Words: Simon Lay Images: Simon Lay & Sportograf
Last year I rode the TransAlp mountain bike race: 8 days, 675km and over 20,000m of climbing through Germany, Austria and Italy. I am not, however, an elite mountain biker. I am an overweight, middle-aged bloke with a dodgy knee who clung to the tail of this amazing race with my race partner who, prior to signing up in a drunken bet, hadn’t ridden a bike for 10 years. And he has IBS. Our story is the tale of life at the back. Trying to make the cut every day, being able to say that “we did it”, our only victory being over those who fell by the wayside due to injury or mechanical failure. Football fans can play football in the park, but they cannot take a shot on goal at Wembley; cricket fans don’t get to pad up and walk out onto the pitch at Lords. I’ve always thought that one of the joys of cycling is that you can ride the exact same routes as professionals. Not to try to put yourself on a par with the pros, but to say that you have some understanding of their trials, perhaps. That is what the TransAlp was for me, a chance to ride not just the same route as professional riders, but to ‘compete’, to ride not at my own pace, but the pace dictated by cut-offs and a dreaded broom wagon. For me, it was an inspiration, an opportunity to test myself in a way that daily life simply doesn’t. I want to pass on that sensation to others and to tell them “yes, you can”. The absence of a need for road closures or specialist courses in cross country mountain biking means that time cut-offs are more generous off-road compared to on-road, so you can sign up to an official UCI race with no licence, no team and an off-the-shelf bike. Armed with little more than an ironic cycling top and a handful of cereal bars from your local supermarket you can put yourself on the starting grid alongside cycling legends. You don’t just get to ride the same route, you get to compete, on a level playing field and under the same rules, against the very best. So it was that in July 2013, I found myself in the middle of 1200 eager riders in Mittenwald on the German border with Austria, a number board cable-tied to my bike. With a “woo-hoo!” from Blur’s Song 2 we headed over the start line of the TransAlp, an elite, mountain biking stage race which attracts over 30,000 spectators and at over 650km long with more than 20,000m of climbing is regarded as one of the toughest events in Europe. 79
