It was a chilly night as I raced down the hill to the new meeting point outside the Swan Inn.  A little bit late again.  I’ve been coming out for the Thursday night ride for the last six months or so and therefore still see myself as bit of a rookie, especially in the wet.  The variety of the rides according to the differing conditions, the complex web of trails and the knowledgeable company means there’s plenty of scope for entertainment.

There was a slightly smaller group of riders than usual that night, but all were ready and raring to go.  Our relatively modest number was possibly due to the prospect of a muddy ride because of the considerable amount of rain that had fallen in the preceding days.  Definitely a change to the hard ice and soft snow back in December.

“Right, it’s one minute past seven!” I heard someone cry only seconds after my arrival.  And we were off – everyone keen to get moving and keep the cold at bay.  We headed down to our former meeting point at the university car park to pick up any one who hadn’t heard of the new arrangements or had chosen to go there anyway.  With the stragglers rounded up we set off with a group of eight or so riders.

As normal we started with a bit of uphill to get the blood moving and headed towards, and then up into, the Great Wood, forsaking our more normal climbing start past the dew pond.  It was clear that the mud, the leaves and the general muckiness were going to make it slower going than usual.  My mind was wandering at this point and, as I lagging behind slightly, a couple of friendly voices made a check to see if I was ok.  Nice to know there is always someone around to make sure you’re not lost in the blackness of the night!

We rose to try a couple of higher trail sections in the hope of dryer ground but found nothing but sludge and ankle-deep brown puddles.  Not that it stopped us trying to rip through the trails and didn’t meant they were any less fun; admittedly at a rather slower pace than usual.  Then after a while we moved on to do what is affectionately called ‘tea and cake’ by the regulars.  It’s a nice stretch of flowy singletrack where I presume, at the end of it, there is normally an opportunity to stop off to sample the refreshments at the village teashop (but not at that time of night unfortunately!).  Through that section I’ve been told it’s best to always try to keep on the ‘high road’, though more often than not I still manage to end up clambering past some overgrown spiky bushes at one point or another.  Further down the trail a small queue had backed up and one of us, whilst waiting, attempted to stay propped up by leaning on a small tree.  However, the tree had quite been unexpectedly been cut off at the root and very nearly caused a slapstick situation; falling to the floor with tree still in hand.  Despite the fact it didn’t quite happen, the thought of it was still found to be quite amusing by those of nearby.

The gravel track uphill faced us next and provided the opportunity for a more relaxed chat, until approaching the top when the need to catch your breath takes over.  After that, as usual, we did a load of great trails including that initial steep off camber section that felt just that little bit too dangerous in the slippy, rooty muddiness (and, for me, involved rather too much putting foot to the floor), sweeping berms (that didn’t provide quite the same satisfying flick-through as they do in the dry), plus numerous obstacles that seemed at least twice as intimidating in the wet.  On one pointy topped pile of logs, where a steady speed is needed to get over, I bottled it at the last minute, braking harshly.  Fortunately I found myself elegantly perched on top of the pile and had come to no harm – though I did manage to disrupt a couple of logs in the process, which I duly replaced.

As we headed on down back to the car park the tiredness and frustration was getting the better of some of us.  Bike back ends continually flipped out in the mud and even slight inclines seemed too much to handle except by trudging up them off the bike.  My lesson for the ride is that I should perhaps try and get hold of some tyres that can cope with the mud a little bit better.  A great ride all in all.

David B

Lake Perris was a convenient start point for an 18 mile ride. The trails are dry all year round and the claim is that they are dry within a few minutes of any rain stopping so no need to plan, just meet up and ride.

Trees, obstacles and narrow singletrack were missing but really it is riding in scrub desert. Doubletrack seemed to be old Jeep trails but they seemed an endless run of these so if you lived out here you could either put together an endless mix without repeating the same trails or perhaps get completely lost and die in the heat.

Mid November temperatures were in the 80’s, or 30 degrees, which was hot. Wind was minimal and the few riders that I saw were sweating buckets. I am told that 70 is the preferred option lower than that seems a little cold.

One of the riders had a Santa Cruz of course but fat tyres for sandy, dusty trails were the order of the day. I asked about mud tyres and it seemed that the shops did not stock them at all.

On this day two riders in conversation at an easy pace would ride an 18 mile loop in less than three hours. Clip the clean bikes back into the Honda Element and home within an hour. Los Angeles is just over an hour away without traffic so the number of possible riders was huge but maybe I missed them all.

JensonUSA are based nearby and more trails start outside the door to them, literally ride from the door. Sometimes they ride lunchtimes. Jenson have offered guided rides to any of us who venture over and can link with riding groups nearby and further afield in Marin County etc. As I may be back in early spring I hope to be able to ride a bundle of trails in the dry, nonwet, warm, non-cold, sunny, non-winter, desert conditions.

My flight was £450 and hotel was about $100 per night for a suite. Car hire booked here was £120 for two weeks. Fuel is free, food is about $10 for 2000 calories served in a bucket sized portion.

I enquired about night riding but this seems less popular over there so I have highlighted the difference with the UK and would love to try a night ride in the desert. With a guide. And no bears. Or cougars. Or cactus. And lights that do not turn off when I jump.

After 2 years of riding with Brighton MTB, I thought it time to finally submit a ride report. During this time I’ve ridden in the Alps, Wales, Scotland, Quantocks and Forest of Dean, amongst others.
None of the above were worthy of a ride report (read “I couldn’t be arsed”).

