BC Bike Trip 2017

Hello Everyone,

Rather than clog your inboxes with a bunch of separate emails, I thought I would challenge your attention span by putting them all in one. I'm just past the mid point of this trip, so I'll be adding to the post as the days go, but I figured I would publish now, in case you wanted to get a head start. It's like five regular posts in one already.

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Day 1 - Stereotypes save me time

I'm sitting on a converted school bus on my way from Vancouver to Whistler. The company is called Epic Rides, which I'm sure is in reference to the awesome biking they bring you to, but the ride on the bus itself falls a couple of notches short of 'epic'. It's not bad, it's just that they are overselling with the name.

Behind me is a man from North Carolina. I'm not the type to chat up a stranger, so you may be wondering how I came to acquire this information. The answer? Stereotypes.

As in, we both fit ours: he the loud, poorly informed American. I, the quiet, judgmental Canadian.

The driver was pointing out a few landmarks along the way, and like the other natives, I absorbed this information without response. The Tar Heel behind me went for a more interactive experience.

"When the sign says 100 to Whistler, is that in kilometres?"

"Uh, yes sir. That is in kilometres."

"It's my first time up here in Canada."

You don't say.

The ride was otherwise uneventful, and after 5 hours on the plane, two hours' layover in Vancouver, and a two hour bus ride to Whistler, I had finally made it. I was here to see family and do some biking. Upon seeing my beloved nephew, his immediate response was to completely ignore me and go get his fire fighter hat. Not an auspicious start, but in his defence, he had just woken up. I barely want to talk to myself either when I wake up, so I can't really blame him.

We bonded later while playing with the train set and our shared love of making them crash into each other. And playing with the magnets used to attach the different train car. Magnets. Who even knows how they work? It's crazy.

Day 2 - An embarrassment of riches

The Whistler area, and the Sea to Sky corridor which includes Squamish and Pemperton, is one of the biggest mountain biking areas in the world. There are hundreds of kilometre of trails. Even the bike I rented is a 'BC edition', meaning it's beefier and more rugged than the regular, already very high end, model. Rest assured, there is no 'Ontario edition', much less an 'Ottawa edition'.

With so many world famous trails to choose from, where did we spend most of our time? On mountain access roads. You see, to get up to the trail head for many of the best trails, you have to climb the mountain yourself. In the case of the trail we were seeking, the only way to get there was to climb an access road. And given the speed at which you climb versus the speed of the descent, you end up spending way more time on the access road than the trail itself. It's not ideal, but the fun pays for the trouble, as Grampa used to say.

On this day though, we ended up spending even more time on the road versus the trail. A local with some inside information told us about an amazing, must-ride trail, but one that was built without authorization. There are an unknown number of 'wildcat' trails in the area, built by groups of riders outside of the official biking organization. Like many illicit things, they have the allure of the forbidden. If you can find them.

The thing about wildcat trails is that they aren't on the map. Additionally, if you are trying to avoid being seen my maintenance crews, you are more likely to miss them. And end spending an hour climbing a road to nowhere. Specifically.

Day 3 - Put on the spot

There are questions that everyone asks themselves at some point in their lives. Big philosophical questions. Why are we here? What is the meaning of life? Then there are questions you never thought you'd need to ask, but are surprisingly vexing. I never thought, for instance, that I would need to devote a lot of time to what kind of apple I want to eat. I like apples. One should have a lot of fruit in one's diet. But what exact kind should you go for? Cheapest? Tastiest? Old standard or new variety? That's a lot of time spent on a seemingly simple question.

It's like we all agree on the course of action (eat apples) but then get caught up on a simple detail (which apple to eat).

Add this to the list of things I never thought I would be confused about: what to yell at a bear to scare it off.

Now, it's common knowledge that one is supposed to make noise in the bush to warn bears of your proximity. And when confronted by a bear, they tell you to yell and make yourself big. Simple enough. But they don't tell you exactly what to yell. And that's surprisingly confounding.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" seems popular. As is clapping one's hands. But after doing that several times, then what? Repetition is boring, even when faced by a laconic, decidedly unconcerned ursine.

You may be wondering why this question would occur to me now. Well, today I was confronted with just that situation, and it was surprisingly difficult. Objectively, it wasn't a grave decision, but in the moment, I found myself wondering what to yell.

The epilogue is that the bear finally wondered off into the bush and Jason and I rode past unmolested.

Day 4 - What can go wrong

Murphy's Law is sometimes misunderstood as a piece of hard-won wisdom about the slings and arrows of a mischievous or hostile universe. Things go badly when given a chance. My understanding is that the Law is more like the Boy Scout's 'Be Prepared' motto. Yep, things are going to go bad, so make sure you have the right tools and knowledge of how to use them.

It's why I normally bike with a small collection of tools in my pack to do trail-side repairs when things break. However, I once lost a set of Allan keys when I tried to take them on a plane, so now when I bring my pack to BC, I leave my tools at home. I think you can see where this is going.

Halfway down a fairly intense trail, I snapped the chain on my bike. It's not unheard for this kind of thing to happen, but oddly it was on one of the easier sections of the trail. I knew I should have had tools with me, but Jason had left his in Vancouver and I had left my in Ottawa.

The only advantage of this happening on a hardcore trail is that the remainder was almost all down hill. Don't need to pedal for that. I coasted down to a more commonly used trail, trying to carry my speed around the corners as much as possible.

I finally came across a group of people, one of whom had a little multi-tool which was enough to do the repairs. From there, I could bike back to Jason's.

That afternoon, I not only had my bike fixed at the shop, I went out and bought a couple of tools to bring with me for the rest of the week. I won't be able to bring them back to Ottawa with me, but for the next few days, I'm set. Because, you know, if something can break, it probably will.

Day 5 - 'tis but a scratch

On our first day on the trails, when Jason and I had uselessly spent almost an hour climbing an access road in the search for an illicit trail, only to have to come back down the same road, he said "well, that's mountain biking." It's a more profound statement than it might appear at first.

When you really love an activity, you have to accept the trade offs that it entails. Few things are purely positive. If you only like something for the positives, you don't fully love it. In mountain biking, you have to accept that some times, you're going to miss the trail head or get lost or the map will be wrong, and you'll spend a while arduously climbing a road to no benefit. It can't always be sunshine and rainbows.

Another thing you have to accept is that you are going to fall. As I did, today. Paradoxically, there is a bit of skill in falling. Not so much as, say, managing to clean a difficult feature without falling, but you can arrange it so that you minimize the impact, literally, of falling. Aiming to fall to the side rather than going over the handlebars, for instance.

For me, I fell while trying to descend a steep rock face. It had rained and the surface was slicker than I suspected. I thought if I maintained speed, I could keep my grip, but first my rear tire then my front went out from under me. I landed on my bike, prompting a flash thought that getting the additional insurance was a smart move. As mentioned, I fell to the side, rather than over the front, so damage was minimal. Scuffed my shorts and such.

The worst was that I bruised my right thumb at the palm. It's swollen and tender, but I don't think it's broken. I can put pressure on the bones on the back of the hand.

That's mountain biking. Some times you fall.

#Biking #Travel