The Painting Man Cogitates On His New Life In M3

A splendid random guest blog - A brutally hijacked and copy/pasted letter from the mighty Painting Man to the Godfather... reminiscing on his recent M3 National Title and why on earth he and Marco are not in the Bushlove Team.


Ian Paintin scores a massage from multisport legend, Liam 'Vin Diesel' Drew after the Nats race.



Dear Marco.....


I trust the legs are well, no doubt due to the minimal resistance your carbon wafer presents even on the steepest hills.

Now is a good time to look back on the last two weeks of riding.

It started with our [mild] collective disappointment on learning our applications to join Bushlove were rejected.

I took matters into my own hands and reasoned the highly organized corps would have left a paper trail as to their decision. Much like the Germans who could have got away with a lot more had they not written about it.

It was easy to hack the Bushlove server, quaintly named TiggerBite. Two folders were scrutinized. One, labelled Wishful, is a collection of podium shots with various Bushlove heads superimposed on real winners. No doubt this is some team building tool to extol the boys to higher things. Drawing on my agricultural upbringing, and armed with Photoshop, I contributed some other shots taken from best in show at the A&P.

The other folder, named The Staring Committee, yielded the good oil. I thought it was a typo but no, the first order of business is to stare at Ricky's calves and then measure them, expressed as a ratio of F A [flaccid to aroused]. Apparently, my numerous cruise by approaches on Ricky during races has really got to the team; they want to know why riders like you and I, with legs that if on a chicken, would be rejected by Tegal, can monster those calves with impunity.

So, here is the rub so to speak. We are simply too good for our age. Being old enough to have sired some of them, our ability to beat them is causing grief. No doubt by adding in some handy road riders at the younger end they can address this problem over time.

I did not want to discuss this aspect with you prior to the National Champs as you would only have got upset.

I thought the best approach was to do my normal Ricky sidle somewhere during the race just to prove the point. I was equally interested in how some riders got their nick names. [Mono would have to wait until the after-race hot shower]. Take Angry for example. Seems like a well mannered chap not prone to outbursts. My plan was simple, I'd keep on his date during the hill climb; perhaps being stoned or pitted was the background to his moniker.

I had not counted on Mr Lawn. He got between me and Angry so with a burst of elderly zest I climaxed at the summit before he did. A nifty piece of passing on the ski slope had Lawny in front again. "Tricky" I called out; "No, Ricky" he responded. Hmmm, where was this race going? True, they both lacked the lush facial hair I sported; more a few tufts here and there. Perhaps this was some club I was also excluded from?

No, I could not consider reducing my foliage to join this picnic. Had I not preloaded it with the main food groups during breakfast as race fare? And had not Rob Kilvington been mightily impressed pre-race when I uncoiled my tongue to lick a sideboard?

With Lawny on a mission to ensnare Ricky I settled in to go hunting Angry men.

Later I learned that Lawny lay in wait, draped provocatively in the long grass by the water tower hoping to impress Ricky. I now wonder what DNF actually means; did they not consummate? No wonder when I passed Ricky on the second lap he was a distraught man.

The second lap had Bushlove spies at work on the ski jump. I was "warned" that Angry was less than a minute ahead. I laughed this off, referring to my M3 classification, but knew that I was sprung. After all, second place in M2 was behind me so the natural order was already upset.

I did briefly consider ingratiating myself with some of the worthy Bushlove foot soldiers post race. Jason Goldie did introduce me to his youngest and there was an awkward moment where I thought it was obligatory to kiss the baby. Thankfully, he was mid stream in bringing up what recently had been down, so I felt the moment was not right.

I probably did us no favours on the Karapoti either; a mild push on the road coming home from the training ride had me in 22 seconds before Angry's time. Not very subtle I know but I could not help myself. Heck, it was only last year that I had been what Angry is now; the M2 National Champion and the old dog needed to growl a bit.

Your best bet for inclusion, Marco, is to disassociate yourself from me and perhaps not be so damned good.

ciao

Ian

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Karapoti - Bushlove's Epic Akatawara Antics

Hot on the heels of the National Champs was the 25th edition of New Zealand’s most famous race - The Karapoti. Bushlove had a keen squad of mostly old people in the main 50km race and young-gun Alex Bennett in the Kid's Race. A full cheering squad of smokescreens was in attendance, with Mrs Mono, Mrs Potter, a heavily pregnant (due on the day) Mrs Tiger, the Bennett whanau and The Mailman.

