Are some days too hot for riding?

Words, photo and video: Randy King

Temperatures in the eastern U.S. shot past 100° F (38° C) last week and have been cooking in the nineties for a month. Mountain bikers are forced to cope with this heat wave. Over the weekend, the Big Mountain Riding crew hit the trails in Danville, VA, for 2.5-hours of riding on one of the hottest days yet this summer. Between sweating gallons, drinking more than 120 ounces (3.5 L) of water each, and hating every climb, we hammered out a few hot weather riding tips … and survived the ride!

The bottom line: Be cool … or as cool as possible. The warmer the weather, the more challenging it becomes to adequately cool your body. Cooling is vitally important, because heat kills. “People don’t realize the severity of heat on health,” said George Luber, an expert on heat at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, in the Washington Post. “It’s the number one weather-related killer in the United States.”

1. Drink enough water / fluids. Obvious, right? Um, more on that later. Start upping your water intake several days ahead if you have a hot ride planned. On ride day start drinking water early so that you’re fully-hydrated when you clip in. Water alone is OK for rides of less than 45 minutes. On longer rides in hot weather, add sport drinks to your fluid intake. Jenny Hadfield, author of Marathoning for Mortals, recommends about 8 ounces (.25 L) of sport drink every 15-20 minutes during prolonged hot weather exercise.

Believe it or not, how much water you should drink during prolonged exercise is an ongoing debate. While the word used to be to drink a certain amount per hour, whether you were thirsty or not, your own body seems to be the best indicator of how much you should drink. Your body will tell you if you’re drinking enough, either through thirst or by slowing down.

“[Thirst] is the only system used by all other creatures on this earth. Why should it not also be ideal for humans?” says Timothy D. Noakes, M.D., a professor of exercise and sports science at the University of Cape Town, and author of The Lore of Running.  Recently Dr. Noakes and his colleagues researched cycling performance during an 80 kilometer time trial, finding that drinking less than thirst called for negatively affected performance slightly and drinking more than thirst dictated had no effect.

Your body also lets you know it needs fluid by loss of power or speed. Riding hard, you will sweat 1 to 2 quarts an hour. If you lose more fluid by sweat or urine than you take in, you will experience dehydration.

“Body weight losses in the 3 to 4 percent range impair the body’s ability to efficiently utilize oxygen. When dehydration causes more than 4 to 5 percent weight loss, your power will deteriorate tremendously,” says Active.com expert Edmund R. Burke, Ph.D.

Your bathroom scale can clue you in. “If you gain any weight [exercising], you’re taking in too many fluids, but if you lose more than two percent of your body weight on a single outing, you probably need to drink more,” says Sally Wadyka in Runners World.

A random video that has nothing to do with this article, except it was very hot on that ride!

2. Get acclimated: It takes about 14 days for your body to adapt to summer heat and cool itself more efficiently. In the meantime, slow your pace and intensity and get your ride in rather than pushing it and risking injury. Listen up, weekend warriors: Riding hard one day a week is a bad idea in the summer, unless you are used to the heat. If you have a race or an important ride coming up, plan ahead and put in the training time.

3. Timing is everything … work with the heat. Good news for the early birds: 4-7 am is coolest time of day. The heat increases later and air quality diminishes. Early morning may be more humid, but you should try to be off the trail and indoors by the time the afternoon rays really heat up. Consider switching your group rides to the hours right after dawn. Additionally, stay cooler by riding in the woods and on trails that are frequently breezy. The temperature difference between shaded areas and sunny areas can swing greatly – think double digits – and wind further cools down b0dy temps. Finally, build cool down breaks into your ride, where you slow your pace for a few minutes.

4. Ride smart: Know the signs of heat-related health problems. The Red Cross shares the following

- Heat cramps: muscular pains and spasms. They are an early warning signal. Take heed.

- Heat exhaustion: a form of mild shock. Signals include cool, moist, pale flushed or red skin; heavy sweating; headache; nausea or vomiting; dizziness; and exhaustion. Cool person off, get them to a cooler place.

- Heat stroke: the temperature control system, which sweats to cool the body, stops working. Signals include hot, red and dry skin; changes in consciousness; rapid, weak pulse; and rapid, shallow breathing. Call 911. Quickly cool person off any way you can.

