THE SHOOTOUT ON ANGLER’S RIDGE – DANVILLE, VA

The 3rd Annual Shootout on Anglers Ridge is a USA Cycling-sanctioned mountain bike race that brings two state series together on the same day. On Sunday June 13th, the Southern Classic Series of North Carolina and the Virginia Off-Road Series will race at Anglers Ridge.

Checkered Pig BBQ and Ribs will be providing post-race grub to all racers and volunteers.

With over $8,000.00 in cash and prizes, this year’s event will be a great one.

Cash payout goes 5-deep to all PRO, Expert and XCAT categories … Men and Women.

Prizes go 5-deep to ALL Sport and Beginner Category/Class combos too.

Click here for race info.

FAT TIRE FRENZY – BEDFORD, VA

The 7th annual Fat Tire  Frenzy and Bike Festival is the weekend of June 18th & 19th at Falling Creek Park in Bedford, Va.  The 2010 race is now part of the Virginia Off Road Series.  By teaming with VORS the Fat Tire Frenzy will be able to offer a more competitive race by drawing racers not only from the area but from throughout Virginia and even beyond.   Please visit the VORS site for additional information about the series.

The 2010 event promises to be the best yet with FREE on site semi-primitive camping  available (and encouraged), a kids (10 & under) mountain bike race, a “bunny hop” competition,  a track stand-off and a mountain bike swap meet!  There is a movie planned for Friday night(Race Across The Sky-private showing for Festival attendees and campers only) along with a ride of the race course, and West Wind will be playing down home southern rock and country music for your entertainment Saturday evening.  Of course, the main attraction will be the cross-country race and NEW for 2010 Mountain Junkies FAT 5 ENDURO race held on Saturday.

Click here for race details RACE COURSE

MASSANUTTEN HOO-HA- HARRISONBURG, VA

The 22nd Hoo-ha! on June 19th & 20th will host the inaugural US Cup Triple Crown pro finals, awarding a #1 plate to the top US pro men and women. This is now the coolest pro race mountain bike series ever–Super D, Short Track, and XC at all 3 to determine the best mountain biker, period. And Massanutten’s the finale!

Click here for race details.

©2010 Big Mountain Riding

The Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race pits riders and bikes in its two-person team format against some of the biggest mountains in the eastern U.S., against the iffy weather of spring at elevation, against the sheer numbers (miles, climbing, time bonuses, etc.) and against themselves. Formerly, and perhaps more accurately, dubbed the Pisgah Death March, this epic celebrated its 8th year in 2010. This is the story of how two intrepid riders from Virginia set out to conquer the odds in this monster race brewed and served up just outside of Asheville, NC – home to a special type of masochistic mountain bike madness.

Story and photos by Randy King

The unofficial Big Mountain Riding team – my teammate Randy Lewis (R.L.) and I – arrived at the 2010 Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race (PMBAR) at 7:20 a.m. in an off and on light rain. It was my fifth PMBAR, and R.L.’s first. It was also his first epic event. Our goals were simple and prioritized: 1. Finish. 2. Finish safely. 3. Finish before dark. 4. Finish strong. 5. Finish close to the middle of the pack.

Gathering in the dawn's early light, pre-race for the 2010 PMBAR

As the gray daylight gradually grew, we went through mandatory gear check and got our number tags.  Then we took down the bikes and geared up. We headed across the road to Davidson River Campground, since Pisgah Productions had sprung for only one porta-john this year (perhaps in the spirit of the general recession?). The 7:50 a.m. pre-race meeting was more calm than in the years of the passport format. [In 2009 the organizers switched to handing out a pre-marked Pisgah Ranger District map. Previously, teams had to supply their own maps and were handed a paper passport with postage stamp sized pictures of the terrain around each check point. They then had to mark off all off-limits roads on their maps pre-race.]  Our team started slowly – in our reading of the map and in getting going. When the race starts at 8 a.m., everybody has to ride the same first stretch of trail – the big climb up Black Mountain to Pressley Gap. So, many just take off and check their map at the Gap. Or, if they’re locals, they know how to get to the checkpoints, and just need to ascertain where they are, not figure out how to get there. We got going at about 8:15-8:20. We rode up the 1400-foot elevation gain Black Mountain climb, catching a few racers, including the first teams having issues (mechanical and physical).

Start to Squirrel Gap Check Point (Getting our flow on)

It's hustle and flow wherever you can in the epic PMBAR

We climbed to more than two miles to Hickory Knob and descended to Pressley Gap.  R.L. rode in a minute later, carrying my water bottle. Not good to lose that on the first downhill. I secured it with a bungee cord. Looking over the map, I decided to go for the fire road to Buckhorn Gap versus climbing across Black Mountain on single track. We put it in the big chain ring and raced down Maxwell Cove road to the next junction. I still wasn’t sure which check point to go to first or exactly how to get there, but we headed for Buckhorn Gap and passed some more people on the forest service road climb to the gap. One guy wanted to pace line with us. I didn’t know what that meant. Then he said we were going a little fast for them. Their team was one of the ones we started to leap frog with for the rest of the day (the cast of characters in our little drama). At Buckhorn Gap, we encountered a big bunch of teams eating and sorting out where to go next.