Executive Summary for those who care little for our indulgent blog posts:

Bushlove takes Team award.
Goldie – 6th Overall – 2hr31
Mono – 7th Overall – 2hr32
Harry Potter – 8th Overall – 2hr33
Tiger – M1 3rd – 2hr37
Angry – M2 3rd – 2hr45
Slacky – 2hr48
Waghorn – 2hr55
Davo – 1st Retro – 2hr56

Even with a good smattering of epic spills all the boys gave a good account of themselves, with top dogs getting so close to the 20’s.

Congrats to all the racers who braved the course and thanks to all the marshals. If there is nothing on TV and the other websites are broken, feel free to continue through these silly reports:


Mailman The Spectator

After my epic rib-breaking freeride rampage, I was benched for Karapoti this year. But all was not lost, I got to partake in some proelite spectating with the Bushlove smokescreens. My day included providing last minute motivational advice (aka abuse as riders crossed the river and heading up the road to the Karapoti gorge), protecting smokescreens from feral coffee cart ladies (Mrs Potter would have been attacked by the Wicked Witch of the coffee cart if I didn't step in), helping plan the future careers of junior cyclists (after Alex Bennett's storming race debut - Well done Angry Junior!) and partaking in a bit of proelite eating (hot chips, donuts and all the Nature Valley muesli bars I could get my hands on - yummy!).
While I have enjoyed watching and supporting at the Karapoti this year, I really do prefer a bit of freeride rampage. Can't wait to get back on the bike, because if I don't I'm on my way to being the Bushlove BMI champ (mmm where did I put that icecream...).

Nick goes pro

Karapoti was to be my first ever PRO ELITE race and I was more than a little nervous. Lining up with the big guns of NZ mountain biking I felt like a fraud, after all I didn’t have the shop kit, sponsors, coach, NZ bike licence, goals (wtf are they?), training program, placebo pants, spare time or carbon fibre wunderbike. Befitting my completely unpro status my race was full of PRO ELITE fails but I still managed to pull off a cracking result of 8th overall, 7th in Pro elite. They even gave me prize money to buy a pro-size Snickers milkshake at Fidels. Just sifting pro elite stylz ftw.

I won’t bore you with all the details so I’ll just give you my highlights:

*Lining up in the river for the gun. So pointless, but so Karapoti classic.
*Steaming up the gorge in the chasing pack.
*Not getting dropped OTA on the first climb as expected.
*Uphill RAMPAGE on the Devils Staircase. (Being completely non pro I’m very used to walking)
*Getting to follow Mono for parts of the race. Even my Mrs was checking him out after the race. Fair enough.
*Bushlove man-train of Goldie, Mono and Myself steaming down Bigring to Dopers. I can only imagine it was like an Il Treno Delore ride except we all had clothes on and there wasn’t a bar of soap in sight.
*Having an epic high speed spill on Dopers bending my bars around and ripping some chunks of skin off my legs and shoulders (actually in retrospect not such a highlight) *The support of the BLR babes (and babe for the day - BGA) at the finish.

Pretty happy with a 2:33.23 in proper Karapoti conditions. With such a PRO ELITE result surely now I’ll be beating off the sponsors. (All enquires to Leonidas of Sparta press secretary subject line: "I want Nicks hinge").

Davo

Retro stylze on my refurbished '89 Nishiki Ariel. Tange frame and rigid fork with elevated stays, full original Deore DX groupo, Tioga T-Boner stem, front derailleur pulley fabricated from freshly minted English tuppenny coins. Toe clips and straps of course. Epic Retro Radness. Bike review coming soon.

Paddled slowly across river; spent 20mins getting into toe-clips; up gorge at medium weekend warrior pace; climbed badly; walked a bit; descended out of control; got to Rockgarden, locked toestraps down hard to ensure full commitment; RAMPAGED down all drops, dropping a few riders as I ping-ponged off the rocks; got to easy bit, went over bars, feet locked to pedals, feasted on Shit Sandwich; lay on face under bike, managed to reach toe straps to release the buckles; ambled up Staricase carrying farm gate; hooned Bigring Boulevard; climbed Dopers like old people have sex; epic calf cramps in river, straps locked tight, fell like chopped tree, for well needed bath; crossed line Sub-3 as fantasized about FTretroW. Marco calculates that every second he beat me by, cost him $250.

