This all started again in July. At the BCBR 2008 banquet. While Andy and I were eating our bodyweight in food, my husband Marc asked for the 6th time (or maybe the 8th?) “What would you do differently next year?” I thought carefully through bites of food. “That’s easy, I wouldn’t do the BCBR.”
Those of you that had the hour it took to read my last year’s novel might have gathered that I was not really a mountain bike racer, and actually I’m not a racer of any kind. All of this proved to be a bit of a concern during a 7 day epic race. My race partner, ‘grand fig’ Andy was absolutely fabulous and without Andy and Marc I would never have lived through the race.
In 2006 my New Year’s resolution was to to more fully experience the world. As I stand in my warm coat and mitts and watch my dog bury her nose in the snow, roll around and toboggan on her back down a little hill I feel like I’m missing out on something. Luckily, mountain biking helps change this as you eat and inhale dirt and mud and water, fall on sharp rocks, grind dirt into wounds and scrapes, get much too hot, then much too cold and generally experience more emotions and tactile sensations than you thought possible.
“I dunno” I said to Marc, eating dinner and watching two dustbunnies humping on the other side of the living room. “I haven’t really slipped back into domestic side of life as well as I thought I would. If we keep racing, I might totally forget how to do all those chores.” And so, in the grey and rainy month of January Marc and I signed up for the BCBR 2009.....
So.. no more housecleaning, no gardening, lots of skiing and biking. Groceries are still very important, as is making giant amounts of food. Cleaning bikes and doing laundry (lycra, jerseys, towels etc) takes up some extra time, as does learning about actual fitness training. What I did plan to do differently was spend less time on the hills. The only way to ride down the hill with faster people is to get uphill with them, and getting up the hills faster should mean it will hurt just as much but not as long. We bought some heart rate monitors and played with the buttons and tried to correlate my previous training perceptions with HR zones. The sudden pain of falling almost became a welcome intrusion into the mind numbing monotony of training. Tried to suffer intentionally by sprinting uphill, although I didn’t actually manage to do enough of this. We got wet and muddy and cold, and then did that again in the afternoon. Broke my bike. Brought it to Simon’s Cycle, where they fixed it again. Broke it again. Discovered more speed than I’ve ever felt, then got used to the feeling and felt slow again. Raced some ski races, then some bike races.
AND NOW, FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT....... FINALLY A BIKE RACE!
We stayed with Andrew and Lina in Vancouver before the race. Lina was off to Sweden for a multi-day Sufferfest/Adventure Race and overall the nervous apprehension was pretty high. We pre-rode the Day One course - new this year to increase the ‘singletrack experience’. Unfortunately, the North Shore doesn’t actually have any cross country.... not in the normal sense of the term. Fortunately, we like sketchy! The racer from Holland was apparently a bit freaked out according to a fellow racer. We rode to the end of the first major downhill as a pre-ride, mentally trying to remember the lines. The trail repeatedly rides up to an edge you can’t look over, then either you have picked the correct side and are riding cheerfully down a supersteep ramp, or you picked the wrong side and go over the handlebars. Or worse - have to stop and walk.... The pre-ride is a blast. So steep and fun....! I can’t BELIEVE we’re riding this in a xc race!!!!!
DAY ZERO Line-ups and Skill Testing Questionaires
This is the traditional day of navigation testing as racers crowd into a small room in multiple lines heading in different directions ending at various tables requiring different paperwork. Next year (“read haha” ) I’m bringing a folding chair. With wheels. The medical questionnaire continues to be one of my favourite events.
The Medical Questionnaire
Are there any lawyers present in the making of this event?
what medications are you currently taking?
hmmm - ibuprofen, some asthma meds, and crack cocaine
do you have allergies?
yup - cats. That seems relevant
are you susceptible to any diseases?
Yes, particularly sensitive to ebola virus.
have you experienced any of the following:
- shortness of breath
seriously?
racing heart rate
again - seriously?
chest pain
yes again! I’m sooo going to ace this test....
muscle spasms
score again! I’m doing so well!!!!
I’M READY COACH! PUT ME IN!!