We snacked, including some “real” food – I had half a turkey and Swiss sandwich.  I picked a route and we took off down the hill on Buckhorn Gap Trail – a trail that started out as doubletrack and narrowed to single as we descended. We hit a junction where I planned on going left on South Mills River trail, to connect with gravel fire road again. However, I pulled out the map to check and saw several teams go right on South Mills River trail. Someone said that this was the way to go, and they were local, so we changed directions. Turned out to be one of the highlights of the ride – nice, flowing singletrack for several miles followed by a technical but rideable climb up to the junction with Squirrel Gap trail. Along the way we enjoyed the flow with two other teams in front of us. However,the pace highlighted one of the weak points of single speed bikes in big mountain riding events. The lead team were two single speeders. On this descending, flowing trail, we could have been using the big chain ring to make up speed. However, the SS’ers were stuck in coasting mode. As we crossed a creek, we got in front of them for a tech climbing section. They too remained recurring cast members.

Another team (Luis Calderon / Karlos Rodriguez) that we leap-frogged all day was with us on that flowing train as well. The one rider had his iPod connected to speakers strapped on his handlebars. As we rolled up on them, he was jamming to Ludicris and trying to get a sing-along going. “Come on, everybody,” he yelled. “Sing it: ‘Roll Out. Roll Out. Roll Out.’” Team “Speaker Box” was quite vocal, and throughout the ride we were entertained by their alternating complaints and braggadocio.

Mid-creek mishaps entertained racers at the Squirrel Gap CP

Our chosen first checkpoint (CP) sat at the junction of Squirrel Gap Trail and Cantrell Creek Trail, beside the rocky crossing of Cantrell Creek. The creek ran in two channels at the crossing, with wet rocks lining both sides and a central rock shoal wetted by passing tires. I rode into it and held together for the crossing and the climb up wet rocks to where 10 teams or so were at the unmanned CP. [Yay for me ] Many other riders were not as fortunate (including my teammate), and the CP’s entertainment consisted mostly of hearing the slide of tires on wet rocks and watching riders or bike pushers go down on the wet stones.

"The Bugs," a Singlespeed team that rocked all day long

Having attained our first CP at about 11 a.m. (approx. 3-hours into the event), we filtered water in Cantrell Creek, losing 10-minutes or so filling our CamelBaks and bottles. I do believe that going forward, I will bring only iodine pills and not a filter. A filter takes up a lot of room in the packs, weighs much more than pills and sucks up too much time. One of the reasons we kept seeing the same people all day is because of the time we spent filtering water.

“The Bugs” caught up with us at the CP. These were the two single speeders who had lead our little train on the flowing descent. Shanna Powell and Laura Goetz were dressed as a bumble bee and a red bug, complete with leotards, tutus and tights and helmet-mounted antennae. They were cheerful and repeatedly caught up with us any time we stopped for more than a few minutes to eat, filter or change a flat throughout the day.

Squirrel Gap Check Point to Bradley Creek Check Point (An uneventful crossing)

Leaving the CP, we worked our way uphill along the flanks of Laurel and Poundingstone mountains. We caught up to another of our “friends” at the crest of the mountain. This was co-ed team whose leader – the guy – kept leaving his teammate far behind on every climb. He would wait for her – sometimes for 20-minutes or so – only at the top of the climbs or right before the CP. She was cheerful throughout the day, riding alone. However they clearly violated the spirit of the event (and the rules, which say that teammates must remain within shouting distance of each other).

Chilling with the famous and popular Bradley Creek Check Point host, Mark

As we turned our wheels downhill on Poundingstone Mountain, we dropped down along Laurel Creek to Bradley Creek and our next CP. Laurel Creek trail provided some entertaining switchbacks, water bars and proved aptly named. In some sections, riding crop-like Laurel branches choked the trail and thwapped our knuckles, arms and faces as we tried to see the trail through their shiny, thick leaves. We had to follow the orange blazes here, because offshoot trails ran in all directions along the creek. At the bottom we crossed Bradley Creek’s wide and rocky flow and made our way up into a field to our second CP. This was our deepest fording, and very mild by Pisgah standards. In years past I have crossed creeks going on three-feet deep. Here, the water didn’t exceed 18-inches. One could probably have rode across.

We checked into our second CP around 12:30 p.m. At the Bradley Creek  CP we met up with our amigos again, and took pictures with the unsuspecting CP host, whom I had declared a ‘popular guy’. He was quite surprised when The Bugs wanted a photo with him. One of the riders, Mr. Leave-Her-Behind, related a story from Pisgah Productions other race, the Pisgah 36 (basically two consecutive days of PMBAR distances and elevation gain spiced with random challenges and time cut-offs – formerly and more accurately called The Most Horrible Thing Ever). He said teams had to shotgun three Pabst Blue Ribbon beers at Bradley Creek CP for the Pisgah 36.

Bradley Creek Check Point to Spencer Gap Trail Check Point (Hammer Time)

A moment to celebrate - attaining our first CP

Leaving Bradley Creek, we started up a prolonged fire road climb to Yellow Gap and Forest Service Road (FSR) 1206. “Hey, are you locking out your suspension on these climbs?” R.L. asked. I was not. How many different adjustments on my Fox suspension? Every climb from then on, I locked out the fork and the shock. It really conserved my energy. We climbed from 2450 feet to 3200 feet elevation in about 3 miles or so. Once again we shed teams on the climb like a dog after a hard winter, catching the last of five or so teams as we approached the gate at Yellow Gap. On FSR 1206, we faced a high speed gravel road descent and our first road open to vehicular traffic. We dropped down the sweeping switchbacks, riding at each one’s personal limits for risk tolerance. One tire slide out would peel off flesh in massive road rash. FSR 1206 took us right through our campground, North Mills River Recreation Area. We filled water at the campground, glad for the time-saving faucets. Going out of the campground, we faced a paved and gravel road climb up Wash Creek Road to the next CP.

