7 hours of racing, literally separated by seconds, through winding single track, glutinous mud, leg-burning, lung-busting hills and it has come to this. Anton and Doug set out on the final lap separated by mere metres.

Doug charges into the first section of single track ahead, and over the next several kilometres of mostly downhill trail manages to put daylight between himself and his arch-nemesis. With only a few kilometres of aching uphill grind remaining victory is assured.

And then, reclaiming huge amounts of ground with disturbing ease Anton pulls alongside. The battle is lost, Doug can taste the bittererness of unavoidable defeat. Through a section of heart-breaking single track Anton pulls away, opening up an insurmountable gap.

Back onto fire trail and Doug is digging deep trying to claw back the metres, he swings through a rough downhill corner, caution to the wind, and grinds up the other side.

Into the final 800m, Doug pulls up silently behind Anton and explodes towards the final piece of single track. Anton responds in shock and dismay.

Doug crucially sneaks into the single track just ahead of a slower rider. Victory must finally be assured? Charging down the hill into a gully of muddy, tyre-sucking, goop, both riders spin hard up the other side.

100m to go, finish line in sight, Doug has grabbed a huge gear and is mashing the pedals. Head down, legs burning, surely he has done enough?

10m to go, random spectators are yelling and screaming. Anton must be close.

5m to go, Anton pulls alongside in burst of explosive energy and they cross the line Doug in front by a wheel.

Both riders roll into the pits, limbs shaking, vision blurred, lungs screaming. A most excellent end to a most excellent day.