On my last trip with the fabulous people of MTB Colour Collective, I rode a mountain bike for the first time as an adult on 'serious' off-road trails. If you've read that article, you'd know that not only did I survive, but came back with a massive grin on my face and a thirst to try this mountain biking thing again.
So, when the folks at Colour Collective, spearheaded by co-founder Aneela McKenna, put a call out for anyone wanting to join their Fundamentals of MTB Leadership training programme, I didn't hesitate for a second to sign up.
My motivations for joining this programme were twofold. Yes, I had thoroughly enjoyed riding mountain bikes in the Peak District and wanted to return. Yes, I did also want to return to the rare camaraderie and fellowship I enjoyed with the people of Colour Collective.
Moreover, I also saw an opportunity to do good.
As a secondary school teacher, I’m in a position to influence people from a very young age to take up cycling. There were many small ways I did this until now - parking my bike in my classroom, inevitably being spotted riding to work by my students and then entertaining the questions of "Sir, you ride your BIKE to work?" I have very strong opinions on why cycling as a utilitarian endeavour is powerful. I saw an opportunity to show them that, not only was it possible, but it was fun, healthy and accessible.
Yet, cycling still comes with the stigma of risk and danger, especially when cycling on public roads. I realised that riding mountain bikes was the ideal entry vehicle for introducing young people to cycling - a (relatively) safe sport rooted in fun, exploration and appreciation of the outdoors.
Day 1
Waking up at 5 am one Saturday in November, I found myself on the train to Chesterfield and then riding up a steady climb to Bakewell, in the heart of the Peak District. While my Stayer Groadinger UG was not really a mountain bike, with lightly knobbly tires on I would be ready for the trails as well as relatively comfortable on the roads. It flew along; I barely noticed I was descending Calder Edge, one of the UK's celebrated '100 climbs.' I would be reminded of this later.
I arrived at training HQ, Thornbridge Outdoors, promptly in time for Aneela and Dan, representing British Cycling, to start proceedings. The air was informal and relaxed, not least because I knew all the other participants from before: Jasmin, Arun and Waheed had of course ridden the Peak District with me last month. Tamzin I had had many half-meetings with at events and the odd ultra race. Hearty greetings were exchanged, down jackets donned, tea and biscuits brought out and we started.
Aneela set the tone for the weekend immediately; as someone with years of experience adventuring in Scotland, she was immediately knowledgeable, yet humble and involving enough to make sure all of our opinions were welcomed and discussed.
The learning itself was divided into three key leadership principles outlined by British Cycling: Vision, Support and Challenge. Trained leaders would generate a very clear vision for a mountain bike event that would be collaboratively decided with the participants, considering their various needs. They would then determine a level of challenge or engagement appropriate for the participants, adapting the route, the pace, the variety of the ride as applicable. Lastly, they would put into place many levels of support, scaffolded carefully so as to help the group accomplish their challenge with confidence.
Using these basic concepts as key, we had discussions regarding:
Diversity and Accessibility
Discussions surrounding diversity were always going to be central in any training session with MTB Colour Collective. We covered everything from the Colour Collective’s key values of bringing Asian and African diaspora people into mountain biking, to LGBTQ+ inclusion in sport as a whole, cycling for people with disabilities, cultural sensitivity, the gender divide, the age divide, inclusive language and much, much more.
This was the longest discussion of the weekend, by far, but the fact that we could talk freely and didn’t once have to explain what ‘diversity’ meant was a breath of fresh air.
Challenge vs Enjoyment
The idea of ‘challenge’ in MTBing varied a great deal within our group itself, so understandably it would vary across any group of participants. We agreed that we needed a balance of challenge and enjoyment: not so high that participants were fighting for their lives, but so low that they were bored. We discussed structuring our guided rides to include challenging sections interspersed with opportunities to reflect, converse and take in the scenery - something that happened a lot during my Peak District ride in October.
What challenge and enjoyment meant to everyone, however, could only be understood by…
...Conversation.
We agreed that conversation was important when planning our rides, especially in terms of enabling conversation and opening the doors to participants to share their motivations, interests, fears and ability levels. As with inclusion, there was no end destination when it came to understanding our participants; more an ongoing discussion. It was important that participants felt able to continually share their changing and varying needs, and express both positives and negatives without judgement.
Improving Participation
When we all spoke about our motivations for becoming a MTB leader, almost all had at least one motivation in common - to improve participation in the sport, especially from members of previously underrepresented communities such as Asian or African diaspora members, the LGBTQ+ community, and women (especially women of colour, who were equally represented within our group). We all spoke with great feeling about why the sport of mountain biking, exercise and being outdoors were all hugely important to us, and how we could overcome barriers to participation amongst the underrepresented. Amongst the issues we discussed were cultural and financial barriers, ‘gatekeeping’ of bicycle knowledge and access to the outdoors, amongst many, many others. Just like diversity, this topic could have taken a whole day!
