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Tales from le Trails - Free Raid special The Free Raid is an annual mountain bike event held in the Portes Du Soleil region of France, in the Alps around the small towns of Les Gets, Morzine and Avoriaz. The basic idea of the event is that participants use ski lifts to gain height and then use the vast network of mountain trails to descend to the next ski lift. Although there is some climbing involved, the main focus of the event is for free riding, or more accurately, 90% downhilling with a bit of pedalling. Some of you may have read my report from last year's event, when Sylvain and I thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and rode until our arms and legs were absolutely shot. With the pair of us raving on about last year's event so much, there was a great deal of interest from the other mountain bikers with regard to participating this year. It was back in February when the e-mails first started to be circulated to drum up support and after a great deal of persuasion and encouragement, come the week before the event, twelve people had entered the event and organised travel to the Alps. Unfortunately, as is always the way with these things, Pete Kerr was unable to come at the last moment due to exams (although his place was taken by Will) and Dom Longman had to pull out three days before as he wrote his car off . Day one: Travelling to our Mecca. So, come Thursday 27th June, ten of us met at Gatwick airport (with one more meeting us in Avoriaz), full of anticipation and excitement for what lied ahead. After what seemed like an endless journey involving trains, planes and automobiles, we arrived in Avoriaz in light rain. As soon as we arrived, Adam opened the back of the MPV, causing two crates of Stella to fall on the ground, showering the whole area and everyone present in beer and glass! In typical Addiscombe MTB style, we all picked up the partly empty bottles and drank what was left, all the time being overlooked by the owner of the apartment that we were hiring for a week. The British had arrived.
With leaden skies overhead, we started the unenviable task of building our bikes. For most people this wasn't a problem, but I had to remove my forks to fit my bike in it's box and in the process had knackered my headset, with bearings going everywhere. After a lot of swearing and hammer action, I finally managed to get the forks and headset back together, only to find that the rear mech hanger had somehow threaded itself; I had to dismantle my spare mech to get the bolt out so that I could re-cut the threads from the other side. Still, no problems so far, until I came to put the spare mech back together again, which meant pushing a circlip into place with a screwdriver. Martin warned me that I was quite likely to stab my hand if I did but me being me, I carried on, slipped and drove the bloody thing half-way through my hand. Bugger. The rest of the evening was spent drinking, trying to follow Alien 4: Resurrection dubbed in French and watching the most amazing lightning any of us have ever seen - the trails were definitely not going to be dry the next day! Mark arrived at 4:30am after driving through the lightning for two hours. Day two: Five yard visibility. We awoke to the sound of heavy rain and fast flowing water, and the sight of nothing but water; in the cloud all around us, falling from the clouds, running down the streets in torrents and exiting the nearby waterfall horizontally - it was going to be a wet day. It was at this point that quite a few people realised that they hadn't brought any wet weather gear; mountain virgins, obviously. After motivating ourselves and hiding in a porch for a bit, four of the party decided that they would travel to Morzine in the van rather than ride down (there was a Free Raid picnic in the town, which also hosted the trade show).
We pressed on but unfortunately found ourselves back by the road, although 200 metres below where we'd started. A bloke who worked in the ski lift explained that there was an offroad route to Morzine, although it was a footpath and far too treacherous for bikes; with the weather as it was, we saw sense and followed the road down into Morzine to meet the lazy gits at the trade fair and spend loads of hard-earned on bike bits (mainly on front mudguards) and clothes. After we'd sorted out our entries for the next day, we went to the Free Raid picnic to eat Tartiflette (runny cheese, ham and potato) then as the sun had made an appearance, decided to get some riding in, and where better to go than on the singletrack trail we'd chickened out on in the morning! So, after taking two ski lifts back up the mountain, we turned and rode down the doubletrack until we found a likely looking singletrack trail dropping away from the doubletrack.
Wow! What a trail. From leaving the main trail, the singletrack dropped into a steep, narrow trail littered with slippy roots, big rocks, slimy mud, silly steep sections and to top it all, a huge drop on the right hand side. It was without a doubt the most technical trail any of us have ever ridden and got harder the further down the hill we travelled. By the time we came out onto the main Avoriaz to Morzine road, half way down the hill, everyone was grinning from ear to ear, most people had already crashed at least once and Joe had lost about a pint of blood from his knees! The second half was slightly drier but was steeper, rootier and rockier than the first and once again, most people had at least one tumble on the way down. All in all, the full descent was 800 vertical metres, with 600 of that being on technical singletrack; about four times the height of Leith Hill's longest descent! Of course, we went back up and rode it again, Joe repeating his knee-skinning crash from the first run, which left him walking like Steptoe for the rest of the week.