Mono's Sandbag Story

After a fairly shithouse race on Mt Vic last weekend I'd been looking forward to Karapoti - no illness or crashes in the week before the race was a good start. After faffing about too long I completely missed any kind of warmup or any such pro nonsense. Got away from the river crossing well and led the race up the road towards the dirt. Dropped my chain off the inside of the chainring (somehow?!) not far into the gorge, so had to get off and get it back into place - not a big deal in itself, but I lost touch with the front bunch, and had to smash myself over to catch back up. Caught a bunch of about 8 not far before the warmup climb, but the leaders were long gone. Felt meh on the warmup climb, and pretty average on Deadwood. Got my uphill steam on somewhere after the staircase though, and felt pretty strong. That lasted until about 1/3 of the way up Dopers. I temporarily HATED running a single ring on the 29er as Goldfinger slowly pulled away from me. Finished up 7th in 2:32. Was keen on digging into the 2:20 region. Next year.

Summing up my race: Satisfactory. Could try harder.

Private Wagger Reports For Duty

I had an average start after scoffing some last minute pies, maybe 20th out of the creek. I scooted up the warmup and Deadwood without any trouble. Traffic was a bit of a nuisance. The nice thing about a bad start is you get to pass people all day, especially in the old codgers yardarm-don't-start-till-near-lunch grade. Mmm lunch. I was so focused ripping down the Rock Garden that I didn't notice I'd passed another Bushie. Wasn't until the bottom when I paused for a cuppa, that I placed the Angry salute of "Oi Waghorn!" I'd heard amongst the rocks. I exited the staircase about 20 metres behind Angry and continued to get distant glimpses of those fine CHAMP calves all the way to the top of Dopers. I felt pretty good up Dopers, mostly middle chainring, no cramp. Then just over the top I had a good old roly poly romp with the bike. A little bit of me on top, a little bit of bike on top. When I came to a satisfied stop on the dead straight, wide but quite slippery clay wet patch, my front wheel looked like a porcupine wearing a hoola hoop. The spokes are supposed to stay attached to both the hub AND the rim. I twisted the loosies up and it still turned through the fork but there was no tension in any spokes except the one that holds my back end together: can you say ‘pucker’? I gingerly rode the Dopers descent and gorge with my front end flopping about more than Davo after 2 beers. Despite that I enjoyed the day and shared in the Bushlove glory, cheers guys!

National Champ - Angry Bushlove

Karapoti 2010 is a tough race and the injury count high. My Doctors had informed me if I monged myself or got any sort of graze around my knee area they would cancel my long awaited knee operation. I decided to go ahead and race.

I hoped for a dry day but it wasn’t too be, another wet ‘Poti was on the cards, so I lined up next to the other double olds in M2 and we took off down the gorge, three of us building a lead pretty early on, no surprises that was Trevor Woodward, Nick Warring and myself. Trevor is impressive how he scythes through the traffic from Senior men and M1, the track is littered with people grovelling up the climbs. On the first descent someone crashed right in front of me and I steamed off the side to avoid it and Trevor and Nick were gone.

I only know one line down Rockgarden so played it safe and had to walk with the rest of the trampers. No epic rampage was to be had until Waghorn steamed right down the middle. That oldie really has the skillz.

Onto Devils and I kept checking back for Waggers, as I had re-passed him just before. I thought Trevor and Nick were long gone until I spotted Nick Warring up ahead, so we chased each other back and forth till we hit Dopers and I had the lead. Nick caught me before the summit and I caught him again on the descent. It went like this all the way to the finish line. I was first into the last river crossing but took the lower line and was up to my waist, Nick took the sensible line and beat me by 6 seconds, however we both lost to Trevor who finished in 2:41, with myself and Nick in 2:45. All the same pretty stoked with that as its 15 mins off my race PB despite the weather and traffic. Also I lost my sunglasses on course, so to win a new pair for 3rd was nice form. Karapoti takes away, but also delivers.

On the Sunday I took my final ride for a while with my son Alex up at Makara, that’s me done for the year really. This is the National Champ signing off.

