Aldergrove

SSS leading an A group up the Aldergrove climb. Photo by Doug Brons. More here.

Nice Pants aka Barber Isn't Dead

Yesterday morning—and I use the word "morning" quite loosely—we headed up to Mt. Fromme to take advantage of the beautiful spring weather. Matt's on the verge of building a shore-friendly hardtail, so I wanted to take him up for some one-on-one work on my Brodie Catalyst.

This is the Pimp Coaster on Lower Crippler. It was in a state of disrepair until a few months ago, but now it's open for business. Matt surveyed the scene, and decided to go for it.

Note the literally man-sized first drop.

With a sleeve full of BMX skills, Matt dropped his front wheel over the edge and committed to the coaster.

The point of no return.

And with a second to re-focus, I caught him coming over the last hump squirrelly and stoked!

Shralptastic.

Matt was also nice enough to take my camera while I hit this massive plank to rock face on Expresso. He clicked the shutter just at the right time!

Light of god, beard of god.

This weekend we're setting out to pre-ride the course for next week's FVMBA Toonie race out at Sumas Mountain, while the road kids hit up what's said to be the best course in the Spring Series.

Airtime of the Week: Haley!

Star of the day, Haley gets airborne up on Mt. Fromme. We're doing some changes on her bike to increase confidence, and it looks like it's working!



Whenever that happens, I make them do it again for another photo. Turbo boostage, and good form too!



And here she is with Jodi laughing about live emailing the proof to Matt Barber. Sorry if she misses the team ride in the morning... we might just have to steal away to the trails again.

Dirt Report: FVMBA Toonie Series #1

The past week's weather left Mission's Heritage Park clear of snow but greasy as all hell. A temperature inversion had us driving through fog all the way from Port Coquitlam through Maple Ridge, but the skies parted just in time for our 8:30 arrival. With 90 minutes before race time, Haley, Jodi and myself registered and set out on a recon lap as Nick B and our honourary teammate Omar were getting sorted.



I think I just about killed Haley. The warm-up lap was our first taste of Heritage Park's trails, and the climbs turned out to be steep and slippery. Fast forward to 20 minutes before race time, and it seemed like we were farther from the start line than at any point in the past 40. We asked the marshals at the top of the worst climb yet which was the fastest way back. They pointed us down Corrie's Corners, the descent of Lap 2, steep and gnarly enough to have me behind the seat of my resurrected steel Brodie hardtail.


Feeling bad about leading the girls on such a treacherous warm-up, we arrived as the field was lining up. There would be no time to ride to the car for the pre-race organic banana that Dr. Berry would prescrible. The field was in good spirits in the late winter sun, and we each lined up behind the people who looked faster than us. A very large cowbell sounded the start, and we were off on the gravel path out-and-back to spread out the pack.

The vast majority of the race course was tight, flowy singletrack without much room to pass, so Nick and I pushed hard to gain as many positions as possible in the gravel hammerfest. As expected, I lost sight of Nick before the singletrack began, but felt OK with my position somewhere near the front. Omar didn't have such good luck, though.


As soon as he hit a bump on the singletrack, the head of his vintage Syncros seat post blew apart and he was forced to head back to the start and figure something out. With memories of helping the inventive street cyclists at Our Community Bikes, he tied his Flite to the post stub and headed back out to the course. The result? I solid mid-pack showing on his Chromag Samurai, and the unspoken award for most hardcore performance. (Ironically, Nick thinks he may have donated that ill-fated post to OCB.)


In her first race as a Mighty team member, Jodi made the sensible choice to keep the heavy, but grippy downhill tire on the front of her Brodie Ethos. Her technical riding background paid off on today's course, and apparently the 2.7 pound tire didn't hold her back too much as she finished mid-pack with a smile on her face.


With a few weeks off the trails, Haley was sure to be challenged by todays course even without my death march warm-up lap. In a discipline of riding that's kicking her ass into learning technical skills beyond the cross course, Haley's efforts are awesome to say the least. She came through with a classy victory salute finishing her first ever mountain bike race.


My own race went quite well. After the pack settled out, I lost a few spots and gained a few spots in the first series of climbs, but stayed within the top 15 as far as I could tell. I was on pace with the highly skilled Jean-Ann Berkenpas of the Local Ride crew, and a guy on an Orbea 29er that could not keep his bike upright whenever the trails went downhill. Jean-Ann and I were riding well together, and we even enjoyed a good conversation as the first lap's climbs subsided.

After a ball-busting trip off the trail right in front of Jean-Ann at the end of Lap 1, I had hoped to make up some time on the gnarly descent we'd ridden just before the race start. However, I was losing steam and slowly made my way up the steep climb to the top. I passed a guy who was riding single speed after a malfunction, and rode it out to the finish solo. On the final pitch, I swear I surfed my bike on its side more than rode it, but made it out unscathed. The bike that was supposed to introduce me to XC racing had finally laid tracks on a local course.