We were all pretty tired, so whilst we had a few beers, we didn't hit them too hard as we had an early morning for the Free Raid proper. Day three: Free Raid. Beautiful weather greeted us as we awoke on the day of the event, the reason we'd all made the trip in the first place. We all headed up to the sign-on area for 8 o'clock to ensure that we would be ahead of most of the crowds but on arrival, noticed that Martin was missing - he'd mislaid his helmet. After getting hold of my spare one and queuing up for ages, we finally got underway and headed out of town and onto the first trail of the day. Because of all the rain on the previous day, the first trail had been turned into a mud bath which saw all of us walking / dragging ourselves and our bikes for over a mile - at least it reminded us of home! Once through the quagmire, the first of us reached the ski lift centre and waited for the rest. And waited. And waited. Allan had snapped his rear mech, and Joe had disappeared off the face of the earth. Once we'd provided Allan with the spare mech (that I luckily took along, despite questions from others as to why I had it), we pressed on and hoped to catch up with Joe later on. This was the first 'proper' stage and from the looks of the map, we had a bit of climbing ahead of us. It wasn't joking. After a promising start which was on steep, fast, twisty doubletrack, we hit the bottom of a big climb which saw all of us with heavy downhill bikes wearing the soles off our shoes as we struggled upwards. Luckily, this didn't go on forever and we were soon on rocky, twisty singletrack. Where the singletrack we'd ridden the previous day was the most technical any of us had ever done, this was probably the best. It lasted for about 5 miles, losing a great deal of height over it's distance and was still more technical than any of us have ridden over here. I had a bit of an incident where I smashed my finger between the end of my handlebar and a rock face but apart from that, we all got down fine and met Joe at the end, who had been waiting for an age for us to arrive!! After a bus trip up the road, we moved on to the next stage which started on open pasture then followed a gravel track to the next ski lift. Another short stage and ski lift carried us on to the high point of the whole event and the start of what turned out to be most people's favourite stage. This started with a number of sharp switchbacks on loose doubletrack (with a 1,000 foot drop to the right hand side) before turning left and following a straight doubletrack trail for about ½ mile down the mountain where it was possible to reach stupid speeds. The trail then turned into open singletrack, climbed for a few metres and then descended round the side of the mountain over rocks, drop-offs and through streams before hitting a super-fast fireroad with the biggest drainage ditches in the world. The stage in full was approximately 5 miles long and mainly downhill, and had everyone buzzing for ages. Once we'd all rested, we pressed on for Morzine down yet more awe-inspiring rocky trails. Last year, this part of the Free Raid was only a section between stages and was still awesome; so much so that this year it was included. By the time we got to Morzine, we were all pretty tired and due to the number of mechanicals and other incidents we'd experienced throughout the day, we decided to miss out on the last two stages and head back to Avoriaz and the duel slalom track there that we'd spotted in the morning. After a few practice runs, we decided to have a championship, with each rider having two timed runs down the course and the order being decided on by the accumulated times. The results and times are as follows: 1st Jason - 27.2 & 28.4 2nd Tony - 27.4 & 28.6 3rd Allan - 27.9 & 28.6 4th Adam - 28.7 & 29.0 5th Rik - 29.6 & 29.9 6th Will - 29.9 & 30.3 7th Martin - 30.0 & 30.6 8th Mark - 35.0 & 38.2 9th James - 40.4 & 42.8 10th= Joe - No Time 10th= Sylvain - No Time
We were all pretty tired after this so returned to the flats, all apart from Will, Joe and Rik that is, who spent the best part of two hours riding the trails course! Once they were back, we had a few beers, went out for a meal, went to the pub and then returned to the larger of the flats, where James and Joe tried their best to trash the place by having an After Sun, mushroom, beer and potato fight, much to the amusement of the rest of us. Who won? I'm not sure, but the flat definitely lost. Day four: Brits on the Piss. We had all decided to have Sunday as our day of rest and head down to Morzine to watch the World Cup final, have a last look around the trade show, watch the dirt jumping competition and more than anything else, have a load of beers. The first thing we needed to do was check that there were taxi companies in the town so that we could get home at the end of the night (it's 10k and a 1000m climb back to Avoriaz) but a trip to the tourist information centre assured us that this was okay. There's not much I can tell you about Sunday as much of it was a haze, so I'll put the highlights (and lowlights) below: Brazilians dancing James meeting Double Dog/Gentle Ben Crap pizzas Thousands of beers/fags Crap pool playing Ugly women Nice women with invisible boyfriends Stolen bags Drunken bets Crazy arguments where head patting seemed to be the order of the day Sleeping in churches Expensive taxi (they weren't running - the only one that did, did so as a favour) Trusting French people giving pissed up Brits lifts home. Day five: Owwww my head. Monday was the last day for Martin and Mark and they'd both hoped to get a lot of riding in; some chance with the hangovers we all had. It was past twelve by the time everyone got their act together, and the decision was made to head to Morzine so that James could report his stolen bag to the Police and we could all ride the Morzine World Cup Downhill course for the day, ensuring that we never got too far from the ski lifts home. Instead of the usual singletrack descent to Morzine, we chose instead to follow another trail which led down the left hand side of the valley. Before I continue, I should point out that by now our arms were pumped up from the riding on Friday and Saturday, to the point where it was hurting us to even turn door handles. Lucky us then that this first trail had a surface that consisted solely of huge chunks of broken slate, and had the now famous drainage ditches along its whole length. By the time we reached the bottom, all of us were cringing in pain and glad (for once) to hit smooth tarmac! Once we'd reached Morzine and James had reported his stolen bag, we met at the ski lift and went up the mountain to the start of the downhill course, but not before Sylvain had slept on the grass in the sunshine for a while.