Alex Bushlove

I lined up for some epic freeride rampage in the Year 3/4 (Ages 7 & 8) category of the kidz race. I have a father who is a National Champ, in case you didn’t know, so I knew I would smash this field right open. The race briefing said it wasn’t a race and participation was what it was all about. I lulzed at this as my Dad always comes first, at least that’s what Mums says.
Anyway the race started and I smashed it up the road and was in the lead bunch of 5 riders! Quickly into the river crossing at the end of the gorge, back down the gorge again and into the farm areas where I steamed a 10 year old, and over the finish line for 4th in a sub 19mins which is where its at for the kidz race. Next year I plan to smash my National Champ Dad, who’s so hot right now, very handsome and not at all ghey.

SlackBoy (Bushlove's Trailbuilding, Track Riding, DH god)

After a traditional shite start across the river and having 60 odd punters in front of me, the shanks lit up and I went up the road. I decided to let the front bunch go (read couldn't make it up to the front bunch) and instead settled for weaving around puddles. At the top of the gorge I settled into a wee bunch with Johnny Click, Blue top Ben, Hiskey, Pedally Pedley, and 1 or 2 others. Hiskey told me to stick with this bunch which I promptly disregarded with large amounts of bad language as I hit warm up climb and 3 pedal strokes in got chainsuck on a new drivetrain. Win!!

Buckets of oil got me through to near the top of the Deadwood climb before it struck again, and even oil this time wasn't curing it. So rolling the dog it was. By this time (mainly ‘cos I was riding like a Crossling - read slow as feck) Anika and the Godfather got on my wheel. Anika snuck past for a while, til my testosterone kicked in and I belted away. Into the Rockgarden and was forced to dismount to get past another rider, which meant I had to stay off for a while and run. Unfortunately for me, the Freak caught me. Garth got his giggles, and whilst I was riding like shit and nanna’ing my tires down, he was going gangbusters and flying. Rich went past me at the bottom of the staircase and at this point I wasn't even thinking that a Sub-3 was on the cards.

Part way up, Ant and the Godfather caught me sinking me further into depression.
Slapped lube on at the top, and rolled the dog once more. Caught the Godfather smack bang on teh top of Big ring and powered past. Fully opened her up and let rip, caught Ant about halfway and edged past. Disappointed my fans at the Cloustonville turnoff by riding slow, but pulled in Kurt Lancaster on a dh stretch which I was happy about. Chain got a mint clean in the creeks and some more oil at the bottom of Dopers and I was golden. Ant was in view behind me at the bottom but I wasn't to be denied a good finish. Rode the bottom 3rd with Richard Anderson, who had been suffering mechanicals, till I was nearly passing out and let him go. Marcello came past far to quickly to not be on drugs or something. I sucked back a cheer pack, and then noticed Anika a corner back. Oh hell no! Got some form of legs back and kept that gap to the top, when upon me came the mist of pace.

Pinned to the bottom, rode the river and the dog was rolled, at times the 40:11 in the 29" wheels lacking as the pace was hot and high. Just past the top bridge and I rolled past Richard who had me all the way back at Devils. "Ahhh buggar" I heard as the calves of Doom crushed his soul. Mashed all the way to the end, barely able to see thru the grit and mud of the gorge. Smashed the river crossing and getting a 2:48. Not too unhappy with that as suffered with bad chainsuck and not feeling even 90%. But such is the Poti, and it's why we keep going back for more pain.

Tony The Tiger

Summarizing like my school teachers always have:

Tony tends to get distracted easily and veers off course often. He needs to apply himself more, which may help in achieving goals set by his peers. Somehow he scrapes through to accomplish an above average result. I fear this is off the back’s of others and will not last through any potential Pro/Elite future. My recommendation for him going forward is that he stays back a year in M1 until he has found some better direction. Best of luck for your future endeavours, Tony, you farking little pain in my side, I hope you fail at every gate. Regards Mrs B.Breaker.

The boring long winded version:

I came out of the river in third place, moving quickly up to first with Kyle Wood (2nd National Champs from the weekend before) drafting close by. As we entered the Gorge I upped the pace to see what Kyle's intentions were - to sit in and get pulled along for as long as possible it seemed! The On Yer Bike train of Josh & I, took turns steaming up the Gorge while Kyle sat in for the scenic cruise until we hit Warm Up climb. As the pain set in Kyle found the shanks that he had been reserving and put them into action, taking about 50m before the top of Warm Up. Not to fear as this was where my RAMPAGE ability would dominate. Laugh you may but I owned it as unlike the Nats, there were no large pines leaping onto the track. I was back in the lead for the briefest of moments before Kyle & Josh caught me up Deadwood. I caught Josh before the Staircase and romped up it, riding on for what I thought was a solid effort in 2nd place... only to have the cold shower turned on me by Gary Hall to put me back in 3rd! Turns out the M1 race started a little early leaving some riders to play catch up. Gary’s time was fast enough for 2nd but we never saw him. He must have floored it to get through all the traffic!

