defining mountain biking...

“Welcome to Hell!” was what the marshal assigned to checkpoint 23 (or was it 24… maybe 25… the haze surrounding my grey matter blurred a lot of the details.) taunted me with as I rode past his skull and cross bones flag that he had erected on the other side of the trail. “I don’t want to tell you that it only gets worse from here – but it does!” My first thought was that I think he actually did want to tell me that it got worse ahead and my second, more chilling, was -- did he actually know about the almost 10 km hike-a-bike over flat terrain that I had just completed with my mud clogged bike on the north section of Tom Snow. The only “user groups” that frequent that section of trail are the free range cattle and the ranchers on horses who churn that low lying area east of Moose Mountain into a hellacious, soupy swamp where the mud is more than a little bit questionable in terms of its bacteria content. I guess the other users of this trail are us mountain bikers that sign up for the Bow-80 every year so we can endure what the gracious marshal coined “Hell” and come out on top triumphantly no matter which finishing position we are battling for.

Even as I write this, the dull pain of yesterday’s Bow-80 lingers in my legs trying its best to not let me forget the mix of agony and satisfaction that I, and close to 200 others, endured. That is XC mountain bike racing for you. That short narrative doesn’t describe your average XC race but the “grand narrative” of personal accomplishment is echoed at every race. There are several things that set mountain biking apart from other cycling disciplines and those are the things that will ensure that I keep coming back to the sport that captured me. I will attempt to list, for me, what defines mountain bike racing. I should also point out that I take part in and enjoy most niches of cycling and those that I don’t participate in myself, I still respect greatly. This is not meant as a comparison to other cycling disciplines but as a personal look into what I love about racing.

The single-most, defining aspect of XC mountain bike racing is the art of mastering technical difficulties that a course throws at you while you are in a state of physical duress. This is paramount to the sport and is part of every good race course. A rider brings herself to the point where, if she were on a wind trainer indoors, she would have her head down and saliva dripping off her chin. In the world of mountain bike racing, that is exactly when we throw a 100 metre descent at her with 9 turns, 3 drop-offs, and countless trees to avoid that come within inches of her handlebars not to mention the seemingly infinite roots under her tires, some to find a way over and others just to distract her. Or… perhaps she needs to climb up 100 metres with the same obstacles all doing there best to impede forward movement. The technical prowess of a rider truly is an art. One that I never tire of watching an artist perform.

The second part of my collection of what defines mountain bike racing is that it is not for “fakers” or “excuse-makers”. If you’ve ever been part of a mountain bike race you’ll remember the surreal moments in the last few seconds before the starter pistol breaks the quiet sound of the athlete’s nervous shallow breathing. I have been racing for about ten years now and I still get butterflies before I race (that is an improvement over throwing up with nervousness like I did when I started in my Junior days). That nervousness comes from knowing that your quads, heart and lungs are going to be in a world of pain in seconds and there is nowhere to hide and no one to point the finger at but yourself if things don’t work out in your favour. You can’t hide in the pack and show up for the “important” part of the race. You can’t “sit in and just finish with the pack”, there is no pack most of the time. If you try you’ll likely be spit out the back and be dropped like a soiled chamois. Eighth place is better than ninth place which is better than tenth place. Results that just say “same time” are a non-existent reality. The race isn’t over in one to five minutes. You’re going to have to suffer to success or suffer to humility or just give up like a loser. In the end it is you and what you could offer up on a given day.

Mountain biking is painful. Not in a meaningless sort of way or in a way that needs to be remedied (although occasionally it is that sort). It is the type of pain that is simultaneously rewarding. If you’ve never thought about letting the air out of your tires and claiming you double flatted so you could end your race early with some sort of dignity, you’ve never raced XC mountain bikes. It’s universal as far as I know. I’ve had races that I have literally finished in tears from exhaustion and joy that I finished in spite of the exhaustion. I’ve raced La Ruta de los Conquistadores and on Day One, in 2006, brought myself to the point where I and the soul of my very being were separate and were able to dialogue about the essence of existence. I exaggerate to make a point but honestly that is what it felt like. Pain and suffering are synonymous with racing your mountain bike long distances.

Lastly, in the definition of mountain bike racing, is that it is joy. I use the word “joy” because I don’t feel comfortable using the word “fun”. Yes, of course mountain biking is fun, and I believe we should incorporate the absolute maximum amount of fun into our races and the time before and after. However, if I’m burrowing down to the core of what defines my mountain bike racing, I have to choose the word joy. Mountain bike racing brings me joy when (or after) I’m suffering. It brings me joy when I look forward to the next epic race. It brings me joy when I rail that ridiculously gnarly section of trail in the BC bike race! Mountain bike racing is one of the things that gives me great joy in my life. It is beat only by faith, family and relationships with friends but it weaves its way through those aspects of my life as well.