DAY ONE: DEATH AND MAYHEM ON THE NORTH SHORE
We warm up feeling really short and pudgy amidst the athletic looking folks all around us. I feel slightly ill.... FINALLY we get to ride our bikes. Now I feel really ill! A massive uphill sprint - whoever gets there first will get to ride the trail - which will probably set the tone for the whole day. Can we make it with the “riders” or will we get there with a giant clog of people and end up walking for the day? Riders stream by us, I feel like I’m going to fall off my bike and die so I push harder - to get to the gate just, really barely just in time to ride the trail. YAY!
Marc thinks all 400 racers are in front of us and is feeling a bit desperate. I know we’re with a different class of riders than I would have been riding with last year, so I know there’s a lot of folks walking behind us. This makes me pretty happy, although my eyeballs are wanting to pop out with the sustained effort. Across the bottom, up the hill, I scramble and flail on the upper singletrack because I have nothing left, then into the down. Marc rides up to each drop, track stands, yells “rider up” and waits while the walkers ahead move off the trail, then drops in. I roll slowly behind until the drop is clear, then we repeat the performance. Traction is great and I remember all the lines down the drops and stay upright.
Scores of fitness junkies move over to let us through. Sweet, sweet revenge.... We hit the big ring trail at the bottom and eat and drink on our way to the next big up. Up we are again being passed by fast people, but into the down we go. Pipeline unfortunately is greasy and I have no traction. I keep expecting it to end, so I don’t adjust my tire pressure or lower my seat. It’s not ending and I start to turn into a ping pong ball. For the first time ever I have shaking knees while riding my bike. So do a few of the volunteers watching me. They seem wound a bit tight overall, maybe they’ve had a bit too much coffee this morning? I bounce and slide, watching Marc disappear into the distance without seeming to have any trouble. The trail lets up a bit and I relax for a few seconds. I head full speed onto a narrowish bridge when the tree next to the bridge leans over to examine my newly added bar end and I fly sideways. I lie on the ground for a few seconds making sure I can feel my toes before trying to move, but against a lot of odds I’m completely okay. I let some air out of my tires, lower my seat, try to stop the shakes that have now set in like a bad trip and get going again. We slowly pick up speed again over the next little bit and ride without incident to the end. It’s a gorgeous sunny day and we survived Day One. And it was a blast! We meet up with Andy and search for snacks. Other racers range from exhilarated to utterly shell shocked.
DAY TWO: NANAIMO TO PARKSVILLE
“You will be starting with a warm up through Nanaimo being led by a bike escort of local police, and when they pull over you are free to race. Mutter, mutter. Actually you will be escorted by a police CAR, and when it pulls over....” Apparently the local bike police did not WANT to ride in front of the International Racers at the front of the pack.... Go figure?
Day two starts well, a good warm up leading to a fast pace on hilly single track. Eventually I run out of all fuel and my legs scream and rant at me, but I can’t let go of a handle bar to eat. After about an hour and a half I manage to eat with Marc’s help and my legs shut up and do circles like they’ve been told to do. A wrong turn has the whole pack on a trail that just can’t be ridden in a pack and no one can get momentum. Just as it gets ugly we escape onto the real trail and scream along. Lots and lots of singletrack, eventually some road where a wonderful roadie tows us at lightening speed until the next bit of trail. Somewhere near the end is a giant awesome swoopy bit, then some uphill to make you cry and eventually you’re done. Ahhhhh. Sweet peace of sitting down on some soft grass watching the ocean....
DAY THREE: CUMBERLAND, HOME TURF
We’ve ridden these trails - the flowy ones are fun ripping along in a group. Today, it’s a BIG group. And we’re ripping along like I’ve never ridden before. The fast flowy trails are truly a racetrack at this speed and everyone around us is having sooo much fun. You can only push so fast - so exertion is tolerable as the trail weaves and rolls under us. We know we’re out way ahead of the people we’ve ridden with the last two days because they all commiserate as they pass us while we pump up Marc’s flat tire. We ride up Forbidden Plateau road, passing people from parts of the world where uphills don’t continue for 45 minutes. Marc pumps his tire for the third time and we hit the trails at the top. The singletrack flows into downhill and we’re in our element again. I have NEVER ridden down these hills this quickly! I feel fast and accurate and split second reflexes guide my bike around trees and rocks at an alarming pace and it feels solid and super fun. Now we pass people who don’t have hills at home where people are silly enough to ride straight down them for 45 minutes. Marc’s pedal breaks and he gets creative as we roll along the logging road to the last singletrack section. When we get into the trails he makes me tape his foot to the pedal... We ride like stink for the last half hour of technical trails and at the finish he just lets himself fall onto the grass so I can un-tape him. We’re pretty wrecked, but it’s been a great day. And if you’re going to have a day of mechanicals, I guess it’s better to have them on hometurf. I’m so thankful I didn’t have to try to ride taped to my bike...