As it happened, the first morning could have dragged on as ‘theory-based’ learning often does; but between the enthusiasm and knowledge within the room, it flew by. Before we all knew it, it was time to shed the layers, don the helmets and get out on our bikes to ride our training route.
This route, devised by Dan, was a mix of a dizzying variety of terrain sprinkled across Bakewell. It included a length of the famous (and very popular) Monsal trail, a converted railway line; a number of sharp and steep ascents on rocky, loose terrain; some descents and technical sections taking in muddy hillsides; and finally, a few small sections of busy road to knit these together. All of this terrain we navigated using printed Ordinance Survey (OS) maps, beautifully intricate bits of information that we were trained to interpret.
I lumbered along this route more than a little worriedly; everyone was both more confident and equipped with a more suitable bicycle for the terrain. As my Stayer’s tires scrabbled for grip, I found myself battling more than once with imposter syndrome, the question of “If I can’t ride the route, how can I lead the route?” Burning strong in my mind. I let it simmer as we all went back to our hired home for the weekend and ate and rested, ready for the day ahead.
Day 2
As day 2 dawned early, the weather seemed to have shifted from dull to dreary to bitingly cold. We shivered through our morning teas and the morning’s learning, which concerned repairs and safety checks. This felt like a reassuring topic with my extensive knowledge of fixing bikes, and I took the lead on a lot of the learning, advising others on how to break a chain, fit an inner tube and check a headset. Confidence was creeping back, slowly.
Proceedings were brisk; we packed away quickly and got out and ready again, knowing that we only had a few short hours to complete the practical assessment in time for everyone to get home on the Sunday evening. We would each be leading one small section of yesterday’s route, practising the leadership and navigation principles we had learned to make sure everyone got through safely.
And d’you know what? It felt surprisingly natural from the word go. Waheed, Arun, Jasmin and Tamzin all led their sections with panache and confidence. Briefings were given - some in just 5 words! - and we set off under each leader’s unique style. We chatted keenly as Jasmin and Arun took us down the busy Monsal trail; laughed with excitement as Tamzin led us up a steep technical climb. The mood of general excitement was so resilient that even when Jasmin slid dramatically to the floor and clutched her arm (in what turned out to be a planned ‘fake’ accident), we all clamoured excitedly to help.
Soon, it was my turn.
I would be leading the last section, up a short and steep climb to the very tippy top of a grassy hill, then down it ‘til the Monsal Trail, all through a sequence of livestock gates. Some would have preferred to get their bit out of the way, but watching all my fellow leaders go before me had filled me with enormous pride and confidence. In my heart, I knew this was easy, and I could do it like I had done a thousand times previously in front of a class of 30 raucous children. It was that teacher's voice and persona that everyone else heard next: “Morning everyone*! My name is Varun, and I’ll be leading you on this section of our ride…”
And somehow, somehow, that self-confidence carried the day for me. Everyone ascended and descended the hill smoothly (barring one small gate-closing incident - sorry, Arun…), making it down the Monsal trail without incident and having a barrel of laughs. The feedback I received was properly positive - everyone enjoyed being able to work together to complete this tricky section, had enough information from me about the route and felt that my leadership ‘touch’ was present, yet light.
In a flurry, we made it back to Thornbridge HQ where Aneela and Dan sat us all down in turn and signed us off. We had all passed. We were all Mountain Bike Leaders.
Reflections
Remember Calder Edge? Well, I hadn’t. My only intimation that one of the UK’s toughest cycling climbs was upon me was in complete darkness as I turned a corner on my way back to Chesterfield and my Garmin computer beeped with a ‘climb incoming’ warning.
What, this cli...whoops.
As I pedalled on at around 8kph, up a 20% incline that seemingly stretched on forever into a fog bank, I at least had time to think about the weekend. It was startling how we all seemed so confident, so in tune and decisive when leading each other around the hills and trails of the Peak District. I don’t believe any of us are ‘natural born leaders’ (if there is such a thing). Instead, I realised, it was the nurturing, challenging yet accommodating atmosphere of the weekend that had empowered us to take on our leadership roles with gusto. From the moment Aneela welcomed us into the training room and we all began to share opinions, we were leaders - whether we knew it or not.
I think this says a lot about good training practices as well as the ethos of MTB Colour Collective. People don’t know what responsibility looks like until they experience it, and most people are uncomfortable with responsibility until they see it being employed in a healthy, empowering manner. Just watching Aneela, a woman of colour, leading us as an elite MTB coach felt like a blessing, a handing of the torch for us to continue empowering other people from minority communities.
Being an Asian, queer MTB leader is a special thing, and I’ll be back with the rest to complete our Level 2 leadership training this March. I can hardly wait.
*True to form, it was the afternoon.
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