the peloton as no one really did any work and the gap to the break increased.
It was when it was all calm and good when disaster struck. Psssssstt. To which I went “is that me?” It was. Rear flat. Brilliant, right as I was on my best day in ages. Our team car was close to the front only the 20th car in the convoy so I didn’t have to wait long at all… Joking aside he wasn’t far down as quite a lot moved to support the break.
Once I saw it I pulled over, took out my wheel and yelled “I need a rear”. At this moment both Paddy and Archie were there and Paddy being the saint he is gave me his rear wheel and Archie eased up to aid the chase. Once it was back in I set off in full TT mode and caught Archie. We pulled a few turns but it was a huge gap to close by ourselves.
Within a couple of minutes Ian in the team car had caught us up and I sat behind him and got a tow up a small drag. I was just depleting my reserves getting nowhere. Anyways after a significant tow I was back into the convoy and did a final hard effort to bridge to the remains of the peloton. This effort burnt my last match and as we hit the Ryals for the final time my legs gave way. Everything I’d saved for the final climb was wasted chasing back in and they rode away from me.
By the top of the climb I was beyond thirsty and there was a random woman with a bottle. I yelled “Please can Ihave one?” and being the shining star she was, she held one out for me to grab.Just before starting the final lap I was solo and as Ian (in the team car) passed me for the final time I said “I’m going to finish”. I passed through the finish line 10 minutes down on the winner, went through the feed zone picked up a final bottle and headed off for a final lap. I basically went as hard as I could without cramping up. By the end I was so far down that they were bringing in the signs, but I made it.
With a km to go I did up my jersey and rolled over the line. I finished 20 minutes down on the winner, possibly in last place. But I finished. I think it’s probably my best result ever. 185 km in an international professional race with being caught in a crash and puncturing on such a hot day I was thrilled to make it.
So, Beaumont Trophy was my first ever UCI event but having done a couple of Premiere calendar races already this season I knew roughly what to expect. The race consisted of one 22 km lap followed by four 33 km laps which went over the top 100 climb known as Ryals, finally finishing with a final lap of the short circuit, totalling 185 km.
The race was also doubly hindered by a heat wave, with the average temperature of the race over 25 degrees it was what can only be described as a scorcher. I tend not to perform too well in the heat so I knew I’d have to eat and drink smart to limit my weaknesses. The only saving grace was that there was basically no wind.
Warming up I was pretty nervous but I really wanted to finish this one. Having never finished a prem and after having a shocker at Holme Valley Wheelers last week I wasn’t too optimistic of my chances, but as I always say “Good days and bad days”.
I knew the race was going to be a different level when for the first time ever we had French commissaires.
My warm up was brightened quite a bit when Harry Tanfield came up to me to chat. We talked about his efforts at the TDY and about his brother doing well. I’m not sure if he thought I was someone else or not, but either way it was nice to speak to him.
For this race we didn’t have enough supporters in the feed zone. To combat the heat we decided to carry a third bottle in our jersey pockets which was a brilliant call.
With 156 starters the road was rammed and moving up felt even harder than in a standard premiere calendar race. The first lap wasn’t too bad as I just tucked in nicely trying to move up where possible but I couldn’t get anywhere near the front. The pace was consistently fast as riders kept attacking and driving the pace but I just rode smart and hid from the wind. It did feel a bit sketchy though, with quite a lot of hard breaking and surging. I jettisoned my jersey bottle in the hedges at the feed zone after the first lap.
Towards the start of the second lap a large group of riders managed to get off the front, releasing the peloton from its stress. Just after this happened we went over a narrow badly surfaced bridge and a full 750 ml bottle popped out of my cage, maybe the worst thing to have ever happened.
About 5 km before the Ryals I’d been warned about a very narrow section of road so I got myself into the first third of the pack as we hit it. And we hit it hard. We were fully lined out, single file smashing it down this narrow gravelly road at full gas. The group started to splinter and I was in the second group with no chance of moving up. Fortunate the road widened at the base of the climb and the two groups came back together quickly.
The group never seemed to actually smash the climb but with slopes of 22% it’s always going to be hard. I got into alight gear and overtook everyone I could, getting over the climb in one piece. Once over the top it was clear that the group had split again and I was in the second split. Great…
However, with a gradually descending road afterwards a few big dogs chased them down and we came back together. The bunch seemed to ease off chasing the break and we were cruising along nicely as more and more groups bridged back to us. It was at this moment when I was sat on Olympic champion Ed Clancy’s wheel going 60 kph on the flat which really let me know I was with the big boys.