Friends meet us at the finish and it’s great being home. Marc manages to get a new pedal and we sleep at home. My asthma meds are not up the challenge of this race, and within half hour of race finish each day I cough for hours. I tell people I have tuberculosis which seems to calm them down. I’m sure having lungs that sound like this slow me up during the race, but there’s nothing I can change now! Who would have thought a seven day race involves sprinting for an hour at the start of each day and another hour or two at the end? Food tonight is at the Cumberland restaurant of your choice, so we have East Indian. It’s awesome.
DAY FOUR: SECHELT
I don’t remember this day from last year. I try and try, but nothing. Then we start to ride and I remember. A mental block is a good thing if you’re hoping to torture yourself twice. We start up a hill, then into flowy road and it’s all good. Eventually power line roads take over and the fun turns into something a lot more painful. Some are hike a bikes, some are rideable, some are in between. The sun glares at us while the dusty hills stare indifferently to our self imposed suffering. I will not blame the hill, I will not blame the hill.... A long day that goes on and on. We rip down some logging roads faster than I have ever ridden wearing spandex while looking at loose gravel, and try desperately to stay ahead of our nemesis team - who are within several minutes of our time every day and more than worthy opponents. My bike computer says we’ll be done - well - now - so we stop eating. Unfortunately the finish line is 10 km further than stated, and we start to hit the wall as we ride without sugar. In the last section of singletrack we pass a racer who we’ve been racing near for these four days, and gasp as we see his bike snapped through the top tube just behind the front welding joint. He is busy taping it together, and actually rides out these last 10 or 15 km with his tube held together with electrical tape. Our nemesis team catches us in the last section of woods and the race is truly on. We full-out sprint into the last part of gravel covered walking trail and we’re sprinting a hundred meters behind them and we’re closing the gap - when I lose it on a corner and slide my arm and leg along the ground. Marc manages to not run over me, we jump back on the bikes and try to close the distance again, and then all 4 of us are laughing as we meet at the finish line completely winded.
Dinner is awesome, the first really, really good food for us vegetarians in the “cafeteria”
DAY FIVE: SECHELT TO LANGDALE
Also known as the “day of the burrito”.. I’m looking forward to a breakfast as fantastic as dinner was the night before - when I’m faced with a tray of muffins. The coffee - no cream as usual. I love my coffee, and it needs cream. The coffee’s great, but they keep running out, they set it up late, there’s never cream and as Marc can testify, I’m pretty angry without my morning crack addiction. I grab two muffins and try to eat them. They’re nasty. Then some burritos arrive and I try one of those. Not bad. We commiserate with the racer who can’t eat either muffins or burrito due to food allergies. Little did we know....
The course has some changes to take out a long hike-a-bike, which I’m fine with. It starts through a construction site, and despite it being 2 hours post burrito I feel really ill. Marc and I, unaware of how each other was feeling, were both riding at the side of the pack trying to force our bodies to just get it over with and puke while riding. Neither of us manage. Day Five is overall great, but the burrito haunts me. I compose short letters and songs to it. It won’t leave me alone. I ask at the aid stations - and it seems everyone that ate the burritos (that’s almost everyone who had breakfast) is cursing on them. A long uphill that is really quite fun in a suffering sort of way ends much earlier than I remember at the top of a sandy chute and we ride the 13 km of downhill to the ferry. The awesome bridges give way to steeper sections and we rip it all the way down. WAY FUN!!!
DAY SIX: SQUAMISH
Last year this was the day that almost killed me. There were some trail changes this year, but I overall I’m so much less exhausted than last year. I’m still having fun, and we’re trying to go fast rather than just get through the day. I eat granola with yoghurt, giving the burrito a wide berth....
And we’re off! Up through the subdivision into trails that lead up and up, all rideable. I get to ride Tracks from Hell, where last year we got there with approximately 200 other riders and had to walk it with them. I do not fall into the swamp, which seems auspicious. Robs Corners and then some road and singletrack and then some more good sketchy downhill. I LOVE Squamish cross country downhill! Sharp switchbacks and steep sandy chutes on cliff sides, it’s great. There’s more evidence for carnage as people’s bikes and bodies start to show signs of wear. One rider snaps his handlebars, we’ve seen a few broken frames and I’m sure there’s been a lot we don’t know about. Two people are riding with a cracked ribs. I would love a medic’s report at the end of the race, but that’s probably the type of stuff they don’t want to publish...