This proved our strongest leg. We pushed tall gears on the climb wherever the road bed eased its grade, and we passed about ten teams on the climb to the CP at the junction of FSR 5000 and Spencer Gap Trail. I knew I was pushing a tall gear, but at one time I was surprised to look down and see I was in the big chain ring up front. All along the climb we met teams flying down the hill at high speeds. Starting out on the paved final section before the gate, we would hear the singing tires of the descenders before they hove into sight, and the air smelt of hot brakes. We attained the CP faster and easier than I thought we would. I almost missed it, as it was off to the side on a gated-off road, and almost hidden by trees. I looked up that side road to see if it had a lot of tire tracks, and saw the flicker of colored banners. The CP volunteer here had planned for a long day, and was close to the road so he could easily provide for his comforts. Cigar smoke drifted around the little open-sided tent, and a cooler held his cold beverages of choice. After checking in around 2:45 p.m., we only spent about five minutes or less at this CP.

Spencer Gap Check Point to Turkey Springs Gap Check Point (Moments of doubt and pain)

Between us and the next CP were two gravel road descents and two monster climbs. We put the bikes into the big chain rings and took off down the hill, riding into all of the teams we had passed. One poor chap was fighting off leg cramps within 200-yards of the Spencer Gap Trail CP. I took the descent slower than I thought I would, hanging with R.L. Still, I almost became the new hood ornament for a Ford F-250 climbing up Wash Creek Road. The driver voiced to me my sentiments toward him as we passed each other on the narrow gravel road. Wash Creek falls down the mountain right beside the road, and an occasional glance in that direction on the climb and descent revealed the creek to be very scenic and clear, with primitive campgrounds scattered along its banks. That’s one of the downsides to going to a great place like Pisgah National Forest for a competitive event versus a ride – you don’t have the time or the excess energy to enjoy the scenery or the extras. On the descent of Wash Creek Road I also saw a big fallen tree that had been modified for a long log ride some five feet off the ground. No time!

Looking at my watch and seeing how much of a gap we had opened on some of our leap-froggers (including the Pace Liners) with our strong climb, I began to dream aspirational fantasies like finishing by 6 p.m. – in time for the raffle drawing of the Industry 9 wheels, and a seemingly nice round number for a finishing time. I even floated the fantasy of going for all five CP’s. However, as we zoomed down the final stretch of Wash Creek Road – paved and closed to traffic – R.L. said he needed to stop in at the restroom in the campground. We both used the restroom there, refilled water at the spigots and ate. We lost about 20 minutes at North Mills River Campground on our second stop there. As R.L. wolfed down a peanut butter bagel at the water spigot, team Speaker Box rolled through and headed up FSR 1206. “Ain’t nobody that can descend gravel roads like I can,” hollered the following member of their team as they rolled past. “I’m the ____ at gravel downhills!”

Leaving the campground on FSR 1206, we faced one of the day’s biggest climbs, the daunting gravel road ascent back to Yellow Gap. Freshly fed, buoyed by our killer leg to Spencer Gap Trail, and feeling better after the bio break, we targeted a few of the teams that had just passed us at our campground stop. Unfortunately for them, team Speaker Box didn’t like gravel road climbs as much as descents. We caught them on the climb up FSR 1206, as well as another team. We were also passed by a team putting down a very motivated pace. From their speed and hunkered down look I had to ask if they were going for all five. “Yep.” they responded, and left me in the pale gray dust of the gravel road.

Attaining Yellow Gap, we snacked and watched as the two teams we had passed on the climb struggled up to the gap. The team dynamic really comes into play on big challenges. The two teams we passed were quite unevenly matched on the climb. The lead rider of the second team we caught was climbing strong, while his teammate was standing still when we passed him, taking a breather beside the gravel road. I have been in their shoes. The first two years that I  tackled the Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race, my teammate Darren Wood was a much stronger climber than I. I remember struggling just to grind granny gear up the FSR 1206 climb to Yellow Gap. The stronger team member has to balance his own riding style with spending some of their extra energy on motivating their teammate and getting them to push their personal limits. Meanwhile, teams like the one that passed me on the climb on their way to all five CP’s operate like a well-oiled machine. Whether that’s because of individual drive, or because of familiarity with each other, I don’t know. However, they were only a bike distance or two apart on that climb, and moving well. While I have become a much stronger rider, and now lead the climbing for the team, I am still learning the team dynamic, and finding the right mix of drill sergeant, motivational speaker and friend.

Lingering only briefly at Yellow Gap, we pedaled off down the other side of the gap on FSR 1206. We had made the choice to go to the base of Pilot Rock via 1206, and hike-a-bike up to the next CP on Pilot Rock Trail, then turn around and descend that tech-rider’s dream. At Yellow Gap we could have turned right onto Laurel Mountain Trail, a ridge line singletrack trail leading up to Turkey Spring Gap. However, I had memories from a past PMBAR of an interminable trail that dropped and climbed over and over again and seemed to never end. My memories of Pilot Rock Trail were from descending it that same PMBAR. I remembered it as a mile or so of very technical, rocky trail. Better to bite the bullet and hike-a-bike for a little than to spend hours on singletrack, I thought. So did many others. This may have been a mistake.

