With points and prizes to chase, the large pro–elite field was hard fought and it was easy to see which riders were dancing over those that were holding back. Duncan Ferris, looking so confident and taking several clean victories in the motos, was knocked out in the quarters after a fall in the first corner. This was a shame as more than a few spectators had money riding on him to take the top spot that day. Martin Ogden was crushing with spit and gristle but the more lithe riders held him out of a spot in the finals. Will Longdon was pushing well and showed the depth of his class to hold off Beaumont in the quarters but couldn’t get past his semi final. Beaumont eventually finished fourth, looking smooth, calculated and in control. A snappy gate hadn’t been enough and a crash in the first corner and some interestingly defensive lines by other riders higher up the course meant Beaumont was forced to hustle from behind, right until the line when Nate Parsons shut the door and took a well deserved third place on the podium. Nate Parsons took a spill high up on the course too, but recovered in time to hold off Beaumont. Billy Cheetham was rapid from the onset down to final line every run, pedals in a whir with head down and unfazed by the rock garden he seemed to be one rider who really attacked the course. Second place was his prize. Taking the top spot was Patrick Campbell–Jenner. Ticking away at the earlier rounds, he saved his best for the last and took the win tidily and without fuss.

In the ladies there wasn’t much need for the earlier rounds as each entrant was guaranteed a spot in the finals. Charlie Green was looking good for a win but Nicola Anderson of Naked Racing pipped her for the win.

Stand out performance of the day was Dylan Grell–Delsol in the juvenile category. Unbeaten in every moto all weekend (and all year I’m told) he comfortably took the win, looking like he was riding a different course entirely. As one of the commentators blurted over the microphone, “No one is able to touch him…and not just because he is only twelve years old”. Not very classy, but good for an awkward laugh.

As racing wrapped up on Saturday evening the sun peered out again and basked the rolling green valleys in a warm glow. A great day of racing had been salvaged from the deteriorating weather and it looked like the Euro 4X round which was to be held the next day had even more promise.

Sunday morning brought little of the promise but more of the curse. Welsh rain tried to drown out anything and everything. Looking out of the bedroom window was more like peering out of a car windscreen on the M4 when following an articulated truck. Wetness swirled and spirits stumbled.

Some riders upon hearing the downpour on their tents and vans just packed up and headed home. The ones that did brave the storm still attempted to hide from the wrath rather than get in some practice. Regulations meant everyone had to do one practice run, but many held off right until the last minute. The track was slower and even more mucky than the day before. It was miserable being perched on a Welsh hillside with very little shelter.

When the gate piston fired up, so did the riders. The racers that had stayed from the day before did so to test themselves against the best of Europe, and a little bit of rain wasn’t going to stop them. Only a handful of Euros made the journey over despite it being a useful way of breaking up the journey to Fort William for the World Cup. Those that did had some calibre, even if some of them didn’t have class (I haven’t got space to go into the dirty tricks and dodgy calls of some, but let’s say they stand head and shoulders above the rest).

Duncan Ferris came back to rectify the heart break of Saturday’s racing and again started out favourably by qualifying second. But whilst leading his quarter final and looking comfortable for the round win he slid out on the relatively straight forward turn four just after having a quick glance over his shoulder. Many spectators were gutted for Duncan as he has the class to take home the win, especially at a race which requires real bike handling skills. Another drive home over the Severn with steam coming out of his ears.

Blake Carney had travelled from the States and used both Saturday’s NPS and Sunday’s Euro round as a warm up for Fort William. He was a powerhouse and if Fort Bill turns out to be wet then he has gained some valuable experience. However he got knocked out by a flying Parsons on the second to last corner. Parsons was definitely the talk of the pits all weekend. He looks like his calves are carved from whale bone and he has a race face that burns fiercely. Unfortunately, he was eliminated in the semi final whilst leading when he got caught out by a greasy rock. Lukas Mechura was looking like a serious contender all the way to the finals. He was a step above most, smoothing jumps where many riders could only pedal. In the final he got the snap and was leading right till the second to last straight when a puncture robbed him of any momentum and the victory. Beaumont slid past and was looked to be making a desperate inside line on the last corner to triumph but unfortunately that was not to be so. First step on the podium was the consolation. Milan ghosted his way through the rounds and was there in the best place to sweep up second place. Tatarkovic, who had looked like a betting man’s pick all day, was right there waiting in the wings to snatch the glory in a very efficient and understated manner.

And so the day’s, or weekend’s, action all boiled down to one minute of excitement on the last few turns. Riders packed dirty bikes into the vehicles, spectators shed their dirty gumboots and the catering stand handed out all the uneaten sausage to those lucky enough to be nearby. As the tired and filthy attendees slipped out of that Welsh valley and onto whichever roads would take them home, or onto the next stop, they were greeted by a sunny early summer Sunday evening. It seems the Afan area had attracted all the lousy weather whilst much of the country had basked in sunshine all weekend. A shame that at first had dampened the proceedings, but in the end added a bit of real mountain bike spice.