The historic event that finally produced a report could cynically be seen as shameless self promotion – it’s a Tuesday night “Mile Muncher” ride.
Whilst last night was not the most memorable Tuesday ride on record (2.5 inches of snow made the first outing one to remember for me, Mark B and Graham) it was an absolute cracker. Mark B and I met up in Patcham before taking in Tea and Cakes en route to meet Damian and Martin H at the Uni car park. From there, a fast blast out onto the Downs led back into Stanmer and a whole network of dry, fast and flowing singletrack.
We finished the ride at the bottom of the bomb hole and left Martin to ride back to Uni whilst the remaining 3 of us climbed back up to the top end of the park on tired legs.
The ride was good fun but the great riding conditions made it even better.

By the time I got back home, I’d covered 20.7 miles and managed to maintain an average speed of 8.8 mph – not bad given the amount of singletrack miles.
There is one unanswered question from the ride though: What has happened to Sam the Bongo Man? Answers on a postcard to the normal address.
Try a “Mile Muncher” ride, it might just be worth writing home about.

Brian

Thats gotta hurt!

It had been raining, not just your average rain, Amazon Forest style monsoon fill your boots kind of rain. Having only been on 3 rides with Brighton MTB before you could forgive me for staying at home, in the warm, just me, my belly and the telly. That seemed like a bit of a cop out. With a quick fix of yet another side wall ‘flint slice’ puncture and a last tweak of what is fast becoming a rear derailleur nightmare, I chucked the bike on the back of the car and headed off for the Thursday night ride.

Curiously on arrival at the car park, I was the only person there. Odd. There’s always someone there before me, was there some kind of conspiracy? Had I been vetoed for managing to cartwheel over the back of my bike, still carrying the bike, on to another innocent rider the previous week? The arrival of Ronnie quelled my Area 52 vibe, and on further discussion concluded that the Noah’s Ark amount of rain the previous day and the ever shortening days explained the turn out. A turnout which as we set off a swelled to an impressive 4 (unusual compared to the normal 15+), Neil (Començal Meta5) and Alex (Boardman Pro) had joined the waterproof masses.

As we set off I was in high spirits, having helped out at the Big Dog I had seen first hand the carnage that can be created in the woods by a bit of rain, and admittedly several hundred bikers, this was going to be fun. This is where the detail gets blurry, I’m good for the first 15 minutes of any ride in the woods, and then the local knowledge of the regulars takes over. We ride for what seems like 20 minutes down twisty single track, a few log jumps in the way, nothing huge, but enough to keep you smiling when they’re as greasy as grease on a greasy thing. Then bamb, we are 50m’s from where we started, and I was sure we were going the end up in New Zealand.

The dark was closing in and I was already thanking the slightly off the ball line picker at chain reaction that accidently included a Hope Vision One on my bottom bracket delivery (of course I called and advised them of the mistake instantly, but they insisted I kept it). So a new experience for me, pitch black in the woods, and very greasy roots and slippery off camber trails. Frankly, I loved it. The pace was quick, every so often you’d hear a f**k me as someone held on to a bike wildly doing something that was not expected, but it was swiftly followed by someone else checking ‘you OK’, yes and a laugh was the standard response. I managed a few good nose dives, Ronnie looked like he was ice skating as I followed him down a particularly off camber trail, Neil was showing his trail knowledge well but still fell foul here and there and Alex was discovering the merits of dropping his saddle, as well as himself at times.

Slippery, dark, wet and a whole lot of fun. The homeward leg summed it up, starting with a lovely track at the top of the hill, it seems faster in the dark but flows brilliantly, and a badger sighting on the way. Then in to the final straight, although it was anything but, twisty, tight, tricky, pitch black and according to one rider patrolled by the beast of the park, but I reckon it was a rabbit, seriously it hopped and looked like a rabbit.

So was it worth it? Yes. Is getting wet and muddy an issue? No, it makes you feel alive. Is it better than sitting on my arse on the sofa? Definitely. Will I be back next week? Of course (well unless I am on new baby duties) .

Thanks to the friendly bunch at Brighton MTB.

Graham D.

Having recently purchased a new bike I felt it was about time I hit some trails having lived in the area for a year or so and not seeing much in the way of countryside yet.

I used to ride a lot of downhill and did some dirt jumping too, but those years are quite far past me now, and I hadn’t properly set foot on a bike for some time.  With this in mind I was naturally slightly apprehensive when I turned up at the university carpark to see about 20 riders who looked like seasoned professionals with their bikes upside down and having a good tinker with chains and forks etc!
However I got chatting with a couple of people who seemed like good sorts and before long we were off on our way.  Being a rider who used to be quite fit but whos stamina has certainly diminished somewhat I found the pace fairly easy going for the first hour or so.  In this time we covered some really nice technical woodland trails at a slow-ish speed with some interesting obstacles on the way.  We crossed a set of logs and all was going well until my bike suddenly decided to dive between my legs – sorry to whoever was behind me!
The second half of the ride was more flowing with some really exciting singletrack.  I found the pace here really comfortable but quite exhilarating at the same time – those trees really come up quick at this time in the evening!  At this point it was becoming dark in the woods which did nothing but add to the fun in my opinion!
Being sort of unfit I was huffing and puffing towards the end, but I just about managed to hold it together!

To sum up the experience of my first outing with Brighton mtb, everyone was friendly, the pace was quick enough to be exciting but not too quick so as to finish you off.  The difficulty of the trails was to a level where you certainly needed some experience but there was nothing that really made your jaw drop when you had a glance at it!

So thank you all for letting me come along, I had a great time, it was really nice to get back in the saddle and I’ll see you all soon.