AGONY & ECSTASY
The Fort William World Cup has been a champion maker and heartbreaker in equal measure. Steve Peat and others recount the highs and lows of racing at the Fort
The Fort William World Cup track has been both a champion maker and heartbreaker. We recount the highs and lows of racing at the Fort
reminiscing about his debut trip to Fort William. “I don’t remember that visit too well, but for the first 16 years of my life, Mum, Dad and I would come to watch the Scottish Six Days Trial.” It may have been motorbikes that initially drew Peaty to Fort Bill, but there probably isn’t a man around who can tell you more about racing mountain bikes here than he can. The UK’s greatest downhiller has competed here since the early Nineties, and in that time he’s had more than his fair share of success and failure, elation and disappointment.
Carving a line down the barren slopes of Aonach Mòr, over rocks and between boulders, the Fort William World Cup track is a brutal beast. Plummeting 555m vertically over 2.8km, it’s the longest track on the circuit and has a well-deserved reputation for beating up bikes and bodies alike. For every racer who stands on the podium, another two will limp away nursing their wounds or dragging their bike on buckled wheels. It’s hard enough to tame before you factor in the storms that blow through, making it a challenge to even stay on track, or those days when the sun beats down and turns the gravelly surface into a skating rink.
“It’s really tough!” Peaty exclaims, shaking out his arms, as he rolls back into the pits after a run down the hill. This year the Sheffield legend didn’t race the World Cup (he retired from international competition in 2016), but he was on course all week helping the Santa Cruz Syndicate riders with bike set-up and line choice. “To do well here, you’ve got to really attack for the first minute or so, pumping hard and getting the pedals in down to the split,” he explains. “That gets you a bit out of breath before you’ve even dropped into the really technical stuff. You’re taking big hits from rocks all the way down to ‘The Motorway’ really, and then you’ve got a sprint ahead of you.”
TROY BROSNAN Canyon Factory Racing “After winning here in 2014, I love the track, but it’s gnarly and beats you up. I limit my practice runs so I have more energy and muscle strength to get me down in the race. It’s crazyrough nearly the whole way down, and it’s both physically and mentally demanding to be on it for that long. This year, after four-and-a-half minutes, the top three were separated by 0.3 of a second. The times are tight here and that makes for great racing.”
“FIRST TIME I CAME HERE, I WAS IN MY MUM’S TUMMY,” LAUGHS STEVE PEAT, BRENDAN FAIRCLOUGH Scott Velosolutions “The riding here is so physical, you have to approach it di erently, conserving energy and holding outside lines to carry speed. It’s all rocks and harsh stu , so you can’t be hacking any insides and roosting dirt! Back when I was racing alongside Sam [Hill], he had a monumental crash here, smashing both wheels on a super-high-speed section. That was pretty gnarly to watch. I’ve always struggled here, so I usually try to forget the results, but you can’t deny the atmosphere, and when the sun’s out it’s a pretty amazing spot to be.”
EATING THEIR WORDS
At least these days racers have an easy ride to the top, in the gondola. In the early years, everyone had to push up. The World Cup circus didn’t roll into town until 2002, but from the early ’90s, the venue hosted national series races, albeit on a shorter course that started below the deer gate. “We raced this line down, underneath where the chairlift is now,” recalls Steve. “I remember back in ’93 or ’94 there was a river crossing that got really muddy. Everyone was getting stuck and having to push out, so I came in and went for a cyclocross dismount at full speed. My legs only just caught up with me as I ran through the stream and I think I ended up winning the race by four seconds just from that!”
The track has changed somewhat since those early days, extending high up into the moorland, with granite slabs and manmade rock gardens creating a different kind of challenge. Even the best bike and suspension set-ups can only smooth so much out, and as a race weekend progresses, a minefield of savage holes will develop, which, if hit in the wrong way, can make the toughest of arms crumple.
Nearly the entirety of the track is surfaced these days, but the middle woods have always retained that raw, natural element. Last year, the builders hacked out a new section, which, after the rains, became a vicious tangle of
ADAM BRAYTON Hope Factory Racing
roots and ruts. “The riders are always clamouring for more technical sections,” says Steve. “Then they had to ride that bit and all complained! That annoyed me.” He concedes that the UCI didn’t manage the section well and could have cut out a few roots to make it flow better.
This year, the builders toned things down, benchcutting the trail and surfacing it with rocks. But a couple of thundery downpours gave it a sheen of slimy mud and, three minutes in, with heart rates through the roof and concentration slipping, we saw even the best stumble here.
France’s Myriam Nicole slid out at the entrance, and Rachel Atherton also hit the deck in a section which, after her shoulder dislocation last year, is fast becoming her nemesis. Even Aaron Gwin’s dominating speed and skill weren’t enough to see the American through safely, as a misplaced wheel sent last year’s series champ tumbling over the bars. Crashes for him two years running prove that racing at the Fort is never a done deal.
