Yesterday the Derby du Roc Merlet took place at the top of the Col de Charnrossa in 1650.
For those unfamiliar with the derby format it's like a Chinese downhill but instead of going one by one entrants head down the course in groups of 15 and instead of a nice pisted course all the days imperfections are left in place. To make matters even harder the racers do a 'Le mans' start running into their bindings.
The course could be broken down into three sections, the top, middle and bottom each one offering a different obstacle. The top was covered in moguls, the middle was all about who could carry the speed the best and the bottom, well the bottom was a pile of slushy watery crap.After doing a few pre-runs most skiers had found a narrow flat route to the right of the moguls, fine when skiing on your own but when 3 or 4 persons are vying for the place it got all the more narrower.
It wasn't until Jen(
Ski Higher) and the other female skiers went off did the severity of the course become apparent. 3 moguls after the start line and one of the girls fell awkwardly requiring a blood wagon down the course. The right side of the course became all the more important.
As I waiting on the start line I wasn't alone in having a major case of papillons. After what seems like an eternity we were sent on our way.
I managed to set off 3 from the back of the pack and immediately prerace nerves were replaced by the need for self preservation. As I flew over the first bumps, which were now even harder to see thanks to the lack of sunlight, neatness wasn't the highest priority. As I came over the crest to the second moguls my clear path was suddenly filled with the sight of a mass of skis and skiers bodies. As I veered to the left into the mogul field it's a small miracle I made it out the other side.
The 'winding down the windows' approach was quickly replaced with a more organised tuck and thanks to the expert tuning of Jean Blanc sport I started to make up time and , with what is the best feeling in the world of skiing, overtook 2 more people. By the time I got to the Bel air jumps I took another place. From then on it was a matter of racing the pain barrier. Part of you wants to stand up straight and give your legs a rest but the competitive side of you doesn't want to be overtaken.
After a brief rain storm the bottom of the course had turned into something a pair of water-skis would have been better suited to. By the time I reached the bottom and slid to a stop my thighs were burning in a way that reminded me that I should have gone out skiing a lot more over the last 4 months.
In an event where 5 minutes of flat out skiing feels like 1 it's just a shame that, because it was Saturday only 7 English people took part, maybe next season I will try and organise a similar event on a Wednesday so all the English seasonnaire can take part.
How does 'Le Derby du RosBifs' sound? Currently the final times are unknow but should be displayed by next weeks edition.
