The ‘Rest of the World’ Singlespeed Championships

I thought I knew what to expect.. I mean, aren’t singlespeed ‘championships’ just an excuse to drink beer and throw the empty cans at those that mistake the event for a ‘race’? This paradigm has certainly been par for the course in Australia and I really expected more of the same from the boys across the ditch at the 2009 ‘Rest of the World’ Singlespeed Championships. How far off the mark could I be..??

On advice from the Coach, Mishmash and I flew across the Tasman a week before the event in order to (in Nic’s own words) ‘get accustomed to the local beer, altitude and atmospheric conditions’. This advice proved sound as on the first night I came unstuck attempting to order a beer. Firstly I asked for a ‘pint’ but recieved nothing except a blank look from the bartender. Oooookay. How about a ‘pot’ then barman? Nope. A ‘schooner?’ Still a puzzled look.. Getting frantic, I appealed to a nearby Farmer who informed me that a glass of beer is in fact called a ‘handle’ in Waikato. This cultural oversight could have proved costly in a race situation..

We were joined in the days leading up to the event by Aido, Rob and Craig of the Sydney Single Speed Society (SSSS) and one of BnC’s own, Kimmy McFadden (also of Sydney-town)… but I won’t bore you with tales of trails or epic beer fuelled exploits, I’ll cut straight to the chase..

As is usual with singlespeed events, a ‘pre-race party’ was being held at the ‘Pig and Whistle’ the night before the main show.. We rolled into the ‘Pig’ with expectations high (think ‘Brisbane Hotel’ and the Australian Singlespeed Nationals last year) but instead, we watched astounded as NZud SS’ers turned up, registered, then LEFT!?! WTF was this? (Editors note: blasphemy?) Could these Kiwis be taking the event seriously?? Apparently so.. Only ONE NZud SS’er stayed in the bar for any lenght of time but soon left, sober and well before 10pm. Very disappointing. No skid comp, no bikes tied up outside, no in-drag drags, no roller derby, no carpark crits, nothing. Regardless and true to BnC form, we stayed late, completed a full hydration programme, swapped ‘race’ numbers and rode our pushies home.

The day of the Championship dawned and we universally decided to adopt the ‘when in Rome..’ attitude and join the throng of lycra clad roadies and cross country whippets on their hastily converted carbon xc rigs with our our best race faces on (mine was mostly green with streaky grey below my mouth). A solid turnout of 201 SS’ers convened outside the ‘Pig’ at 9am so that Scruntineers could give each bike a once over and check for the correct number of gears. One. Being a historic-bike nerd, I got a tad excited when amongst the crowd I spotted a vintage (1942) womens town-bike complete with coaster brake, leather saddle, 28inch wheels, handlebar basket, bottle of wine, a selection of cheeses and picnic blanket.. I asked the pilot what she had planned, she explained that she intended to ride to the top of the first big hill, stop, lay out the picnic blanket, drink the wine and then throw cheese at passers by. All was not lost.

A rather ‘odd’ Canuk led a mass-ride from the ‘Pig’ to the race village via the streets of Rotorvegas.. a couple of locals in a Produce-truck decided to subject the Peleton to a bit of good, old fashion sledging before challenging the lead riders to a ‘draaaag off maaaate’ at the traffic lights. All and sundry were choosing to ignore the yobs in the truck. …They were big, they were Polynesian, they had scary tatts, and they may have been drinking..

C0mmon sense was generally prevailing on the part of the cyclists when a lanky bloke dressed like Wal Footrot rolled to the front of the pack on a rusty, vintage BMX and said ‘drag off? yeah mate, no worries’. Brave lad. The yobs revved the truck, Wal made revving noises, the lights changed and fk me, Wal bloody dropped ’em! Absolute champion! You’re welcome over in Australia anytime Wal.

The race itself was a pretty stock standard cross country affair. Le Mans start, whippets and roadies battling it out at the front, punters in the middle, hackers at the back, four laps, 40kms of awesome singletrack, plenty of passing options. The format did stray slightly from standard cross country; Bikes were mixed up and hiddden before the massed start, a number of roadies were very upset by this as in their opinion ‘valuable time was lost’ (none lost as much time as Craig, he was THE VERY LAST person to find his bike, haha); And a short cut was on offer each lap where riders could shave 700meters off a lap and drink one beer instead. I really liked this option but was a little dissapointed when wasn’t allowed to have a second or third beer each lap.

The trail choosen for the race route was without question, the best race track I have ever ridden. Seriously good route. Berm, switchback into endless singletrack. Rad as fk.

As with all serious cross country races, some semi-professional, fit-as-fk lycra-bandit on a sub 8kg carbon bike won.. but who cares? The real story was Wal Footrot. Wal actually rode the whole fkn 40km on that rusty vintage BMX.. The Race Organisers had to wait in the dark for him to finish, mate, this bloke finished about an hour after everyone else. DFL. He finished and in gum boots. Champion.

As for the Aussies, we ran our own little category (The West Island Championship) with Craig unbelievably passing everyone to roll in first, follwed by Rob, then myself, and Aido rounding out the top four. Nice. Overall, it was a tidy event although a little prim and proper for my liking.. but be sure, I’ll be back with boots on in 2010. Rumour has it that the South Islanders are hosting in Queenstown and they will be a tad looser than the northerners. Fingers crossed eh?

If ya keen, more photos can be found at http://gallery.me.com/bluedogtv#gallery 

Out.