PMBAR racers have to carry all their own tools and repair items

Once FSR 1206 started to climb again, R.L. had a flat in his front tire, and we stopped roadside to change it. Sure enough, our leap-frogging friends began to overtake us. Mr. Leave-Her-Behind had this cheerful observation about our situation: “It’s all good, you know. Get’s you to slow down and enjoy the ride.” He then spun off into whatever oblivion he slipped into as he left his teammate behind on another climb. We got the new tube in place and pumped up as team Speaker Box passed us.

Entering Pilot Rock Trail, things got bad quickly. We crossed a stream on foot and tackled the first climbing pitch. Mr. Leave-Her-Behind and I were able to out distance our teammates and team Speaker Box in short order as we granny-geared it through the mildly technical early part of the climb. I stopped for R.L. at the junction with the Pilot Rock Base Trail, and did not see Mr. LHB until the crest of the trail, some 40-minutes later. We continued to hike our bikes up through rock gardens and steep, rutted trail. Pilot Rock Trail turned out to be 2.5 miles of all climb, not the mile or so I had remembered. I had a flat on my front tire – very odd considering how little riding I was doing at the time. R.L. had the pump, so I pushed my bike to the crest, walking some rideable sections, so that I could get the tire off before R.L. came up.

A rare break to enjoy the views on Pilot Rock

Riders coming down frequently forced us hikers off the trail. One guy had a pep talk for us climbers. “We came over Laurel Mountain Trail. I just couldn’t face this horrible climb up Pilot Rock. It’s just such a morale crusher.” He thought it was about the same time-wise, coming over Laurel Mountain Trail. Thanks, buddy!

At the crest I got the bad news from Mr. Leave-Her-Behind. The CP was not at the crest. No, he told me cheerily. “It’s about a quarter mile downhill from here.” He must have waited for his teammate for more than 20-minutes, atop the ridge. R.L. and his teammate rode up and I pumped up the new tube while Team We Ride Apart descended to the CP. The insects were atrocious and aggressive atop the ridge, and I was bitten multiple times while I struggled with the tube change. Team Speaker Box’s lead rider came up while we finished inflating the tube.

“I was hoping a bear would come out of the woods and kill me,” he said of the Pilot Rock Trail climb. He had to wait for his teammate now. R.L. and I descended to our final CP, meeting our friends of team We Ride Apart coming back out. She was dreading the descent. “Yeah, it will be O.K.,” he drawled. “Once you get going, just let off the brakes and let it happen.” Uh, huh. Riders who don’t like descending are not known for “just letting off the brakes.”

We rode into the Turkey Springs Gap CP at about 5:30 p.m. with a storm building ominously off to the west – hence the insect frenzy.  “Where ya’ll going next?” asked the CP host.

“We’re headed home.” I said. I just wanted to get out of there and get back to base. The fun was over, and it was now a race against the dark. I was not looking forward to the descent of Pilot Rock Trail. Specifically one rock garden. I hoped I would have a safe dismount when I did run out of roll in the rocks.

Turkey Springs Gap Check Point to Finish Line (Get ‘r done)

Pilot Rock Trail is a tech rider's delight on the descent

It was time to finish the thing. We hiked our bikes back up to the ridge, and then pointed the front wheels downhill. Now it became clear why Pilot Rock Trail had seemed so short in my memory. Going down only took 20-minutes or so. We caught up with team We Ride Apart at the stream crossing at the bottom. However, we had to refill water, and we filtered right there at Bradley Creek. This meant that we lost more time. The Bugs came out of the woods and started off up the climb, as did team Speaker Box. Water filtered and 10-15 minutes lost, we started off on FSR 1206 again. I had debated about taking Buckhorn Gap Trail in, or riding further up FSR 1206 to 276 to Club Gap Trail. However, shortly after we got onto Buckhorn Gap Trail, I remembered it from a past PMBAR, and remembered how easy it was. Going for 276 would have been a bad mistake!

We raced against the darkness gathering under the trees. The final descent of Black Mountain Trail would be hairy in low light, and I did not want to stop and put on lights. I middle chain ringed much of the climb to Buckhorn Gap. Onto the gravel fire road, it was big ring time. We caught The Bugs on the climb. Going down the gravel, I reeled in team Speaker Box and another team, Paul Diemer / Gordon Jenks. I picked up the most mud of the entire race on that descent, plowing through a couple of wet spots in my haste. At the junction with Maxwell Cove I waited for R.L. and changed to clear lenses in my glasses. Team Speaker Box, who had been consulting their map in fear of missing the turn-off – a healthy fear – caught up, as did the other team we had passed. R.L. came alongside and we started our final climb of the PMBAR 2010. We reeled in team Speaker Box, now fallen silent and grim as they ground away at yet another gravel climb. Attaining Pressley Gap, we encountered a group of adventure racers or some such, who were gathered in the dusk and asking us about how long we’d be out there and how many more were behind us.

