Oliver’s first year of cycle racing has gone well, with him picking up a few 3rd places and even a win at a crit race. He had progressed up from Category 4 to 3, and needed just one more point to reach Category 2. The Scottish National Road Race Championship was coming up in Newton Stewart and he was keen to give it a go. That was a big step up in the level of competition and also distance, at a total of 122 km (just over 75 miles).
The longer distance meant that he couldn’t carry enough water bottles on the bike to last the whole distance. So Colette and I volunteered to go along as “soigneurs”, to stand at the side of the road and pass bottles on to Oliver as he rode past.
There is a bit of skill involved for both the rider and the swannie (as they are often known in English), so we had a bit of practice ahead of time till we felt fairly confident that we could do the job.
As it was an early start, the three of us went down to Newton Stewart the day before and stayed the night in the Crown Hotel. The accommodation was basic but the breakfast was great, setting us up for the day.
Oliver went off early for sign on and to get his numbers, which he took back to the hotel to pin to his skin suit before getting dressed and heading off for the start line, while Colette and I checked out from the hotel and headed out ourselves. We drove to a layby and got our bikes out, not forgetting Ollie’s crucial spare bottles, which he had pre-prepared with a sugary mixture to rehydrate and fuel his ride.
As we were a little early, we headed off in the wrong direction for about 15 minutes before turning round and heading towards the feed zone. Our route took us along an old military road, which was very narrow with grass down the middle and was in a gradual state of deterioration towards a gravel track. Luckily we were riding gravel bikes, so no problem.
We then turned onto the B7027 and turned left, going uphill for about a mile until we came to the feed zone. This was also the finish line, or would be on the 5th time round. We parked our bikes at the side of the road and waited for the riders to appear for the first time.
It took a bit longer than expected, and it turned out that was due to an accident and the race being neutralised for a minute or two while the medics were busy. When they did appear, it was a breakaway of about nine riders that passed first, followed by the main bunch about 2 minutes later, with Oliver pulling near the front.
He didn’t need a bottle this early into the race so we were ready with our phones to capture some photos of the race going past. The next time round he probably would need a bottle though. In the meantime, I did a rough calculation that they would be back round in about 35 minutes, so we had some time to kill, which was filled by waving the phones above our heads in the hope that that would help sending the photos back home with the meager amount of signal available. They all went off eventually.
There was another neutralisation on this lap, delaying their return by a few more minutes, then the breakaway came into view. The peloton was a bit closer than last time, and there was a flurry of activity with bottles being handed over ahead of our position, although not all of them were taken successfully.
All of a sudden Oliver appeared and grabbed the bottle from my outstretched arm very firmly. A successful handover! I was very pleased, and it meant that Colette, who was standing about 20 yards further on, didn’t have to put out her arm with the backup bottle.
We now had more time to kill, so we decided to explore the gravel trails of Penninghame forest that surrounded us. I noticed that there were trails to the south of us, heading towards a loch a mile or two away. It looked ideal for a quick ride, so off we went.
The trail soon went downhill quite fast before leveling off. I worked out from the map which turns to take on the maze of tracks through the forest, and ended up close to the loch. However, we weren’t close enough to see it, and time was not in our favour, so we started heading back. I was afraid the gravel climb back up would be slow, so I was relieved to find a parallel tarmac road leading in the same general direction. That made the ascent a lot quicker, taking us back onto the B7027 again, close to the feed zone.
We went back into position, and handed over Oliver’s 2nd bottle. I felt so relieved that the handover went well, as quite a few riders fumbled theirs. That left us another bit of exploration to do.
We headed the other direction into the forest this time, but my planned mini-route was abandoned when I found it went through somebody’s garden. We backtracked and did some more random riding along the mostly great gravel tracks till it was time to turn back and watch the race go past for the penultimate time.
We had already handed over both of the bottles that Oliver had provided, so I got ready with my own water bottle to hand over, just in case he needed it.
The race then approached. First off, there were two riders in the lead, followed by a small chasing group and the peloton a minute or so back, where Oliver was still located. He motioned that he didn’t need my bottle and off they went on their final lap.
For our final mini-ride, Colette and followed the riders off down the B7027 for a bit, making sure to pull over when we could hear any stragglers approaching us from behind. Then we turned into the forest once more and made our may round and up again, to rejoin the race route back at the finish line.
No need for bottles now, Colette and I stationed ourselves on opposite sides of the road to take photos of the riders coming in for the final sprint…
First to appear was number 21, Logan Maclean, who had got himself a clear lead and cruised to victory with his hands aloft. A little later, the chasing bunch appeared, already engaged in their final sprint. I was amazed to see Oliver among them, after having bridged over from the peloton.
Colette and I screamed encouragement as he closed in on the finish line, although it was clear that the effort to bridge over was telling and he was struggling to hold his place in the sprint.
We rushed over after the finish to say well done, and try to work out what place Oliver had finished in. Looking at my photos, he must have been at least 8th, which left him speechless. He had no idea he could do so well in such a big race.
In fact, it turned out that Oliver finished in 7th place, giving him his biggest haul of points to date, and propelling him well into category 2! We were delighted for him, and he was buzzing too, having gone from beginner racer to 7th best in the country in just a few months!