The Morzine downhill course is without a doubt the best I have ever ridden. Not only does it descend the full height of a HUGE hill (about 550 metres), but the nature of the course itself changes throughout it's length, keeping you on your toes. It starts with a fast open section before hitting two off-camber turns with a drop-off after the second. It then bends slightly to the left round the back of a chalet and into a steep, rocky right hander followed by a jump into a tight left hand bermed corner. The course then heads out into open pasture and through a series of off camber corners before you hit a jump which throws you straight back into the woods and a tight, slippy section with steps and drop-offs, a super-steep muddy bank and then a man-made drop/jump which spits you into a left hand berm. Next comes a series of big roots, a left hand berm, a huge jump, another HUGE jump and then a load more open corners before it's back into the woods for another slippy section and out again to the scariest part of all (although I'm informed that there was a chicken run) - a rutted, steep banking (think straight Widowmaker and you're getting close) leading into a left hand then right hand bermed corner, a pedally section and then another jump into the woods. After turning back out into the open and then back into the woods there was a nasty jump followed by a hip jump, a huge right hand berm into a tunnel, silly fast singletrack with off-camber roots and then another expert route which was also down a steep, rutted banking, round a number of slippy corners and then at long last onto a fireroad, which led back to the ski lift for another go.
As it was, I was the only person to ride it twice that day and that was to look for Joe; it turned out that when he'd been taking photos on the first run, he thought that we'd all come round again and he could join us then. Not realising this, we all waited at the bottom for ages for him and eventually I was volunteered to go and search for him. Still, at least I got two goes, the second of which was much faster. As tired as we all were, it was decided to head home. Mark's and Martin's last night in Avoriaz was a quiet affair with a few of us going out for a few beers and a meal. Day six: Downhill day. With two of the party departed (at 3:30 in the morning - poor sods), the rest of us made an early start and rode our favourite technical singletrack to Morzine, all apart from Sylvain that is, who wanted to do the 10k road descent. Unfortunately, Sylvain had a bit of a wait as James punctured at the top of the hill. None of us realised that we were missing him at first until Joe arrived and told us that his pump was knackered; he borrowed one and rode back up to meet him. Things got worse afterwards when the two of them set off down to meet the rest of us. James was so tired that he decided to take the road to Morzine but failed to inform Joe. When Joe reached the bottom of the singletrack descent, he waited for ages and thinking something had happened, rode all the way back up the hill. All this time, James was at the ski lift in Morzine. When we'd regrouped, we got the ski lift up and rode along the top of the ridge to the first of the Les Gets courses, a fast, open trail with bermed corners and lovely jumps for it's full length. Once at the bottom, we crossed through the town and got two ski lifts up the other side of the valley to the start of the Les Gets World Cup DH course that the pro's will be using in September. From top to bottom this was awesome. The drop was 800 metres over two miles, all on a man-made course that gave you no relief the whole length of it. The top section consisted of fast straights with speed jumps and bermed, hairpin corners that went on for about ½ mile on a constant slope which helped you keep your speed up. Next, the course cut into a sparse wood and over a number of drop-offs before hitting a steep, rooty section which then turned rocky and steeper. After this, the track levelled out momentarily before crossing a road, round a series of berms, over a huge drop-off, over another road and back into denser woodland where the surface was muddier and rootier; just what you don't need when the terrain gets steeper. This continued for a while before you emerged back out into open pasture, where the course got ridiculously steep (think Leith Hill drop-ins) which you hit at speed. Luckily, all the corners were highly banked so it was possible to keep the speed up. Finally, the trail levelled out and came to an end on a small road. Seven (for some of us) minutes of pure adrenaline! As soon as we were down, we went back up for another run, this time with Rik videoing. Unfortunately, the camera broke after a few minutes. Once we were all down, we rode back into Morzine, had one last go on the DH course there and returned to Avoriaz via the ski lifts to have a couple of beers and crash out due to exhaustion. Day seven: It's all gone Pete Tong. Wednesday was to be our last day of riding and as such, Adam and Sylvain decided to hire downhill bikes for Les Gets. Adam opted for a