Filtering vs. iodine? Filtering takes a lot of time

Onto singletrack, we pushed our bikes up to Hickory Knob and caught up to another co-ed team and the guys I had passed on the previous gravel road descent. I waited at the top, eager for R.L. to catch up so we could light up that final downhill. I wanted to ask the co-ed team (LeAnne McCann / Jon Carmack) if they’d let us in front, but R.L. was still behind, and I couldn’t ask them to wait for him. Once he crested Hickory Knob we started down Black Mountain. I had a lot of energy and the pressing desire to get home, so I put on the afterburner.

I quickly caught up to the co-ed team, who were riding conservatively. I rode close behind them without crowding. However the guy, who was trailing, began to get nervous and skid a bit in corners. His partner yelled back, asking why he was skidding. “”Cause there is a guy right behind me,” he replied.

“We should let him buy if you’re riding beyond your control,” she hollered.”Ask him if he wants by.”

“You want by?”

“If that’s cool with you,” I said.

“He said ‘if that’s cool with you.’”

“Let him by.”

She was not happy, but they let me by. R.L., descending a minute or two behind me, caught up to them when the guy flatted. It proved to be a bit much for team morale. R.L. reported that they were yelling at each other up and down the hill when he rode past and delivered the bad news about her teammate’s flat.

I waited for R.L. at the last creek crossing, which offered three routes across. In the middle was a two log bridge with a hand rail on one side only and no deck. To the left was a steep U-out that needed some good momentum to ford. On the right someone had built a gap jump kicker. That one would require moxie, mi amigos. Things were tight in that area, and the trail came around a switchback shortly before the crossing. More power to the leapers who cleared that jump. R.L. swept the switchback and went for the U-out. What chutzpah!

Crossing the creek, we were on the victory lap. We dropped down the remaining singletrack to the junction with the doubletrack run out. We skated into the finish line at 7:52 p.m., two minutes after team We Ride Apart, who were snarled in a random gear check (the only members of our leap-frogging friends that we had not caught). We had made it before dark, and before the 12-hour mark. And we could only marvel and admire the Koerbers, who won the race by reaching all five CP’s and still finishing first, at 4:17 p.m. Within ten minutes of our finish the rain that had been building to the west all afternoon arrived, and we moved under the tents with our vegan burritos provided by Pisgah Productions. We wolfed down two, grabbed another two and headed for the car. Time to get out of those stinking clothes, and to celebrate our achievements that first day in May, 2010.

After the Finish Line

Teamwork required - The duo format of the PMBAR means team dynamics play a vital role

Team Big Mountain Riding had ridden approximately 65-miles, climbed more than 9,000-feet, and put in about 10-hours of ride time after subtracting for filtering water, bio breaks, map reading, etc. We met our goals of finishing, finishing safely, and finishing before dark. I felt I finished strong with plenty more remaining in the tank. R.L. had finished his first epic and finished it without having a moment of complete doubt and pain. He had not hit rock bottom; he had rode strong. We also met my goal of setting a personal best, both in time and in placement. We came in about 15-minutes earlier than I had ever done. And we placed 41st out of 75 starting teams.  20 teams were unable to finish the race. Despite the clear expectation-setting done by Eric and the Pisgah Productions crew – the race’s tag line is “Crushing Souls Since 2003″ – people continue to meet their match at the PMBAR. An epic event like this does have its share of mechanical and physical mishaps and meltdowns. All in all though, what a challenge. What an Adventure!

© 2010 Big Mountain Riding

This is what some folks call fun - Big Mountain Riding

Today my fingers betrayed my body, signing me up for the 2010 Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race.

This is a Big Mountain Riding classic, an event I’ve finished three times, and one that almost finished me at least twice. It is a two-person team event, so I’ve convinced a friend to join me in this mad endeavor. Well, after 10-hours of technical riding, friend may not be the most accurate description of our relationship.

Going forward I will highlight our preparations for this beast-mother of an epic, and will debrief it after the fact. To get started, here is the required gear list for the back country adventure:

Required Gear:

1. Helmet. (1 per racer)~~~Racers must wear helmets ANY TIME they are riding their bikes. Uphill, Downhill, Gravel Road or Pavement. Racers not wearing a helmet while riding will be DQ’d.
2. Rain Jacket (1 per racer)~~~ (Plastic Trash bag doesn’t count as a Jacket) Even if it’s 70 degrees and sunny, don’t mess around. I don’t expect anyone to spend the night in the woods… but if you do, you’ll want a jacket. I promise.
3. Water Filter or Iodine (1 per team) ~~~ For the sake of your stomach, and those that will be around you after the race, DO NOT DRINK DIRECTLY FROM RIVERS OR CREEKS.
4. Emergency blanket (1 per racer)~~~ See above
5. Timepiece (1 per team) Watch, cycling computer, telephone, any device with the correct time.
6. First Aid Kit w/ Gauze, Tape, Ace Bandage, etc. (1 per team)~~~ Be prepared for anything!
7. Whistle (1 per team)
8. Lighter (1 per team)~~~ see #2
9. Compass or GPS unit (1 per team)~~~ What good is a map without a compass?
10. Red ‘Blinkie’ rear light (1 per racer)~~~ Riders must burn a tail-light anytime they are on pavement or gravel roads, day or night.
11. Emergency Light Source (Flashlight, LED, etc.) (1 per racer)~~~ There is a good chance your team will be arriving at the start/finish after dark. Bring appropriate lighting to get off the trail.

Can’t you tell how much fun this is going to be just from scanning the list?