I arrived at the finish line to see my wonderfully pregnant wife still as one person. If you have not already heard, she was due to pop on Karapoti day, and is still currently one person.

Finishing time 2hr 37min. 22min faster than last year. No cramping. Turner was THE perfect bike for this race.


Goldfinger

I always wind people up by turning up at big important races and smashing past like a old, casual, hairy, torpedo.

I started well and got faster and faster. Wrote off the hopes of several Elite riders with my uphill rampage and dominated the downhills for good measure. I knocked out a few sets of press ups at the summits of most climbs, as I was not getting tired enough. At the top of Dopers I saw I had gapped epic uphill steamer Mono Sharpe, which was nice. I did some one arm pull ups in front of the marshals while breathing through my nose. Then I pulled 70kph wheelies down to the river, where I switched styles and lay on the saddle pedalling with my hands down the gorge, as the whole race was getting a bit easy for me and I needed to get a better workout. I did a jump over the last river crossing and rolled in a pleasing 6th place behind some of NZ’s best riders. 2hr31 and first hairy legged racer.

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Slacky Goes Tomac Styles

Our Father, which art in heaven,
Tomac be thy name;
thy hills go up;
thy hills go down,
in dirt, as it is in heaven.

For Tomac is the best of us, and it to him that we choose to follow. Not those of the skinny legged and those lacking in skill, but those who have worn the mighty Mu-llet, those who can crush the plebs with muscled thighs and mighty calves, those who skills can crush the roadie scum that likes to infiltrate our hallowed ranks of mighty Spartans.


Tomac is the man who I most aspire to be. A man who can conquer both XC and DH. For him I entered into both the XC and the DH at the national champs.

i had sneakily designed the XC course to suit me much better than the old Mt Vic course, but alas on race day i failed to bring my A game. Going off the start I knew it wasn't going to be my day, so I launched into a Tomac Attack and once we hit the Velodrome I was off. I've said it before and I'll say it again, on a MTB, the Velodrome is MINE!!!!. Of course once I was out, I knew it was all over so I just settled into a pace that I knew I could maintain, painfully, but maintain. Above all i wanted to finish. Out of the last 4 Mt Vic races I've done, I've only made it past the 1st lap on ONE race. I did pass Tiger once, he was sitting on the side of the track dry-humping a pine tree, I've given up questioning Tigers sexual orientation.

Essentially the rest of race was a blur, full of pain.
Tho the Bushlove cheer squad was super awesome, as was the large amount of spectators around the course, cheering us mighty Spartans on.

On the 3rd lap English Rob came past me, I caught him back up and HAMMERED past him as he took the nancy line opposite the croquet club, whilst I took the mans line, the fast line, the proper line. (naturally i let him past a bit later to give him some false hope for this weekend at poti) I also did the same thing to Jeff hardman Nottman, tho I managed to dig deep enuff to keep the filthy singlespeeder behind me.
Somewhere in there I smashed past Davo, but as thats not really an accomplishment so we won't bother talking about that.

I ended up 7th on the day, some 20 positions ahead of Davo or something.

That afternoon I went and did some practice at the DH. Ï needed all the practice I could get.

Once upon a time I was quite a handy downhiller. Even making it into Pro-Elite (tho I sucked really really badly that year, naturally only due to injury and lack of balls). However it had been quite some years since I had ridden downhill in anger, so I was a tad apprehensive.
I did however have a metric buttload of fun, it is so so different from XC racing. I don't think a lot of XC racers realise just how intense DH is. I like to equate DH racing at the top level to doing a 4 minute mile, at the same time as a boxing match, whilst doing a rubiks cube. This weekend however I was racing a 8 minute mile, shadow boxing and playing tic tac toe.
Afte the long hours at work this week, the hours spent taping the crouse and doing inspections, and the XC race, and the Dh practice, I was slightly off the ball. But, that being said, there was 80 odd other rider on the weekend that were faster than me. Sure I was 2nd in Masters 1 men and faster than the women, but the top 2 masters 2 men beat me (including Hendi......buggar). But DH is a whole other ball game these days, it's a vastly differnt beast to the DH that I used to be good at.