Ever-complaining about his Jamis XC machine's noodly feel, our hero Nick Berry was neck-and-neck with the eventual race winner until a blunder on a technical section (wasn't that the whole race?) allowed his rival to pull a gap that never closed. Nick ended up with a very respectable 2nd place finish, just 30 seconds behind the leader over a 43 minute span. Back in his street gear, our number one stunna was all full of attitude.



The post-race beers, bananas, and banana bread were well-deserved, and we later won beer cozies for our efforts at the finish line.

Here we have Nick with possibly my worst podium shot of all time, winning back twice his race entry (a cold four dollars) and a water bottle that says "Put Some Fun Between Your Legs." Nick also ended up taking home a pair of spd shoes in size 10.5 after out-guessing myself and some locals in a Fraser Valley mountain bike-specific trivia contest.


The first of the FVMBA's Toonie series gave us with great weather, amazing smooth singletrack, and a good time with a bunch of good people. At 2 bucks a race, you can bet we'll be out at the next race on Sumas Mountain, Sunday April 3.

Mini-Training Camp

Race season is right around the corner so Mighty decided on a little trip to work on the form. Some teams head south to warmer climes but there is nothing like some of the BC roads to harden you up. We piled into the vehicles and headed a few hours up to Lillooet where there is no such thing as a flat road and the winds test your mental toughness. Throw in a little gravel and snow and the Spring Series suddenly looks like a recovery ride...

The sun was out as we hit the road on day one.

Day two was sunny but about 1.5 hours in the Bridge River valley gets a little shady and as the elevation gained, the white stuff was part of the day.

A little debris on the road doesn't stop any self-respecting CX team.

Quick, somebody teach me how to shoulder a bike.

The climbing kept us warm.

Meat pondering... The first dam and day two turn-aound point is right around the corner.

Earlier in the day two ride. The gravel roads were awesome.

The view we enjoyed for the three days of Nick Berry leading us up all the climbs. But he was also our chef who kept us fueled for more punishment with incredibly tasty and healthy food.

Just a mini-training camp but we are already trying to decide when we are going back. Most likely we will frequent the area a few times this spring/summer as the riding/scenery was incredible. Best part was in three days there were ZERO stop lights...

Nimby Fifty Registration is Today

Haley, Jodi, myself, and the Sportsmans have signed up for the Nimby Fifty, a 35km Marathon XC race in Pemberton on Saturday May 28, 2011. There are only 300 spots so if you're interested in joining us, go here to register, quick!

Word on the street (or the trails?) is that the route is mostly singletrack, and much smoother than our local conditions. People have called it tougher than the Test of Metal because there's not as much time to rest (the Test's route uses a lot of gravel roads for climbing).

Get fast like Nick Berry!

500 Bucks: Apparently the Value of Good Team Strategy

In February 2006, Lyle and Nick Towill came back with legendary stories from a race which had them ride the wrong way down Water Street in Gastown with 20 other people, and otherwise scramble around town on their old steel bikes. I was intrigued by the idea of a courier race, somewhat of a "day in the life" of a courier. At the time, my only bike was a 35 pound BMX, and it didn't go anywhere fast.

Fast-forward five years, when the following information comes our way:

Sat February 12th 2011
Crab Park 3pm
$5 and Clothing donation for the homeless(full bag)

No bullshit No sponsors Just str8 up $500 for 1st place
Brought to you by Jeff Fucking Curry
Come enjoy the Oldest alley cat in North America

The covered, yet unsheltered gazebo at Crab Park left something to be desired as the remnants of a cold front pushed their way through the city. As racers and volunteers filtered in and huddled around their bags of clothes, there was word that Jeff was running late. Being the longest running courier race in Vancouver history, I doubt this was a first.

The best way to stay warm is on your bike—and out of the rain. Nick and I headed for the tunnel at the west end of Waterfront, running loops up the hill to Cordova Street. Nick asked how I was feeling. My response: well-rested and well-fed; he had one of the two. Without explicitly saying so, it became clear that we would ride as much of the race as possible together. Both our cyclocross bikes were well-prepared with slick tires, fenders, lights, and a personal water supply.

I left Nick to ride over to Super Champion and tighten a screw on my front light. Jeff Curry rushed in the door and passed off the second round of manifests to Jamie and Nick. Back at Crab Park, everything was sorted less than an hour after the 3pm meet time.

After a hundred yard LeMans dash down a muddy hill, we retrieved our bikes from the beach and got on the road. First to the initial checkpoint and dropoff spot for the bag of clothes, Nick and I missed the address and looped the block, arriving with a rush of couriers to ascend a narrow staircase.

