“They look happy, don’t they?” My Trans-Rockies race partner, Cath Zeglinski
was referring to a photo on my sister’s Facebook page. It showed a group of people on a large
inflatable tube, adrift on Calgary’s Bow River, laughing and enjoying the
sunshine. After a recent house party
with my sister I can also speculate that numerous vodka jello shots preceded
this floating expedition and much merriment would have been had. Cath and I wondered what was wrong with us –
why didn’t activities like these ‘do it’ for us? It seemed so much easier than flogging
ourselves over large mountains for a week on our mountain bikes, and yet, there
we were, four days in with the gloss fading on the adventure. We still had three days of leg-grinding,
ass-hammering riding to come.
Our Rv campsite in Fernie
Although spectacular in their own right, I don’t believe the
Canadian Rocky Mountains rival the Swiss Alps for breath-stealing ability. Perhaps it’s due to the lack of scale,
charming Euro villages and exotic native tongue? What the Rockies do have is the best
singletrack I’ve ever raced. The first
three days based in the British Columbian town of Fernie were a highlight and with
stages climbing up to 1700 metres in the relatively short distance of 35
kilometres there was scarce flat ground to be found. This was offset by the endless descending to
the point of forearm cramp and incinerated brake pads.
Bombing down the infamous Porky Blue trail I had several
life-reviewing moments due to the loose surface and steep, narrow ride-line
with the severe consequences of rocketing off a cliff if I lost
concentration. At the bottom the trail
ended abruptly, entailing some grappling across a landslip, bike on one arm,
the other arm clinging to shrubs as an anchor.
Sorry – I didn’t see rappelling gear on the equipment list! There was no mention of ‘flow’ at the
post-stage gathering, just high fives that we had all lived. A lot of riders expressed negative emotions
about this type of riding, but for me, this was real mountain-biking where I
was put to the choice of slowing down, walking or choosing to ride it out. It elicited that slightly nauseous feeling
and the thought that this was not really what a responsible person should be
doing when they have a dependent child and a business to be able-bodied
for. I call this ‘fun’.
Those used to groomed mountain-bike specific trails were
more enthralled by the third stage at the Fernie Alpine Resort. When we thought we had finished climbing we
rounded the corner to see yet another climb leading to some audible “you’ve got
to be f***ing kidding??” from riders behind me.
This was quickly forgotten once I hit the cracking descent from above
the chairlift all the way down TNT and Rumpelstiltskin downhill trails. I can only portray the buzz of these trails
by saying I lay in my bed at 10pm that evening still grinning. The berms; the wood jumps; the rock drops –
and the sheer speed that my lactic hands were unable to mitigate.
When I signed up for the TR a year before, the pairs entry
was the only seven day option. The solo
entry was a later addition but I thought a week of solo racing would be too
mentally challenging so I chose to partner with a stage race veteran. Cath and I met at Cape Epic in 2010 when I
was being dragged around South Africa by a stronger team mate and hating
life. This time it was my turn to take
the wind, try to find a shared pace and cajole a team mate to the end of each
stage. On the final day I used the
incentive of a watermelon martini to keep my partner’s thoughts positive
however it backfired when we became so fixed on cocktails we missed a turn-off
and had to backtrack. Focus! It was humbling to ride with a tough (read:
stubborn) woman who turned up for more punishment each day and never downed
tools until the race was run and won. It
got me thinking again about what exactly motivates us to endure this in the
name of adventure.
Several wildlife boxes were ticked: deer, elk, moose and one
ridiculously cute chipmunk. I had a
yearning to see a bear or a cougar (preferably from a distance) but they
remained elusive. Another ‘first’ was
nine days in an RV with two relative strangers.
I’m at my most stressed and pedantic during racing so being confined in
a small space with others was another challenge of the event. Our soigneur, Pete, endured the machinations
of two, erm, assertive women with very particular requests down to the amount
of marbling each cut of steak should possess.
That he did not turn to drinking heavily is quite surprising to me. By day five I expected us to wake and find
all Pete’s gear gone and a ‘Dear Janes’ letter on his pillow.
After 12 years this was the last edition of the Trans
Rockies with the event transforming into the Singletrack 6 for 2014. Details are sketchy at the moment but the
trails alone are enough for me to sign up again. In a happy coincidence my sister has chosen
to be married in Canada the week after the race – I love it when things just
work!
Winning women's team - Cath and I!
SPONSORS AND GEAR:
Essential items for the Trans Rockies winning team –
Giant XTC Advanced - light on the way up, smooth on the way
down
Ride Mechanic Bike Milk – rewards you for not cleaning your
bike too well. Coat, wipe to clean, coat again and leave it alone!
Ride Mechanic Moonshine – Chamois cream still in development
and I have been a very satisfied guinea pig
Shotz Nutrition – Banana-berry & Mango-passion gels with
Wild Bean for a caffeine emergency. Choc
Caramel recovery bars are soooo damn tasty with gluten free goodness.
Schwalbe Tyres – Nobby Nic for traction at the front, Racing
Ralph for speed at the back. Punctures
during TR7 = nil
For The Riders – Best bike shop ever! Bike was prepped to race and not a single
mechanical
SRAM – Brakes and drivetrain took a hammering and came out
on top
NS Dynamics – fully serviced fork pre-race: my hands and
arms thank you!
Monza Imports – Louis Garneau helmet and shoes received
approval from the Canadians
PCS Coaching – Thanks Donna for making sure I didn’t do too
much and turned up fresh!
Ryders Eyewear Canada – I can’t find these glasses in
Australia yet, but the Ryders Via model with photochromatic lenses were
incredible. Shady on the exposed
ridgelines but clear in the forest.