Santa Cruz Bullit with the new Fifth Element shock and Sylvain made everyone (and not only our group) jealous by getting a Santa Cruz V10 - the competition stakes for the fastest down the hills had just been upped greatly. With those two driving down to get their bikes and Allan and Rik taking the MPV down (so that we didn't have to rely on the ski lifts to get home), the rest of us had a last run down the singletrack of death and met the others in Morzine. We decided to ride the Morzine course first and then move on later, so we all progressed to the top and began. After a full week, we were getting to know the course like the back of our hands and flew down at breakneck speeds with not much time difference between the first four of us. The only thing was, Allan should have been in the fast group and wasn't. News came down the hill that he'd buckled his front wheel and was walking down so the rest of us went up again for another run which was faster still than the first - silly speeds. At the bottom, we met Allan who reported that he'd got his front wheel stuck in a gully at speed and gone over the bars badly - his shoulder was in a bad way and the wheel was a write-off; no more riding for him unfortunately. We moved on to Les Gets and went firstly up the smaller course for a warm up before riding the world cup one. Once again, we were all flying and once again, were missing one of the fast boys at the bottom. This time it was Tony; his swingarm had snapped clean through and he was not a happy bunny, especially as he'd only got the new swingarm fitted three weeks previously and hadn't ridden the bike before coming to France. The rest of us decided to ride the larger course and got the first ski lift up only to discover that the top lift had been closed due to the weather. Not ones to give up, we followed a likely looking fireroad and met the course a little further down. By now, it had started to rain lightly and the course was getting a bit slippy. Still, we all got down safely, went to a caff for some dinner and watched the heavens open. Sylvain and Adam went back up the course to make the most of their hire bikes and after every run reported how much slippier it was getting; especially Adam, who slid off a couple of times. Despite the rain, we decided to ride through to Morzine and have another go on the course there. Whilst on the way there, I thought to myself that it was probably not a good idea as I was pretty fatigued and had dry condition tyres on but convinced myself that it would be the last run I would get all holiday so went up with the others. From the outset, the ground was very slippy. Sylvain took off like a rocket and try as I could, I couldn't keep up with him as where he was railing corners, I was sliding off, coming to a halt and having to set off again. I was just about managing to keep him in my sights when I reached the super-steep expert run. Having not ridden a chicken run all week, I decided to go for it - big mistake. As soon as I hit it, I started sliding and panicking, grabbed the back brake which threw the bike sideways, pitching me ten foot into the air. I landed running and felt my ankle go as it touched down with mother earth. I was sure that I'd done something horrible but managed to convince myself that it was a twist or sprain so walked off the hill, got back on my bike and rode it on the road back to the ski lift at Morzine where the others were waiting. On close inspection of my ankle, I pretty much guessed that it was broken and a trip to the 'local' hospital confirmed it! They wanted to operate on me there but I insisted on travelling back to England the next day, so they put a half plaster on and sent me home armed with pain killers. Still, we managed to polish off most of a bottle of whisky and the remaining beers so it could have been worse.
Day eight: The journey home. The return trip from any holiday is always a miserable affair and after such an excellent holiday, it was worse than ever. Add to this the fact that I was constantly uncomfortable and you can probably imagine that I was not in a good mood. It got worse however when Easyjet refused to let me sit in a seat with legroom, forcing me to sit in one of the normal seats with my bad leg stuffed under the seat in front. It couldn't get any worse, could it? Oh yes. The staff as Gatwick forgot to send a trolley for me so I ended up walking 300 yards on my crutches, I was home for a grand total of 30 minutes before going to Mayday Hospital and then sat around in A&E for 7 ½ hours before they finally put me in a ward.
Conclusions. Last years Free Raid was a spectacular event and holiday and I thought that it would be hard to top but this years was just incredible. Every person who went (regardless of what happened on day seven) loved it to bits and have already said that they will be there next year again. Everyone's riding improved by leaps and bounds, and I dare say that people's alcohol tolerances are way up on what they were when we left these fair shores. Roll on next year!!
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