WINS TO REMEMBER
“Fort William is definitely a love/hate a air. Everyone’s had their fair share of both here. Personally, I love the track, as it’s pretty similar to back home in the Lakes. There’s nowhere to hide – it’s relentless and sorts the men from the boys. My tactic is just to charge the main line, rely on strength and plough my way down. I’m not one of these guys who’s gonna set up wide here, or be smooth. I’m just gonna hit that main line and hit it hard!”
Victories here can come by the tightest of margins. This year, French newcomer Amaury Pierron pipped his countryman Loris Vergier by just 0.27 seconds to take the top step. But back at the inaugural Fort William World Cup in 2002, Aussie Chris Kovarik won by what’s still the biggest winning margin to date – 14 seconds. That’s a monumental amount of time to put into the world’s best (with Cédric Gracia, Nathan Rennie, Nico Vouilloz and Mickael Pascal making up the rest of the podium that day). “He was just on a mission that weekend,” Peaty tells us. “I remember seeing him in practice – foot out everywhere, riding all the inside lines. He just went mental!”
We can’t talk about winning at Fort William without mentioning Steve’s teammate Greg Minnaar, though. The South African has won here no fewer than seven times. “It’s just unreal,” Steve says. “He’s got something special on this track that none of us know about.”
Speaking of iconic wins, Steve has had his fair share of Fort William glory. Back in 2005, he became the first male Brit to win a World Cup on home soil, and the eruption of noise from the grandstand as he crossed the finish line is something we’ll never forget.
As much as the track, it’s the crowds that make Fort Bill what it is. One of Peaty’s most vivid memories from that
year was the way that, as he rode down the track, the cheering just got louder and louder. “I set off out the gate and there were a couple of people shouting, ‘Go on, Steve!’,” he recalls. “Then there were 10 and it got a bit louder, then 20 and it got louder still, but when I jumped into the finish area and I was up on Greg’s time, it was absolutely unreal!”
Is the enjoyment of racing here ever outweighed by the pressure to perform in front of the home crowd? “There is a lot of expectation,” he admits. “But a lot of it is pressure you put on yourself to do the best you can. That year I won, I was in the pits before my run and Steve Jones [of Dirt magazine and now EMBN] was sat in the media tent. I went in to have a snack with him and, I can’t remember whether it was a red wine or Guinness, but I poured myself one. He was like, ‘What you doing?! You’ve got a race in a bit!’. And I was like, ‘Ah, it’ll be alright – it’s just the one!’. Well, it obviously relaxed me enough to get the win!”
WIN SOME, lose some
The roll of the dice down Aonach Mòr hasn’t always worked in Steve’s favour, though. Two years after his win, his home World Champs hopes ended within a minute of him leaving the start line. “It was a tough race for me,” recalls the tough Yorkshireman. “I’d dislocated my ankle at the National Champs in Rheola, a month or so earlier, and I had to get it taped up just so I could ride. It came to finals, and I pinned the top section down to the first bridge, but at the end of that you’ve got to brake for a tight left-hander. The chicken wire had worn off the bridge
and I slid, hitting the dirt sideways. That blew both my feet off and I sat down really hard, snapping my saddle off. It shot me over the back of the berm and off the track.” Like his Lycra skinsuit, Steve’s medal hopes were in tatters, but like a true champ, he still hit all the jumps on the way down to the finish. “That was a bit hairy!” he laughs.
While Fort William has been the scene of many disappointments, it’s also played host to some careerforging rides, like Scotsman Ruaridh Cunningham winning the Junior World Champs in 2005 and Reece Wilson, this year, becoming the first Elite rider from north of the border to stand on the podium in his own country.
“I was in shock while it was happening and it took me a few days to believe I’d actually done it!” says Reece. “After all the injuries I’ve had and all the hours spent training, when things don’t go your way you begin to doubt yourself. I’ve always believed I could get there one day, I just wasn’t expecting it to be that one! It’s a dream come true and the raw emotion when you hear people shouting your name with such passion and support makes all the effort and risks worthwhile.”
It may be a race that shatters as many hopes as it does wheels, but
REECE WILSON Commencal 100% “There are no really hard parts of the track, but there are some really scary sections, like the big, long rock-slab right-hander before the deer gate. You pretty much have to just hold on and hope for the best! I always feel like a passenger there. It’s a hard track to put together, because you have to be super-smooth everywhere. This year I seemed to make up time where no one else could, in the last flat woods section, so maybe the easy bits are just as important?”
“I slid, hitting the dirt sideways. That blew both my feet off and shot me over the back of the berm”
it’s that passion and support that both Reece and Steve talk about that keeps us coming back every year to this intimidating and inhospitable, often wet and always midge-infested mountain in the Highlands, where champions are made.