“For all it’s worth - I spoke to all these people but, I don’t remember any of them” - Grunter
trees before the next flowing narrow gauge track delivers them to the bottom of the first fire road climb. The field are fairly strung out. With so much singletrack on a race course, we were pretty concerned about congestion. It would seem that the climbing and the technical nature of the trails has afforded everyone their own little space where they become preoccupied by the pain in their gams and concentrate on the next slimey off-camber corner . The players are working hard, as are the marshals. The vibe is clearly good and this buoys us all along. As the laps add up, it is obvious the course is taking its toll. Racers seem increasingly haggard and pinched as they pass by. Finally, the clarion call of the last lap bell ends a very close battle between Dan Darwood, Fraser Malloch and Shaggy (first to third respectively for the blokes). Jenn Hopkins wins in fine style for the ladies, followed by Jessica Conner and Alison Rushton. It would not be a single speed race without a naked lap and Shaggy is all too willing to provide the entertainment. Even my mum (marshal no.5) has to laugh. As the field finishes and congregates we
opt to bring the decider forward from the original evening time slot. The ever brooding sky continues to darken as we set off in critical mass for Bothy Bikes shop. There David, the main man, and myself hurriedly mark out the tight loop around the shop and adjoining car park. Maybe 30 seconds for a lap, but we both know that the baying crowd and steep drop ins will make for a high octane finish. A beer for all the racers seems to keep out the chill as the girls kick off. The top 3 plus 2 ‘wild cards’ race mano y mano for 3 laps. What a hoot it is. A pile up, several crashes on the slick roots and a major last lap effort from one wild card play out infront of a blood thirsty crowd. Surprisingly the top 3 are the same as in the main race. Justice seems to be done and the blokes line up. 5 laps of furious effort produces only a slight difference from the main race. One thing that did not differ was the naked lap, again from Shaggy. He has cojones that man, it has to be said. The riding over, and the racers showered and fed, we gather in the Cairngorm Hotel for an evening of relaxed chatting, whisky sampling and a few ambers tipped to the efforts of the day. Prizes are handed out including