Marc starts to speed up as we hit lower trails, but I keep holding back. I’m just so scared it’s going to be so much longer than I think - but then I start to recognize trails and realize this really is going to be it! I step it up and we give it all we’ve got until the finish.
Another awesome day.
Dinner, well, for vegetarians - zucchini and eggplant casserole. Marc begs a handful of peanuts from the snack truck. hmmmm.
Most memorable moments
Marc screaming and yelling while riding 40 km/hr down a logging road. This was when a wasp was bouncing around his crotch deciding where to sting
all the “chick power” as various men expressed disbelief that girls could ride this stuff....
Marc augering his front tire into the ground on a logging road and jumping over his handlebars at 50 km/hr and running down the road
that damn burrito
DAY SEVEN: WHISTLER
I remember the start of this day last year, and don’t like it. They’ve shortened the day a lot because people just about died last year, and while that’s good the course is essentially the first part of last year’s course. Straight up under the chair lift with no warm up, then across and down switchbacks, then singletrack. A River Runs Through it is out, which is sad. And the first hill is in, which is sadder. Today’s going to be a sprint. We are 96 seconds ahead of the next mixed team after six days of racing....
The gun goes and we’re off. The first bit of hill is okay, then we’re going straight upwards. And then the sandy uphill hike-a-bike. Long legged people flow around past me as my little short legs flounder and I HATE THIS! Then back on the bikes and more up, more up, more up. The top is full of exhausted people. Marc drank half a red bull and gave me a water bottle with the rest and now I’m hoping for the magic to set in. Today is a sprint, and the course is unrelenting. I’m having more and more difficulty getting people to pull over to let me ride downhill, probably because everyone’s getting really tired. And sometimes we’re faster or slower and riding with “strangers” - who aren’t as likely to pull over as the people you’ve been riding with that know they’ll get me on the next uphill and I’ll move for them. The top of Whistler no one will move for me as they cluster around little steep downhills, so Marc, juiced on redbull, calls back to me to hurry up. His voice booms and grown men jump. I ride through....teeheeheee. Then down the switchbacks, which are quite fun. Eventually some more hills, which I didn’t think needed to be there at all, then the last road climb and up a hike a bike staircase - and down to the finish. We lost our lead and our fight for eleventh is over; after seven days we’re 12th by 6 minutes...
We’re done, that’s it. I think the race organizers are a bit done too, because they’ve arranged some burgers for us and then we’re on our own. We sleep on a bench after washing up in the public bathroom and hang out for a bit.
Andy, Paul and Jack rode Whistler bike park while Angie did a road bike ride towards Pemberton. We meet up and get brought back to Vancouver, then go to the beach for a BBQ Vancouver style with some old and new friends.
And then I asked Marc :”So - what would you do differently next year?”
RACE PARTNERS MAKE IT, OR NOT...
Race partners make or break this race for me
- race partners can physically help push you uphill, can feed you and put Red Bull in your water bottle. They can pull you along the road sections, let you ride in silence when you need to and talk you through it if that’s what’s helpful. They tell you when you need to eat or drink when you’re too tired and you’ve forgotten, stop and pull out Red Bull because you’re crashing, get you recovery drinks and ice for your bleeding spots
- race partners can make you want to push harder to not disappoint them
- race partners can make you want to hurl hard and pointy objects at them
- there were lots of teams that worked together, and some memorable ones that just didn’t. Your race will suck if you spend seven days chasing someone or waiting for someone that you think is an asshole, incompetent, didn’t train enough, or you just don’t like that person any more. Hope you’re not married to them....
- you can ride solo, but your race will be so much better if you have someone to spur you on, share the agony and the exhilaration, help you when you’re wrecked and only halfway through the day, admire your bleeding legs and overall share what is really a very intense week of your life.
- If you’re slower - stop apologizing and start expecting real help rather than just feeling small and slow. And if you’re faster - start helping. You’ll be there faster, and just possibly you’ll need help later on.
- so ... pick well, and then try to be a great race partner.
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