Still as a super hot chick told me, a 7th and 2nd got me a top 5 average, which is what I was after.

And I am STILL your Bushlove DH god

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2010 XC Nat Champs - BLR's Humble Efforts

Last weekend the XC National Champs again visited Wellington and our intrepid Bush pilots almost all lined up for the slice of the action and prestige.

We’d done a few laps leading up to it and all knew the course pretty well. We could ride it confidently wet or dry and didn’t care which way the weather went. As it happened everyone was treated to a proper Summer day and the trails were all dry and dusty.

In the morning race Bushlove was represented by Me, Goldfinger, Tiger and Slackshanks in M1 with THE CHAMPION in M2. We’ve already heard from THE CHAMPION. He had a steamer and dominated from the get go. Fantastic stuff. In the avo we had Sharpie and the Cross’ Bros.

Tiger

Took off like a shot. He’d done the training and was looking for a good result. A big tree read him his horoscope on the first singletrack. This knocked him back several places, but he got back in the game and hauled back up to the action with an epic effort. What a trooper. He came past me on lap 2, slipped in front and says “watch this” he drops three cogs and disappears. I got done by the Oldest Trick In The Book (you need to watch American Flyers). 6th place for Boner-T.


Slackshanks

Our muscled North Island Cup M1 Champion pretty much designed the course and romped around it. Big Boy didn’t enjoy the heat of the first lap pace, but soon got the wagon wheels spinning and moved up, no doubt dominating on the downhills and boosting the climbs good style on his home turf. I couldn’t hope to hold the Velodrome King when he passed me on lap 3 and rode off like he’d stolen something. A robust 9th for a Top Ten for Rickster.

Being an all round trail God, Slacky went out the very next day and snaffled the M1 Downhill Silver medal too. Add that to his NI Cup M1 series title. You can hear him jangling a km away now. He looks like Mr-T with all those medals.

Waghorn

Fresh from some extensive non-racing in the good old US of A, Jonny did his first ever race in M2. Maybe he could have got up those hills faster if there was a donut up there, eh Private Pile? Jonny no doubt rode the singletrack and downhill with aplomb, so looks like he suffered in the heat on those climbs. He even let lazy old me stick a whole minute on him. When Jonny loses some of those burger Kgs from the States, he’ll be back in the game. Despite letting me beat him, Jon’s time was still good enough for a satisfying 6th in M2.


Big Ed

Main man Ed, had a shabby run in to the Nats. After riding really well for a while and getting the training done, he was our lusty, handsome dark horse for a podium. A blazing Vegas Stunt Show and then a nasty cold cooled his heels though and when he braved the start line he wasn’t 100%. Ed did a few laps of brotherly wrestling with the Mailman before losing his mojo and retiring. An admirable effort. The DNF Wooden spoon for Ed though. He can use it to serve himself Sudafeds.



Mailman

After a Senior Men National title in his first year racing (which BLR claim retrospectively), Big Straight Al now races Elite. He describes his outing thus:

Right from the start of the day I was trying my best to make the day as difficult as possible with an EPIC FREERIDE RAMPAGE warmup crash. When the gun went to start the race, it wasn't much better: swamped at the start, riders unable to ride through a gate in an orderly fashion, people stalling in front of me, riders brake checking me when they spot a twig on the track. My legs obviously did not read the memo about this being the biggest race of the season, and decided they would protest that fact. Normally from here the story would be that I would write a story of self pity and possibly even call up the Wambulance... BUT I AM AN ANGRY STRAWBERRY BLONDE!

Coming back up to the Mt Vic saddle the home town advantage kicked in... the Bushlove fans! My legs made a weak attempt to convince me that slowing down was a good idea, so I dialed up a bit more pain to shut them up and get back into the race. Given I had already had my daily crash, I really let rip on the descents safe in the knowledge that I had meet my daily crash quota.

Instead of giving you a blow by blow account of how the race continued to unfold, I'll let this photo explain:


While I should be disappointed with my final result, I'm not - this was probably my best race ever! I bet Edwin (didn't care about the other riders, it's all about beating your brother for bragging rights!), rode the descents like a madman and crossed the line completely spent knowing I could not have gone harder!

The Bushlove fan club was amazing! Your support made a huge difference and made me push the pedals just a bit harder!