It was all going well, I was in the peloton and feeling good, when suddenly there was the howling of breaks. Crash. Fuck, right in front of me. Break. Wheel locked. Stop… Foot down. Phew safe. Wait what’s this? Oh that’s someones handle bars in my rear wheel. Great.
It’s the first time I’ve been involved in a crash in ages but I was surprised at my racing reflexes. I simply got off my bike took out and reinserted my rear wheel and sorted out the chain all in about 20 seconds and I was back on riding.
By this point though the peloton had gone and my chase back in began. I rode hard for a minute or two before looking behind and seeing a large group approaching. Once they caught me I sat in and three Neon Velo riders bridged the gap to the peloton as I fumbled a bottle in the feed zone leaving me with only the dregs of my last bottle for the next 35 km.
It was during this lap that my bike began making a racket. Every pothole we hit it made a disgusting noise. I presumed it just meant my rear wheel was trashed and I planned to swap it out at the feed zone if possible.
About 10 km from the base of the Ryals, I was in 40th wheel going up a small climb when there was yet another crashing front of me. I managed to ride on the grass and get around in the front split but Kieran wasn’t so lucky, hitting the deck hard ending his race and giving him a trip to the race doctor with some nasty cuts.
The pace wasn’t too high after this as we let it regroup, but me being at the front meant I was incredibly well positioned for the narrow section, which again was drilled. We hit the base of the Ryals and the intensity once again shot up but I’d brought my climbing legs today and got over the climb in the front split. Giving me a rest as everyone else chased us down. By this point the break had like 4 minutes on us but it still felt good climbing with these guys.
My bike was still making disgusting noises at every pothole and it was then that I saw my front skewer was open. Jesus. If my wheel comes out that’s me down. I calmly reached down to tighten it, but it’s a two-hand job that I just couldn’t manage while riding. I knew I needed to stop and decided the best place was at the feed zone. Luckily, I made it there in one piece and stopped at Paddy’s dad who put in two new bottles as I sorted out my wheel.
I did a sterling job and was away very quickly and it was only a 2 minute effort before I’d chased myself back in for the second time.
At this point we were over half way and I was feeling surprisingly good. This was my forte now, a severely reduced bunch with battered legs. With all my teammates in groups further down I sat in 15th wheel and kept safe. By the time we got the Ryals the group had swelled a bit but I was towards the front and made it over the climb in the top10, making everyone chase me down.
At the feed zone Kieran was there and I tossed him my now empty bottles and took one from him. It was his bottle from before he crashed and unfortunately it was only about 200 ml which I was grateful for but it wasn’t ideal. Alas I kept towards the front of the peloton as no one really did any work and the gap to the break increased.
It was when it was all calm and good when disaster struck. Psssssstt. To which I went “is that me?” It was. Rear flat. Brilliant, right as I was on my best day in ages. Our team car was close to the front only the 20th car in the convoy so I didn’t have to wait long at all… Joking aside he wasn’t far down as quite a lot moved to support the break.
Once I saw it I pulled over, took out my wheel and yelled “I need a rear”. At this moment both Paddy and Archie were there and Paddy being the saint he is gave me his rear wheel and Archie eased up to aid the chase. Once it was back in I set off in full TT mode and caught Archie. We pulled a few turns but it was a huge gap to close by ourselves.
Within a couple of minutes Ian in the team car had caught us up and I sat behind him and got a tow up a small drag. I was just depleting my reserves getting nowhere. Anyways after a significant tow I was back into the convoy and did a final hard effort to bridge to the remains of the peloton. This effort burnt my last match and as we hit the Ryals for the final time my legs gave way. Everything I’d saved for the final climb was wasted chasing back in and they rode away from me.
By the top of the climb I was beyond thirsty and there was a random woman with a bottle. I yelled “Please can Ihave one?” and being the shining star she was, she held one out for me to grab.Just before starting the final lap I was solo and as Ian (in the team car) passed me for the final time I said “I’m going to finish”. I passed through the finish line 10 minutes down on the winner, went through the feed zone picked up a final bottle and headed off for a final lap. I basically went as hard as I could without cramping up. By the end I was so far down that they were bringing in the signs, but I made it.
With a km to go I did up my jersey and rolled over the line. I finished 20 minutes down on the winner, possibly in last place. But I finished. I think it’s probably my best result ever. 185 km in an international professional race with being caught in a crash and puncturing on such a hot day I was thrilled to make it.