©2010 Big Mountain Riding

Find friendly competition at a local race

Local mountain bike races provide a fun format for increasing your skills, feeding the competitive animal inside and meeting other regional riders. Additionally, these homegrown events are often hosted by local bike shops or bike-friendly organizations. So, supporting them supports the local cycling scene (trail access, community awareness, availability of bikes and parts).

However, many intermediate and veteran riders are intimidated by racing, seeing it as a fiercely competitive format for super humans who live on their bikes. Don’t be. If you’ve been riding for awhile, check out the local racing scene to spice up your normal riding schedule and style.

Visit your local bike shop and ask about races, check out their bulletin board or web site. Keep an eye peeled at trailhead kiosks for race posters. Do a Google search for mountain bike races in your area. Once you find one, check out the course, to make sure it is within your skills and abilities. Then sign-up! Go into the event planning to have fun, stay safe, all the while pushing yourself. The experience will change the way you look at riding.

Here is a sampling of upcoming local events in the mid-Atlantic area:

TWISTED TIRE / FALL CUP -  Ashland, VA Sunday, September 13, 2009

MIDDLE MOUNTAIN MOMMA – Clifton Forge, VA Sunday, September 27, 2009

MONTVALE MAYHEM MOUNTAIN BIKE RACE – Montvale, VA, Saturday, October 10, 2009

ASSAULT ON LIBERTY MOUNTAIN – Lynchburg, VA, Saturday, October 24, 2009

TIDEWATER MOUNTAIN BIKE CHALLENGE – Williamsburg, VA, Sat.-Sun., October 25 & 25, 2009

©Big Mountain Riding

Railing the classic bridge on LU's A Trail Too Far

Second Annual Assault On Liberty Mountain

This is a challenging, fun event in the heart of Virginia. Dishing up 19-miles of back-country style riding, the Liberty Mountain race shows off some of the breadth of the trail system (while leaving lots of the extensive trail system to be explored.) Last year’s event was an eye-opener for many regional riders who had not previously pedaled this recently upgraded trail system.

Support local trails! Sign-up as a show of the strength of the local cycling community.

October 24, 2009

Camp Hydeaway

(Google Street Address: Lake Front Dr. Rustburg, VA 24588)

10:00 am START!

Click Here, to download application.

Click Here, to register online.

For more information or questions e-mail Race Director Joshua Yeoman

DOWNLOAD THE COURSE MAPS – GREAT FOR PRE-RIDING COURSE!

Pro/Expert/Sport Course Map

Novice Course Map

Monday, June 22, 2009 – Bedford, VA – More than 50 riders rolled up for the Rally Ride to show support for Blackwater Bike Shop following Saturday’s fire that destroyed the entire complex, including several other area businesses. News coverage matched the show of rider support. Several area news stations were present, including WSET, WDBJ and FOX. The News & Advance also had photographers present and columnist Darrel Laurant was on hand.

Blackwater owner Davy Hazelgrove kicked off the ride with a “thank you” speech, and then everyone headed out on one of two road rides in the Bedford County area around Forest – an 18-mile and 11-mile route. The weather shined on us, with high pressure and partly sunny skies. All bikes were welcome, and the rides ranged from a recumbent to mountain bikes to fixed gear and retro road bikes up to light-weight road racing and triathalon dream machines. Near the ride’s end, a rainbow appeared in the sky over Wyndhurst, a fitting finish to a great show of support, and a unity-building moment for the Central Virginia cycling community.

© Big Mountain Riding

Most of the group at the Forest Sonic

Clothes pulled from the fire and used in clean up

Lining up in the bike shop parking lot pre-ride

Rocking the Retro Raleigh

Local riders got some press coverage

Monday Night Live at the Blackwater Bike Shop

After surviving the onslaught of a fat kid with a super soaker at the Lake Vista pool

A quiet scene on Coffee Road

Spacing out on Coffee Road

Pedaling through the Sonic Drive-thru

Down Time at the Forest Sonic

Chowing down on Chili Dogs at the Forest Sonic

Sonic supports the local bike scene - they paid for the drinks for Rally riders

Living easy at the Forest Sonic

Tanks refilled, it's time to hit the road again

A fitting climax near the ride's end - a rainbow

© Big Mountain Riding

Misty Mountains of West Virginia

The organizers are offering a special for first-timers. Sign up with a first timer friend before July 31st for $100.00 each! If you’re thinking about tackling an epic mountain bike event for the first time, or for a classic event on some of the most gnarly singletrack on the east coast, please contact me via the comment feature on this post, or send me an e-mail at rides@bigmountainriding.com. I’ve raced this event seven times since 2001, and I think it’s a great starter event for those looking to get into epic, big mountain riding.

Going down on the wet roots of Douthat State Park

The 2009 Middle Mountain Momma XXC race served up an extra dose of pain and suffering. This Mountain Bike Virginia classic at Douthat State Park is always an epic, with approximately 40 miles of singletrack, soft-soiled doubletrack and forest service road. Adding to this already challenging mix was a deluge approaching the stuff of a Johnny Cash song. It had rained 1.5 inches overnight, and the race organizers said it had rained an additional 1-inch that morning before 9 a.m. On our way into Douthat SP, the streams were rushing along high between their banks, and large puddles reached far out into the road. As we registered, people were talking of a significant storm cell holding in the area.

