THIS WEEK IN PRO CYCLING
A Fred’s Eye View: Riding the TransRockies Challenge
It was during the 72nd kilometer of stage 5 of the TransRockies Challenge that my go juice ran out.
The once-rolling trail had turned abruptly skyward, clawing its way vertically over loose sand and boulders. My bike was no longer a means of transportation; it became an awkward, heavy anchor that I pushed and all-too-often banged into. The sun emerged from behind the clouds, and the haze from a nearby forest fire lifted. It was hot. I hiked. And hiked.
I imagined my brains boiling in my head and puffs of steam blowing out of my ears, like Yosemite Sam might do after swallowing a stick of TNT.
The scenery was world class —craggy Limestone ridges of the Kootenay Rocky Mountains spidered off into every direction. I grabbed quick glimpses of the view whenever the sweat left my eyeballs.
Before the hike-a-bike, I had enjoyed the company of Canadians Wendy Simms and her teammate/husband Normon Thibault. But the two floated effortlessly up the incline, and preferred to hold their lead in the mixed category, rather than wait for the clumsy reporter, stumbling and cursing behind. Rider after racer sped past, bike in hand, all scurrying to reach the summit, a good 2km walk ahead. Whatever competitive spirit I had at the start of the day was gone and I saw no reason to chase. As the Canadians say, my giv’erator was completely busted.
I understood why moments like this often had riders labeling the race the “Trans-Walkies.”
Why hike with your bike?
It’s no secret that the world of multi-day mountain-bike stage races is expanding faster than that six-pack of Kokanee I left in the freezer. This year the Trans Scotland, Trans Wales, Trans Germany and BC Bike Race events entered the game, doubling the market for off-road stage racers, who previously had only the TransRockies, Trans Alp, Cape Epic and La Ruta de los Conquistadores on the menu.
As several race promoters and marketing people have told me, an event’s flavor is its key selling point. Everything from the color of the tents that riders sleep in, to the bacon bits in the scrambled eggs served at breakfast helps make that flavor unique. At the end of the week, it’s the overall experience that racers will remember and, hopefully, pass on to their friends.
The strategy seems to be working, at the moment anyway. The TransRockies does minor marketing campaigns in Canada, however race relies heaviest on word of mouth for attracting new business. The 2007 race sold out its 300 team spots in only 10 days.
Of course it’s the riding conditions that matter most, and that’s what really gives each race its distinct taste. The Trans Alp has its zillions of feet of climbing on fire roads. BC Bike race has its rooty, swooping singletrack. La Ruta has its sticky jungle mud. And the TransRockies has its rocky, technical descents and gruelingly steep hike-a-bike sections.
Yep, that’s right — twisted as it sounds, the TransRockies promoters want their customers to hike their bikes uphill. The toil is all part of the challenge.
“Our goal is to give our riders a physical test,” Chester Fabricius, one of the race’s four owners told me on my drive out from the Calgary airport. “This is the race that our customer has been training all year for, and its not easy, not by any means.”
The Misadventure begins
In this job I occasionally find myself in some corner of the world with an opportunity to throw a leg over a borrowed fat-tire steed in the name of a personal journalism. My last try was at South Africa’s AbsaCape Epic, where the borrowed bike came from downhiller Sven Martin and the challenge was the steamy, bone-dry 121km stage from Ladismith to Barrydale. The ride was predictably painful — I blew myself up in the opening hour and spent the rest of the day in the pain locker, eventually crossing the line six and a half hours after starting, completely cross-eyed from the trek.
On paper, my TransRockies adventure from Whiteswan Lake to Elkford looked quite doable. The journey followed the tried-and-true TransRockies course profile: after a fast 10 kilometers on fire roads, the course hit two monster climbs separated by a stretch of rolling singletrack. The descent off the second climb plowed through a treacherous rock garden on its way into Elkford. Total distance covered: 93km. Total elevation gain: 1500 meters.
It didn’t sound that bad — I rack up stats similar to that on my road bike most Saturdays alongside VeloNews staffers Matt Pacocha, Ben Delaney and Neal Rogers.
With a rig on loan from Rocky Mountain’s Andreas Hestler, a race plate that read “MEDIA’ and a pocket full of Clif bloks, I was set.
Stepping into a stage race at the midway point had its definite advantages. The 600 other riders groaned to the starting line in Whiteswan having raced for four days — they had the disadvantage of spent legs and tender behinds. Many brandished bandages and fresh scabs.
Clad in a spotless riding kit and clean shoes, I had a tank full of gas. My legs felt like loaded springs in the pedals, waiting to jump onto the course. When the starting gun set us free, I floored the accelerator to speed around the tired masses and get to the front.
Our herd rumbled through the loose logging roads, kicking up a thick plume of dust. Unfortunately I had lost my high-tech Smiths shades during breakfast, so I rocked the Plan B shades: a pair of cheapo gas station aviators. Looking like a filthy Tom Cruise (think “Top Gun”) wanna-be, my eyeballs quickly filled with dust. It was of little concern — my early burst of speed had me rolling just behind Hestler and race leaders Roddi Lega and Tim Heemskerk.
So you probably think you know what happened next — I went too hard too early, detonated, fell off my bike and walked the rest of the way. Not so! Having learned a thing or two from my Cape Epic ride, I checked my ego and effort level once we hit the opening climb. ‘Tis better to finish than to die trying, I reminded myself.
Just like Colorado
I grabbed the wheel of Simms and Thibault, who, in their first try at TransRockies as a team, already owned a one-hour lead in the mixed category. I could see why — although this was day five the two were chugging along at a steady pace. Simms, an Olympic hopeful cross-country racer, said she was using the event as a build-up for the upcoming cyclo-cross season. Thibault acknowledged he was simply trying not to let his wife drop him too badly.
The opening climb led us over loose gravel, through rocky creek crossings and on double-track up into a dry pine forest. In my mind, the scenery and trail conditions evoked images of front-range Colorado. The ensuing descent on a dry jeep road filled my eyes and lungs with blowing dust and dirt — and these were open roads. Trucks carrying ore from a nearby mine rumbled past.
As the strongest rider on the flats, Thibault pulled at the front of our three-person train. Earnestly explaining that it would compromise my journalistic integrity to pull through, I sat at the back and happily munched on food and told jokes.
I longed for those good times two hours later when I struggled in my granny gear to make it up the final steep pitches of climb No. 2. Having dropped me on the hike-a-bike, Simms and Thibault were long gone. And much to my dismay, the climb quickly gave way to a steep, unbelievably rocky technical descent. Riders owning more skill and bravery rumbled past me on the loose boulders, offering war whoops and yells of joy as the sped past. I hung my head in shame as I walked downhill for three punishing kilometers.
My legs and backside throbbed as I crossed the finish line in Elkford half an hour later. Simms and Thibault had put nearly 15 minutes on me in 10 kilometers. I was spent and headed for the showers.
Team after team of TransRockies riders sped in and crossed the line. The sported faces full of dust and salt-stained clothing. Some sprawled out on the grass and closed their eyes, exhausted from the journey. Others headed to nearby massage tables to have five days of continuous rough riding rubbed from their bodies. Content to cover the rest of the race from the media room, I remembered Fabricius’s quote.
“Our goal is to give our riders a physical test.”
Well, he scored on that count.