5. Get a little help from your friends. Ride with a buddy – watch each other for heat problems and hold each other accountable for calling time for cooling down. Let someone know how to contact you / where to find you and your expected return time. This is always a good idea, and even more so in extreme temperatures.

Resources:

Red Cross Heat Safety Tips

Active.com’s cycling heat tips

© 2010 Big Mountain Riding

When you've mastered the basics, you can go for style points

Most of us learned how to ride a bike when we were in elementary school or before. And as avid mountain bikers, most of us have kept riding our bikes much longer than our friends who learned how to ride at the same time we did. However, how much actual training or revisiting of basic bike-handling skills have we done since then, to learn how to get the most out of these high-tech machines we love so much?

This need for updating our basic skills and increasing the efficiency of our riding is  addressed in Mastering Cycling (Human Kinetics, 2010), by author John Howard, three-time Olympian and 18-time national masters cycling champion. Howard says cyclists need to avoid the “Toy Syndrome.” It ain’t a toy, so don’t approach it like one.

Howard encourages riders to polish up their skills in several key, basic skills areas:

Climbing in the saddle

Fast, efficient climbing demands that riders know when and what to do at the key moment to keep going forward and up. “Delaying the decision too long will result in the loss of both speed and momentum,” Howard says. What gear you choose and how you shift depends on how much you have left in the tank – your available power, fitness level, and pitch of the climb. The length of the climb also influences how the rider approaches it.  “If you are starting to climb a long, gradual hill, use a gear that is comfortable and lets you maintain an rpm of about 90,” Howard explains. “When your cadence begins to slow down, downshift to an easier gear. If you are going to stand on the pedals, you may want to shift up to a higher gear so that you don’t waste energy spinning.”

Climbing out of the saddle
Off-the-saddle climbing demands a balance between keeping a reasonable hear-rate (not burning out) and getting that burst of forward umph. “Gravity will win the battle if you surge on the pedals, pull and push your upper body forward or backward, or worse, pull your upper body up and down, disengaging the important core muscles,” Howard says. “The primary force in moving the bicycle forward is generated at the 3 o’clock and 9 o’clock positions of the cranks.” Howard says less-experienced riders often mistime their crank surges, so they lose lots of power at the top and bottom of their pedal stroke, since these areas are inefficient in out-of-the saddle pedaling.

Cornering
True cornering skills require fluid, snap judgments on all the aspects of each turn, including camber, radius of the turn, trail conditions and any thing that affects speed. Riders must lean the bike through turns to speed through them.  “A cyclist must estimate how much lean is needed to counteract the physical forces that want to project the cyclist and the bicycle in a straight line,” Howard says. “The amount of lean depends on the speed traveled into the turn, the tightness of the turn, and the degree and direction of the road bank.”

Braking

Howard discusses the two types of braking: feathering and “hot stops.” Feathering is used most of the time, to lightly control speed and ride smoothly through normal terrain changes. “Hot stops” are required when the rider must stop and stop immediately.  “The action is accompanied by an approximate bias of two-thirds on the front brake and one-third on the rear brake,” Howard explains. “Cyclists will have very little time to slip back in the saddle and apply the front brakes. When it is done properly, the bike can stop in half the distance that it would normally take.”

Shifting

“Whether you are a competitive or a recreational cyclist, your cadence needs to be as comfortable and smooth as possible, never jerky,” Howard says. He advises single gear shifts and warns against cross-angled chain lines.  “Cyclists should listen to their bikes and avoid crossing the chain over radical angles, such as the big chain ring and the larger cog in the rear. This will save wear and tear on the drive train and the knees,” Howard adds.

For more information, see Mastering Cycling.

Riding All-Mountain on Niner’s XC Race Bike, the Air 9

The Atomic Blue color stands out, as does the Air 9's responsive frame

Review & Photos by: Randy King

Video by: Randy Lewis

Climbing toward the sharp, steep switchback, I grinned in anticipation. With only 20-minutes of saddle time on the Niner Air 9, I already knew that I had a shot at making this challenge – one of those hiking trail switchbacks that cut back on themselves like barely-open scissors. This bike was made for just this type of momentum- and traction-defying situation.