The Double XC race did not start on time, as race organizers talked with the Park Rangers about whether or not to postpone the race, and consulted the radar displays. Riders huddled under a group picnic shelter and awaited the verdict. I know personally that I kind of hoped for a cancellation. It was cold standing around, damp-footed. However, I also wanted a green light, as I felt I might do better in the poor conditions, having raced several editions of the Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race in deplorable conditions including all-day cold rain.

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2009 Middle Mountain Momma XXC STATS: 40 Miles, +/-6,000 feet of elevation gain,

about 40 racers, winning time – +/-4.5 hours, lots of DNF’s, my time -  just under 6 hours, 22nd.

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Ranger verdict: The XXC was ON! We prepared for a 10 a.m. start, “warming up” by putting our bikes and gear together in the pouring rain and then riding up and down the gravel road and the beginning of the singletrack in the cold slop. Most riders were muddy by the time we lined up to start. It was anticlimactic after the waiting. “The race will be starting in about 8 minutes,” we were told. I lined up about 3/4 of the way back in the pack, as I wasn’t sure how I’d feel on that first big climb. Once we gathered around for a little talk about the turns we’d need to take, it was 10 a.m. “Ok then, ready, set, go!”

There was momentary delay as everyone registered that this was it. Then it was across the open field toward the woods. Riders were grinding into gear, only to come to a noisy halt as the pack bunched up at the narrow opening to the singletrack. Wet disc brakes moaned and howled and the techni-riders grumbled at the yahoos who couldn’t fall into line before the gap in the split-rail fence. Into the woods, the mud and wet rocks and roots soon unhorsed many of the eager beavers who had raced across the field but lacked technical finesse. The very first little steep section had big mountain greenhorns off their bikes and bringing traffic to a walking pace. I took the opportunity to pass a few of these fine folks as they remounted. Then it was up and away; All Aboard the pain train!

The initial climb was not a continuous slow grind as I’d remembered it from years ago. There was actually a big ring section about 1/2 mile or so into it that gave us about another 1/2 mile of exciting riding in the mud at high speed. It set expectations for what the big downhill on the other side of Middle Mountain had in store for us.

All aboard the "Pain Train": start of the several mile climb up Middle Mountain

After that high speed slip and slide run along the contour lines, the fun was over and the serious uphill began. The trail (Aptly named, at least at the start, Blue Suck Falls Trail – it sucked and we were blue with cold!) features many babyhead rocks and roots, as well as wood water bars to slow erosion. All of these features are slippery when wet, and the mud that filled the gaps between these obstacles worked its level best to partially blind riders and fill in the tread on our knobbies. We climbed through the rhododendrons, switch back after horrible switch back. Riders were spread out now, and while I had passed about 6-8 riders lower down, I now had a sizeable gap ahead of me and behind. I could see a rider in a red helmet behind me whenever I switched back, and I did catch one or two more riders near the top – singlespeeders reserving their stomp action for later on.

Finally, the trail topped out on the ridgeline of Middle Mountain. Led Zeppelin came to my mind over my ipod tunes, for we were in the Misty Mountains for sure. Tendrils of vapor clung to the dripping leaves and lurked in the narrow valleys. Me, I put my head down, shifted into a higher gear and worked my way along Middle Mountain.

The ridgeline is mostly a gradual downhill, with a few brief ups. The mud lay thick here, churned to a froth by the front riders. It flew up into my face and robbed my tires of their purchase. Now, I have referred in several posts to BriLo and his book. Well, I channeled his skills this day. One technique in particular saved my bacon about 7 times. Lopes shares a muddy conditions tip from Steve Peat: If you start to slide out in mud just get your front wheel on track where you want it and your rear wheel will come into line. This is true. On the way across Middle Mountain I had my first of many high speed two-wheel slides, and I let off the brakes and steered the front tire back onto the trail while the back end hung out for a second or so before whipping back into line. What a rush! Especially later in the day on some of the 6-inch steep side hill singletrack.  Oh yes, the 2009 Middle Mountain Momma XXC provided plenty of opportunities for technical riding skills and improvisation.

The guy in the red helmet caught me on the descent to Smith Creek Road. The big down hill was a cold one, and I kept busy pulling my arm warmers back up as they kept sliding down with all the jarring and tired elastic. I also caught a rider or two on this white knuckle descent with several switchblade switchbacks, and a drop into a creek at the bottom. Out of the creek, it was left on Smith Creek Road, and into a bigger gear for the short run on the gravel road. The turn off to climb Brushy Mountain was a steep singletrack up the embankment and I walked it in the mud. Up through the woods on a gradual climb to the first water supply. I stopped and put two bottles of water into my Camelback despite knowing I’d have to climb with the extra weight. I saw many had not refilled here, given the few empty bottles, but I agreed with my friend in the red helmet, who was there as well, that if I didn’t refill, I thought I’d regret it later as this loop promised lots of climbing.

From the water resupply, it was slopfest through a creek that used to be the trail. We rode in the several inch deep water for several hundred yards. Then we veered off on singletrack and encountered a “real” stream crossing. The water was up, cold and flowing strong. The banks were steep and slippery on both sides. Red Helmet and I plopped into the cold water – above the knee in some places, and forded. Then the fun began, with a steep singletrack climb up to the old CCC doubletrack. I caught Red Helmet and managed to granny gear it up some of the terrain. The old, unused doubletrack is what I dreaded, because it had been soft enough on a “dry” year. It was nasty.

