The Best EDR Race Weekend Yet!

Round 4 of the UCI Enduro World Cup took us to La Thuile in Italy's Aosta Valley—an OG enduro venue from the old EWS days. Long, steep, proper enduro trails were waiting for us, and I couldn't wait to get stuck in.

I arrived in La Thuile late on Monday night after about an eight-hour drive from Canazei, with Winni keeping me company for the journey. On Tuesday I moved onto the campsite close to the event village, set up camp for the week ahead, and had a pretty chilled day. It was seriously hot, so a few river dips and relaxing in the shade were definitely required.

Later that evening, after dinner, I went for an e-bike spin to the waterfall just to get the legs moving. It's such a beautiful spot that it's hard not to keep going back.

Wednesday was track walk day. We had a brand new stage to learn, and everyone had heard it was well worth the hike. We took the gondola up before walking across to the start of the track. Eight kilometres later we'd finished the walk, and it definitely lived up to the hype. It had everything—fast sections, technical terrain, steep pitches—and I was already excited to race it.

The afternoon was spent giving plenty of haircuts... this side hustle is turning into a pretty decent money maker!

Thursday was registration day and also my chance to get my suspension serviced by Fox after Yeti had organised everything for me. More haircuts followed (seriously, who knew bike racing would lead to becoming a travelling hairdresser?). By Thursday afternoon I had my suspension back, rebuilt both bikes, and was ready for practice on Friday.

Friday was a late start because we had three stages to practice during the day before a fourth stage under lights that evening. This year we were actually allowed to practice the night stage under lights as well, so practice didn't begin until around midday.

After two chairlifts and a 30-minute pedal and push to the top of Stage 1, we were finally there. Now, you might think I'm exaggerating if I said the stage started on a knife-edge ridge... but it actually did. Add in some strong winds and a seriously technical opening section, and it made for quite an introduction. Stage 1 was also incredibly long, with a completely new upper section for me. Only about the bottom fifth was the same as last year, so there was a lot to learn and remember.

Stage 2 was just a short pedal up the road to the start. I'd actually ridden the trail last year on my e-bike after the race, but a lot of work had been done to it since then. It was a wide-open flow trail, but super steep, dry and rocky, making it much trickier than it first appeared.

We headed back to the van for lunch and a quick bike check before catching the chairlift back up for Stage 3. After a short traverse we were at the top. We waited for our media friends to get into position before dropping in.

Literally the first corner in, I clipped a rock and my front wheel got wedged between another one. Over the bars I went. Thankfully I was completely fine. I got up, moved off the trail and straightened my bars. Then, almost immediately, Winni came through, hit exactly the same spot and went head first into the ground. She insisted she was okay, but unfortunately she wasn't, and concussion ruled her out of the race.

Photo Credit - WEJUSTCLICK

About a third of the way down the track I rounded another corner and spotted a Red Bull helmet lying in the bushes. This time it was Simona, another friend of mine, and she was in a world of pain. Already racing without an ACL, she'd dislocated her knee. I helped carry her back up to the nearest road so the medical team could reach her before continuing my practice run.

The bottom section of this stage was incredibly steep and technical, requiring total concentration. I was very thankful I'd taken the time to track walk it.

Back at the van we had about three hours to relax and have some dinner before heading back up at 8 pm for practice on Stage 4—the short night stage raced under floodlights.

Photo Credit - WEJUSTCLICK

The track was only about a minute long. Short, sharp and definitely not my favourite style of racing. Last year I'd had a pretty big crash in the rock garden, so confidence wasn't exactly high. Thankfully I'd walked the track beforehand, so I knew exactly where to go and how to avoid another over-the-bars moment. One practice run was enough, then it was back to the van to wash the bike and get some sleep.

Saturday brought another late start, which was actually nice. It gave us time to check over the bikes after practice and fix anything that needed attention.

My roll-out time wasn't until 3:22 pm, which felt incredibly late. After a one-hour-and-fifteen-minute liaison to Stage 1, I was finally ready to race.

Stage 1 was long and demanding. I had a few close calls, which actually gave me confidence that I was pushing hard while still keeping things clean. I finished the stage in 6th.

A quick pedal across to Stage 2, and by this point it was almost 6 pm. The light was fading, and I was basically racing my own shadow down the hill. The stage was short, unbelievably dusty and really difficult to race cleanly. I finished 8th on the stage.

Heading into Stage 3 I was sitting 7th overall. We were held at the top after another rider had to be helicoptered out following a crash, so I didn't start my run until around 7 pm.

This turned into the best stage of my career.

Photo Credit - WEJUSTCLICK

I knew it would be a long, physical test that suited my strengths, so instead of attacking straight away, I built into the run. By the time I reached the final steep physical sections, I still had plenty left in the tank to really push.

When I crossed the line, I was 3rd on the stage—just 10 seconds off the win on a track that was nearly 10 minutes long.

I couldn't have been happier.

Back in the pits we had around three hours before racing the night stage. During that time I noticed my fork making a knocking noise, so I headed over to the Yeti pits hoping a mechanic would tell me a bolt had come loose.

Instead, they found that the cartridge inside my fork had completely blown up.

I'd raced all day with no compression damping at all—only rebound.

Looking back, I was incredibly lucky I'd managed to hold it together. Having a strong upper body definitely helped.

I sprinted back to the van, pulled the forks off my practice bike, and Shaun—an absolute legend—swapped the internals across. Most parts on our race bikes can't be changed without receiving a time penalty, but luckily the fork internals were allowed.

While Shaun worked his magic, the team invited me over for dinner, which was when I finally realised just how well my day had been going.

I'd moved up from 7th to 5th overall.

I was only six seconds off the podium and just four seconds away from 4th place.

I knew the night stage was too short to make up huge chunks of time, especially on a style of track that doesn't really suit me. But I also knew I could throw everything away with one mistake.

Photo Credit - WEJUSTCLICK

With the bike fixed, I rolled back out at 9:22 pm before another 30-minute pedal to the stage start.

The atmosphere was incredible.

It was Saturday night, the downhill racing had finished, and athletes, mechanics, staff and thousands of spectators lined the course.

No pressure... but all the pressure.

Dropping in just before 10 pm, my goal was simple: get to the bottom clean.

I did exactly that.

Unfortunately, it wasn't quite enough. I lost 5th place to Bex by just half a second.

Still, I finished only 11 seconds off the podium.

That is unbelievably close over nearly an hour of racing.

I honestly couldn't be happier with how much my riding progressed over the weekend.

Finishing 3rd on Stage 3—a proper, old-school enduro stage—was a huge highlight and gave me so much confidence that I'm right there with the front group.

Now it's time to carry that momentum into the next round... a venue that already holds some pretty special memories, as it's where I won the World Championship last year.

I can't wait.