Brindgewood

Shropshire is home to the most legendary band of all time led zeppelin, and to one of the greatest tracks of all time. Brindgewood.

Brindgewoods surroundings look like something straight out of heartbeat or Emmerdale. Deserted farmyards and baron fields litter the valley floor. The woods themselves give off an eerie sense, as if you shouldn’t be there; I swear I heard and saw a bear coming at me more than one point during the day…


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Anyway enough of the David Attenborough bollocks. The track we first hit up was the one used for the national champs when it was held here last. The last time I raced on this track was in the winter series round 3, when instead of dust we had snow… Its strange how much different a track looks without tape, I suppose it’s a good thing because it widens your boundary’s and allows you to get creative.



The first part of the track is fast and littered with braking bumps and roots. Weave in and out of the trees, over an annoyingly tricky rooty section (even in the dry) into a 90 degree right hander. Round a berm which leads you into a triple which you can either fully clear or jump then pump or in many peoples cases get bucked.



Pedal your ass off up the fire road for a split second and drop into a left hand catch berm. Somehow in my race run in the winter series race I managed to actually miss this berm, and for people who know which part of the track im on about, it’s a looooong way back up. Sprint until your legs are gasping for no more over jumps and off camber roots until you finally hit the big tabletop, sending you into the first woods.


By hitting this jump you can save a hell of a lot of time as me and Ed discovered when doing timed runs. I hit that jump and a few others in the course in my run which gave me an advantage of 20 secs up on him. Interesting… sometimes it is faster to go big than keeping it low.

If you ask anyone about Brindgewood and which part of the tracks they love the most I swear down 9 out of 10 will say the wooded sections. There’s nowhere else like them. The close knit trees with their timely matured roots provide you with a very rare and very unique terrain. You can pump your way through these woods like it was your local BMX track. The locals we met that day had many lines sewed up that I didn’t even knew exist. Once you stop and take a look around you start to imagine endless amounts of transfers off natural kickers and roots.



The bottom section is no different to the first wooded section tight and very flowy. If you can find the right line here you can really rail it. Pinballing off trees we made are way down to the final roll in to the infamous final booter. A well crafted tabletop which needed to be hit at warp speed 9 to have any chance of clearing. To be honest I think the only people I’ve seen clear it are the infamous Morgan bro’s Adam and Ben.

We did this track time after time because of the handy road that winds pretty much all the way to the top of the hill, Road + Dad + car = free uplift. Everything was going smoothly until I had my daily nightmare with my bike. The rear end was that loose that I cud literally fit my hand into the gap between my pivot and bb. Worrying…



We’d dragged my dad out for his second proper ride since he got his first big hitting bike. He seemed to be at home in the rough stuff, powering his way through using the beef. Ed was his usual consistent self constantly hammering in runs and sessioning sections until he could no longer move.

We ventured over to a bomb hole further down the top fire road and as soon as we got their a session kicked off jumping the step up hip and carving the natural bowl. By this time I could hear the sound of the golden arch calling, and I answered. We set off back down the smoothest, flowiest track I have ever witnessed. Popping in and out of trees and carving berms left right and centre was all we could do to make our way down the hill. Even my dad was starting to get the hang of this pumping the trail malarkey.

Sluggishly making our way back to the car in the blistering heat the usual talk of the trail quality began and I swear, I didn’t hear one bad word about this one.