Goldie

Goldfinger won the M1 National title on a muddy Nelson course last year and gave BLR it’s first National Title. Here are Goldie’s tale tales from Saturday:

Was really looking forward to this years national champs race and even though i thought it was unlikely i would defend my national champ title from the previous year i was keen to give it a good crack. I had 2 races as a lead up to this event and did well in both so was feeling good about it.

I had`nt ridden the mt vic course so took the day off work and cruised down on the Friday and did 2 cruisey laps, was a bit greasy on the Friday morning so it was interesting but i did enjoy the technical nature of it, big ups to slacky and co for designing and adding a few extra tricky bits.

The masters 1 field was strong with several legends competing, cabin, hisky, jonty richie etc so was gunna be a tough day and the family made the trip down to watch so had to try and make a good show of it.

Got away to a pretty good start and set into a good rhythm, my only race plan was to not try and chase cabin as i would just end up blowing toward the end of the race, Settled into about 4th place behind tones (who is also in some great form) we hit some single track when suddenly tones spotted some good firewood or something and went about trying to fell the tree, because it was about a 50 year old pine the tree came off best. Made sure tony was ok and continued to ride solidly in 3rd place losing sight of cabin and a dude from timaru early, the bushlove cheer squad were superb and situated in the perfect spot edging us all up a nasty little pinch climb.

Was a little confused as the digital read out was placing me as 2nd masters1 man after each lap so i assumed the rider in front was leading the senior mens race but at the end of the day i was never going to catch him. Held on to 3rd place followed by silas cullen then hisky.

Was really happy with my result and my consistent lap times and hope to carry on some form to karapoti this weekend. Congrat`s to clive for his smashing M2 title and big ups to tones for picking himself up and riding his way back to a strong 6th position also davo for maning up and racing his single speed on such a tough course.

Monochops

Diesel Power Sharpe had a dodgy run in to the Nats. On top of a cold which needed antibiotics just a week out from the big day, a morning loop went awry when he went down hard on the course earning himself a busted wheel and a lot of grazing and bruising. He even recovered skin from around his stem’s top cap days later. Choice. The Bushlove Big Dog took the start line and steamed around his 5 laps, not as high up as I know he would have liked, but still gave a good account of himself, making up places in the second half to finish a fine 13th place in a field rammed with the best names in NZ XC.



Me

To justify my impending poor performance, I wore baggies and rode my singlespeed. That way everyone would think I was doing really, really well, even if I was totally out the ass. But if I did OK, everyone would be really surprised. Epic elite sandbagging. I did a good enough first and second lap but when I called the engine room for moar power on lap 3 and 4, I was given the finger.

I was really pleased with how I rode, except the uphills. I felt like I was doing trackstands most of the time and had to do a little shameful hiking on laps 2, 3 and 4 :o( 11th in M1 for me. One of us always has to get an 11th.

Wonderwoman

Ashley was chief marshal and did great. Probably the most lush marshal ever. Apart from maybe Peter Barnes.

Cheerleaders

We’d all like to give a big special thank you for the awesome job our cheering crew did. The noise every time we crossed Alexandra Saddle was brilliant. As soon as our helmets popped into view our cheerleaders and plenty of other friends in the crowd started yelling and it was a huge boost. Smokescreen families and partners were joined by Nicki, Megan, Paul, Orla and Mailman’s no doubt long suffering flatmate, Belinda, to add punch to the Bushlove cheering section. Thanks so much for spurring us on!


Well done to all Wellingtonion XC keeners for fronting up at such a tough event to give it a crack. Tom Bradshaw nearly got on the fast U19 podium, although his Dad, Ant, did make it onto M3’s. Wellingtonions were crammed into the Masters grades, showing that although many riders didn’t travel to the event from afar, Wellington has great depth in these catergories. Sam Sheppard got third in elite and won U23 which was awesome too. And of course a big thank you to the Godfather for bringing the Champs to Wellington again, doing a grand job and getting on the 2nd step of the M3 podium beneath the young Painting Man who intimidated with a new beard. It was great to see Cabin get the M1 title and then bridesmaid the short track on Sunday. Nic did a fantastic job of dominating the Elite Ladies race and steamed off the front for a magnificent win and her first (of many) National Title.

We rehydrated at The Southern Cross that night and the usual suspects were joined by outoftowners Cabin and Nic for celebratory beers and lulz. Clive of course wore his medal to the bar.

Looking forward to the Karapoti now. Only 3 sleeps to go…

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