I've always been a confirmed non-competitive mountain biker. So I was pretty surprised when a few friends asked if I was going to watch the local DH race a few weeks ago and I found myself saying that maybe I'd take part.

Let's get this straight, I've never raced before, never mind DH. I don't have a DH bike, just a trail bike (140mm front and rear) and I had only ridden down the race course once before, and that was at a pretty slow pace to be fair. I didn't even hit the drops that were on there that time.

So after saying that, the pressure was on, not from others, but from myself to get out there and just do it.

So, on the Saturday afternoon before the race, I teamed up with a friend to go up and shuttle the course a couple of times.

Fully kitted up I got to the top of the course and set off. I don't know what it was, but an almost tunnel vision came over me and all I could see was the trail ahead and nothing else around seemed to register. I don't know how quickly I made it down, but I can guarantee it felt damned quick, but my biggest shock was that I hit the drops that I had previously looked at and thought "no way, not for me" and just sailed over them.? The second run was much the same except for picking up a pinch puncture after the last drop and having to cruise back to the end at a steady pace.

That all gave me a new found confidence for the race day. When I arrived the first thing that surprised me was just how many riders were there, all riding big DH rigs and casting strange looks at my little bike with it's 2 x 9 set-up to boot.

After sign on we waited to hear that the course was open for practice, but on getting to the top we were told that this wasn't practice but the 1st run! Guess who was on track first! Yep, the new bloke on the inappropriate bike.

Now I'd already tried to tell myself that I would go at my own pace, keep it safe and remember that I had to work the next day. But strangely, race mode descended into me and fogged my judgement and I set off down the course as fast as I could. The crowds at the side of the course cheering you on don't help to keep the adrenaline from taking over, but the first run was pretty good, clean and great fun, even if my legs were shaking at the end! The turn around was pretty quick and we were shuttled back to the top of the course to go again. Unfortunately, the start was delayed a while whilst one of the riders was carried out with a suspected broken leg, not great preparation for going down again.

So on with the second run and the order was read out. My number didn't come up in the top 30, no great surprise there, so just sat back and waited. One by one the riders left the start and I started to think that I couldn't have been that slow, especially since some of the riders who had now left had suffered mechanicals on their first run.

So I'm the last rider at the top and the starter looks confused. It turns out that the time keeper at the bottom had written my number down wrong and I should have gone at position 39!

So I left the start and went for it, the top part of the course went well and I noted a good few guys with mechanicals all cheering me on, which was a great boost. All was going well until the last drop and I landed awkwardly and had a split second struggle but kept it all in, but then as I tried to put a couple of pedal strokes in I realised that the chain had come off and try as I might I couldn't get it to climb back onto the chain ring with the front mech. I messed around so much that I almost rode into the double whilst looking down at the cranks.

By this time there were spectators walking along the course thinking it was all over, so after a quick stop to untangle the chain I was off again and shouting to get everyone out of the way. Why I didn't just give it up as a bad job I don't know. Blame it on the adrenaline!

Lavatrax at the races on Vimeo

So will I go racing again? I'm not sure, I loved the experience and the event, but I'm just not sure I can trust myself to keep it sensible and give in to race mode!