The bird is the word.

The Mont is largest 24 hour race in Australia, and I'm led to believe the world. It has a sense of a holy pilgrimage for southern Australian mountain bikers (like the Baum team). Load up a car to the brim with bikes, and riders, then drive the 700km to Canberra along the mind numbing highway. Once there you'll find a tent city filled with old friends and familiar faces. Though the venue changes from year to year you can be sure there will be forest that's filled with kilometres of well thought out single track.

This years race attracted 2,600 competitors, while teams were restricted to 4 or 6 riders the choice of geared, single speed, single gender, mixed genders and over 40 categories left plenty of room for everyone.



The 18km Sparrow Hill trail flowed through pine forest, it was fast, and flowing with a few roots and rocks thrown in to accentuate how sweet and buttery smooth the rest of the trail rode. The highlight was the last 2km, a slightly gravity assisted, well made, giggle fest. Every lap you come out of it with both your big ring and smile wound out to the limit before you ducked into the timing chute.



Darren took a much needed break from the welding torch and flew up to support (read: heckle), while Jim, David, Steve and I got the task of clocking up laps in the 4 man category (Baum to be Wild).

The first day is a blur of excitement, by the time night rolls in the field has spread out and you lose track of who your direct competitor is. It becomes you verses the track, the competition has to be maintained in your head. Ride, then eat, then sleep. It's a rhythm that comes naturally after a few races, but regardless of how often you've done it being roused from sleep, the body craving "just a few minutes more", it is tough to grab a helmet cold with sweat and jump back on the bike. Knowing that the 3 other riders had done the same, and were counting on you to do your part forced tired bodies to transition, a few brief words then it was up the fire road to the first single track. The dark ribbon of hard packed earth flowed endlessly beyond the range of your light. Dampened slightly by the night there seemed to be no limit to grip, only of the brains willingness to push hard into the unseen. Soon sleep was forgotten, cold banished from the limbs and the moment entered... just you, your bike and the trail.



In the last few hours, knowing you only have 1 lap to go a sense of purpose overcomes you. Bodies that are tired and aching can be pushed, knowing that this is the last time up this climb, the last time through this rock garden and the last time through this section. Nothing needs to be held back, you dig deep hoping to beat your rivals, your team mates, your last lap.



Heading out at 11:14 it was going to take my fastest lap of the race to get Steve out again for his 7th, mentally he'd finished, which only made the prospect of getting him on the bike sweeter. Legs fuelled by caffeine were smashed again and again, tyres and trails were pushed to the limit of traction. Just one more gear, just one more effort, faster, get him out there, he doesn't want to, it'll be awesome! Flying around the final corner, tyres scrabbling over the dirt I could just make out the announcer..... "2, 1, 0 and that's it!". Steve had been saved from another lap.... next time Gadget, next time!

We'd achieved a good 9th in the 140 strong field, now it's time to sleep and recover.