Granny gear was the only one that could make headway in lots of places on the really soft and mucky doubletrack. I left Red Helmet in the background, as I hoped my kneecaps wouldn’t separate on this bog ride. It ended in time, and it was back onto singletrack for another hill climb.

I have to credit the race organizers, because the course was well marked with one exception, and I found it easy to stay on course, even out in desolate country.

Munching a Clif Bar, I hiked a bit and hoped the power would hit in time for a the next DH. It did. This one was rural, with close-in wiry Laurel and Rhododendron bushes that took a toll on my knuckles as I plowed down overgrown singletrack. Eventually it was out onto another gravel road, this transition with a trap for unwary riders – a rutted ditch roadside. Not feeling the love, I kicked it into a bigger gear, pushing the big or middle chain ring off and on on the fast-flowing Lime Kiln Road.

I fought the glasses or no glasses battle for the first foggy several hours, eventually stowing them in my jersey pocket, after a dangerous descent off of Middle Mountain. However, I busted them back out for Lime Kiln Road, as the speed had mud frequently flying eyeward. My left eye in particular seemed to be a real mud magnet and several times I had to ride one-eyed after taking a glob to the cornea. Fogged or not, I saw the turn-off back to soft doubletrack. I stopped and got more chow. I was going through the gels at a fast rate, it felt. Trying to stay off the cramps. Someone passed me as I ate trailside.

Up the hill was a pain fest. The ground was not as soft as it had been on the other side, but forward momentum was at a premium. Finally, the turn arrow. Downhill to the rushing creek – nice DH. Watered up at the supply point and then it was back out onto Smith Creek Road, turning uphill for an 800-foot plus climb over 4 miles. Passed a few singlespeeders on this climb including a guy with a rigid SS who had flatted out all his spares. He also didn’t have a pump, or I would have left him my tire patches. Boo Hoo, if you chose to ride a rigid bike on this terrain you’d better be prepared for the pinch flats galore.

The climb wasn’t over as we veered off the gravel onto a singletrack going straight up to the Middle Mountain Ridge. On the ridge a rider sat at the intersection. He asked me if I was at the back or in the middle. I said I didn’t know, I just wanted to finish. Of course my mind was playing tricks on me as I put it into the big ring on the gradually descending ridgeline and telling me the tough climbs were over.

Read the rest in Part II of the Middle Mountain Momma XXC Debrief.

Start climbing

2009 Middle Mountain Momma XXC Race Debrief Part I

At the bottom of Salt Stump Trail, a hoot of a descent in the wet conditions, I rode out into the Douthat SP campground and saw another couple of crates of Kroger bottled water. That was bad news – in that it indicated a lot of climbing remained ahead. Still clinging to the shreds of denial and hope, I stopped to pull out my soggy paper map and race description that they had handed out at the start. Blast, there it was: “Follow the regular XC markings to the finish.” Ha, ha! Like it was almost over. This entire second half of the normal cross-country course loomed ahead.

I started up the singletrack on the other side of the Park road. Here is where the up-until-then perfect course marking broke down, although the tracks of previous racers made it easy enough to stay on course. Up the hill, and up and up. I could hear people laughing and talking above, and I eventually caught up with some non-racers. What a day to be out on a group ride! The mountains were socked in with mist, and the dampness was everywhere. At the top – well not quite – the riders’ friends were waiting for them. I hiked past and remounted for the rest of the hill.

By this point it was just head down and keep grinding as I waited for the end. Several more climbs went by in a haze of pain and almost-cramps. Finally, the down hill. Another corker, with suprise switchbacks and at least one set of tracks skidding straight off the end of each one. At the bottom, I mean the real bottom, I could barely make it over the old swinging footbridge crossing the creek. The steep stairs at each end and the wet, flexing planks of the bridge almost took me down. I ended up jumping down the last few stairs, because I couldn’t make the steep stairs with my fatigued legs. I remounted and battled along another soft doubletrack, across another bridge and finally out onto the Douthat State Park road. I put it into the big chain ring and barged to the finish line.

The organizers had moved the finish line up, as they had retreated from the other side of the creek for fear the bridge would flood. It was even better, as I was on empty as I rolled through the finish, my Camelback empty, my ipod “Adrenaline” playlist finished, and my right leg cramping as I tried to put a foot down. 22nd place. I was hoping for middle of the pack, and that’s what I got during this epic all-weather event. © Big Mountain Riding

Wet roots always win in the end - Middle Mountain Momma 2003 copyright iPlayOutside.com

I am foregoing the Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure this year and will live local and revisit and old favorite, the Middle Mountain Momma at Virginia’s Douthat State Park. Will probably sign up for the Double XC course – 40+ miles of pain and desolation out in the mountains that don’t stop till half way through West Virginia. I hope the ground is not too soft, because that can make the miles really drag!

In 2004 or 2005 I did the XXC, and spent what felt like all day riding around on soft, grassy fire roads on the backside of who knows where. By the end of a day like that – with water only at the mid-point, one wants to reach the finish line mostly just to be able to stop riding.  In these type of races, quitting at most points on the course merely means walking back to the finish line instead of riding (or riding an additional 10 road miles). Sounds like fun, right?

I will miss the Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure, but I am setting my sights on a top 5 placing in the West Virginia Wild 100 in August.

©Big Mountain Riding