Pete heads south to tackle The Ex once more, a little fitter, less tired and aware of the amount of bicycle riding ahead this time.
A little faster in every sense and a little wiser to the exertion that is The Merida Ex Enduro, meant that this year’s event was a very different beast indeed.
Photos by Paul Box.
Friday
Waking up in the van, I knew that Luffy’s infamous breakfast and coffee was waiting so it wasn’t too hard to bring myself to life. Once fuelling up was out of the way, Mike let us know which coloured arrows to follow for the day and the rest of the dos and don’ts.
I’d be riding with the other media squids this weekend. MBR’s Mick Kirkman, OffRoad.cc’s Liam Mercer and BikePerfect’s Rich Owen. Only myself and Mick would be on analogue bikes, but Rich and Liam said they weren’t in any hurry.
After some monster faff, I would be ready to get on the last wave up uplifts which saved us a monster pedal to SS1 which wouldn’t actually be timed but would get us well soaked straight from the off courtesy of the overnight rain.
SS2 was the first timed stage and was a physical and slick way to start proceedings. It really sharpened the mind and I was happy to have gone alright on a bike I’d not ridden before despite the input required. A classic Exmoor climb followed. Steep and punchy with no let up.
SS3 was another fast, physical opener but got faster and rootier towards the bottom, followed immediately by a climb that only this part of the world can produce. SS4 had some wicked turns up top, steep as anything before becoming fast as you dare go down the bottom.
A few hours broke up the day stages from their night counterparts. Time to stretch, get the lights attached and go again for another three timed stages. The team from Exposure had very kindly lent me a Six Pack MkXIV and a Zenith MKIII, which vastly outperformed my own lights and kept me upright through the darkness.
The night stages were a repeat of last year’s and had a solid mix of dark delights. SS1 was fast and swoopy, soft in spots before getting steeper and looser towards the bottom. A soft, slow climb that had a real punch in spots led us to SS2. This was a flat sprint up top, into trail centre-style switchbacks before dropping you into an ever increasing amount of thick mud and roots. The famous drop onto the fire road caught a rider out right in front of me. Thankfully I had stopped above the drop, knowing it had floored many last year.
SS3 had another flat sprint followed by an increasingly steep, fast and chunder lower, with rock and root coming to the fore. By this point I was soaked to the skin and just wanted to be indoors, and low cloud an my powerful lights meant all I could see was a white haze. How I didn’t wreck myself is still beyond me… I pushed a burger into my face like it was a CD going in the tray. Two bananas to see off the cramp and I was out like a light.
Saturday
With Friday having been a slightly bigger day than last year, I was a bit stiff when I woke up on Saturday. Again, Luffy’s foodtsuffs were demolished and the faff didn’t seem quite so prevalent as I tried to pack my bag with everything I could thing of.
Ten stages awaited us on Saturday and the day started with another uplift to dodge the stiffest of climbs before a gentler climb took us to SS1. This was one of the final stages from last year’s event and I was looking forward to riding it fresh. Fast, grassy turns led into some loose, rocky numbers that all just egged me to go faster. The Merida One-Forty 6000 was starting to spool the turbos. The climb that followed was a stinger though.
SS2 was fast and swoopy, before firing into some tight tech that couldn’t have been more different, followed by quite a chill climb, which made a nice change. SS3 was so good, my notes only say ‘Minter’. The up to SS5 was 50% chill, 50% Exmoor.
SS4 was a delight. Fast, slick and rooty, it got me feeling like I might be able to ride my bike convincingly this weekend but this was soon dampened by another torturous climb to SS5. This is where I had a brilliant time and Rich didn’t. Hardpack shale with a big old rut in it, pushed me to take every inside line available, whilst Rich landed on his head.
We both compared notes over tea and scones at the legendary tea stop at Mike and Tracey’s house after stage 5. Rich got checked out by a medic and we made sure he didn’t go quiet in the interim. Luckily, he had plenty of waffle on offer, so we knew he was mostly OK.
On the stiff climb to SS6, Rich would call it quits and we realised that Mick hadn’t been with us for a while. Fair enough seeing as he usually wins his category and is high up the overall too. SS6 was last year’s first stage, which in 2023 I rode like a man with an uplugged brain. This year I got after it, relishing the tight to open nature of this one before a hard finish sprint. I think you can guess what the transition to SS7 was like…
SS7 was a full loamer with some sniper roots for good measure. I was tired but going well on stages and transitions. Who knew you needed food and water for 40km and 2500m of ascent? SS8 was a Marmite stage. Pain Cave had a mid-stage climb that would have been fine if you were out for a weekend spin. In the stage it was quite punchy.
However, the sheer quality of the turbo loamers in between more than made up for it. I was flying. I heard a Shimano motor whirring behind me at the end of the climb. It was Liam. I found a smart place to let him past. He offered “you’ll catch me in three seconds anyway…”. I opted to put that theory to the test and forgot I was on a bike I was on my second ride on. The stage finish was extended to get away from a hornet’s nest and was a hard push up a basher track at 45 degrees. Minging.
SS9 was flat but flowy, fairly rooty with some sprints before getting greasy towards the bottom. SS10 was so good I failed to make any note of it. I’m pretty sure though it was some quality turns up top, slick with an awkward drop. The lower sections were insanely fast into hairpins. I was loving it.
Over the line, Liam and myself celebrated by saying nothing. We were both pretty cooked. Rich was lucid and Mick looked pretty happy with himself. The weather had held out and the trails were mint. Almost everyone was beaming at the end of Saturday. All the staff got gussied up for table service before the roller racing. Props to anyone who raced after that day and dinner, I’d have barfed everywhere.
Sunday
Sadly all I could manage on Sunday was breakfast for a myriad of reasons. I hear it was very wet but the stages were, as ever, mint. It’s about an 18 hour drive for me from north of Glasgow to The Ex, but I can’t help feeling like I should be back again next year. I am never going to win, but I managed to keep myself ahead of my usual mid-pack finishes overall, so I wasn’t going too badly. Let’s hope the diary allows for all three days in 2025.
There aren’t many unique events in the UK, but The Ex is definitely one of them and should definitely be on your list.