While others scrambled for their bikes on the side of Hastings and took off in all directions, Nick and I pulled out our manifests and did some strategizing. Twelve checkpoints scattered from railtown to south downtown, kitsilano, and deep in east van. Six picks and six drops, with a fair amount of distance to cover—this much was in our favour.

Fortunately the rain was letting off, leaving it its wake a strong and unpredictable wind. We decided on a counter-clockwise loop after knocking off the railtown pickups. On our way back through the downtown eastside, we crossed paths with many of the other racers frantically checking off their lists.

Finding volunteers to sign manifests turned out to be more of a challenge than finding racers, which isn't surprising considering the $500 prize for first place. After crossing to the south side of the Granville Bridge—one of the farthest points from the race's start—we reached the first of the three unmanned checkpoints.

We ran into another racer at that spot. Sarah had seen us at the Howe Street stop and wondered how we got to the south side so fast. Taking our picture with my phone to prove we'd been there, we were all headed in the same direction and took off east. Nick pulled out his first instance of the patented afterburner and pulled me along the next straight stretch, leaving our new companion to push her own wind.

32 blocks east, we reached the last of the unmanned checkpoints. Pulling out my cell phone to take a picture, we quickly remounted and bombed the hill back toward downtown.





Arriving at Super Champion, the end of the first manifest, we found out we were in the lead so far. Excellent. Just the motivation we needed to keep hammering. The second manifest, which only the first ten racers would receive, had all the same checkpoints in a different order. We asked about the unmanned checkpoints, and were told to "figure it out."

Somewhat drained, I was not as quick at working out the order for our second loop. Nick ate a clif bar while I had a Berry-approved organic banana. We got heckled for strategizing instead of hammering. A couple of close stops down and we were on our way for another long haul. I felt the banana boosters kick in as we left the yaletown stops en route to the south foot of Howe and another trip over the Granville Bridge.

Along the way, we discussed the possible moral decisions regarding the unmanned checkpoints. Having the phone with us, we would be able to prove without a doubt that we visited all of the checkpoints both times. If someone took advantage of the system by skipping the farthest-out checkpoints on their second run, so be it. If we didn't leave this race with the purse, we would at least leave with our honour.

The wind had picked up and seemed to be coming directly sideways as we crossed the bridge. I was unable to catch any semblance of a draft, and struggled to keep Nick's wheel over the span's crest. Having not raced in 8 months and focusing more on technical riding than pushing my lactate thresholds in that time, I was suffering behind the man who really did succeed in using cross-country mountain biking as winter training a year earlier.

Arriving at our last unmanned checkpoint at 1st and Commercial, we only had a few more stops before we'd find out if there was another manifest or if the race was over. Like the saucy receptionists he spends his day serenading, Nick Towill asked us what the hell took us so long to arrive. He said Sarah had already been through with "more of that manifest completed than you guys have." Little did he know we were almost finished. Matt Barber had unsurprisingly left his checkpoint by the time we arrived.

With the last of our checkpoints finished, I asked Nick if he was going to leave me in his dust on the final stretch, as he most definitely had the ability to do. He assured me we would finish as a team. We'd been through this thing together, and the pot was so big that neither of us would complain about splitting it.

We appeared to have startled the group of couriers smoking outside as we rushed in to the finish at 245 Main. There was to be no third manifest, and we had arrived first. As long as our paperwork checked out, we would be declared victorious. Since both Nick and I have worked as couriers, we would also be eligible to keep the trophy dating to 1995 for the next year.

Here's a very rough map of the extent of the race, without the twists and turns of our exact route. This pegs our route at more than 30km, with almost 30 stops.

Jeff was very secretive about what black magic would determine the actual winner. In the past, he's been known to throw a wildcard in at the last minute, forcing racers to compete for the grand prize. What we did know is that we had hit all the checkpoints on both rounds, and got to the finish first. In any case we would not be accused of cheating to win, and my phone would be there to back us up just in case.

Upon receiving the 16-year-old trophy of concrete and bike parts at Pat's Pub, Nick gave a short speech about eating well and properly warming up before racing. We promptly bought a round of beers and split the rest of the cash. This could be my biggest prize haul all year, and it's only February. Along with the safe keeping of the trophy, we are now tasked with organizing the 2012 St. Valentine's Massacre.

I tried my best to keep Matt Hornland from making it to the Mighty ride in the morning. Nick would be there to update the team on the ongoings and unbelievable prize haul. Having taken Friday and Saturday off of trail riding, I was itching to get to the Shore. If you want to know what it takes to stay at the top of the cyclocross field year after year, don't look at what I'm doing. At least I can claim to be a part of a great team, and have a hunk of metal and concrete to remind me of it.