I rode straight at the dirt bank that signaled the end of my current wheel path, running wide at the outside edge of the trail. At the last second, I let off the power and the bike slowed almost to a stop. Now! I turned the bars just as the front wheel contacted the steep benched bank, cranking once to power the front wheel in a nearly 90° slice across the bank. Pivoting with the front wheel, I was almost pointed back down the trail before I could straighten out enough to apply real power. Now the bike threatened to go off the inside corner of the switchback. I spun away at the pedals, rolling the front tire right along the edge of the trail and back on track as I climbed through the eroded heart of the switchback. The Niner Air 9 straightened out and I climbed onward.

The Niner Air 9 rewards riders who have the vision and the ability to leverage its considerable powers. Its Easton GX2 Scandium/Aluminum frame is responsive and lightweight. Although the Air 9 I rode had been kitted out with a mediocre parts spec, its race breeding shone through.

Out for a Niner field day, Randy Lewis (on his Niner E.M.D. 9) and I covered much of the varied terrain of Roanoke, VA’s huge Carvin’s Cove trail system. Temps surged past 90 and then cooled later as a big T-storm rumbled threateningly and stacked up against the nearby Blue Ridge. We ended the day racing the impending rain back to the parking lot.

Here the Niner Air 9 showed off the racing genes of its stiff frame and aggressive, forward-leaning cockpit set-up. Although at low speeds I could really feel the drag of the heavy wheel set, once I powered up the Air 9, I found myself pushing the big chain ring uphill, going faster and faster. What a joy to climb on this bike!

Read the rest of the review in Part 2 …

©2010 Big Mountain Riding

This review is sponsored by Just the Right Gear
bike shop, Salem, VA.

Continued from Part 1 …

However, I got to see the Niner Air 9 handle a lot of terrain between that tech-rider’s dream of a switchback and the final race against the rain. Once we attained the ridge via Buck, we rode up the double track and then down. Here I experienced firsthand the effect of inertia on those big wheels. We had to stop mid-thrill ride though, to peel off the fire road for the sketchy descent on the narrow, hoof-pocked singletrack of Hemlock Tunnel.

Descending did not seem deadly on the Niner Air 9 thanks largely to the wide Ritchey bar and the capable WTB Moto Raptor tires. However, the bike is a stiff-riding hardtail with an 80MM travel RockShox Reba SL fork, and unless you are Jedi enough to descend sans brakes, you will probably agree that the Air 9’s forte is climbing. I don’t know if it would have handled descents better with hydraulic brakes or not, but I felt that the ride grew very harsh when I tried to scrub speed on the rough downhill runs of Hemlock Tunnel and Comet. Yet when I let off the Avid BB7 stoppies, the Air 9 flowed over the chatter bumps and rock bars like art in motion. It made me wish I had the Force at my ready disposal.

Along the bottom we tackled the log piles of Enchanted Forest, and the Niner Air 9 proved a well-balanced machine, predictable at low speeds and over obstacles. On Little Bell and Schoolhouse, I loved the way the bike carved turns. The WTB Moto Raptor tires were reliable and gripped the trail more fiercely than an overeager car salesman’s handshake. The same applied to climbing, I don’t think I ever broke traction on the rear wheel, even standing up with my head way in front of the bars on steep climbs. If I could put power to the pedals, the Moto Raptors kept climbing. Great big mountain riding tires!

On the return leg via Arrowhead and Songbird, the Air 9 rocked and rolled over the small jumps and log rides, without the skittishness of some high-strung racing bikes. It rode like a play bike on these fun trails.

The atmosphere altered as we started up Brushy Mountain. The wind pushed and pulled meaningfully, making the leaves show their light underbellies in a clear warning to us. We turned onto Four Gorges trail and put the hammer down on our two Niners. Yeah, the storm was coming fast … but I was riding an Atomic Blue Niner Air 9 and it was just the right bike for what needed doing. I pushed into the big chain ring and powered up those big wheels.

Parting thoughts:
The Air 9 frame retails for $799. Give it the parts build it deserves. The bike I rode weighed a portly 28-lbs. The same shop had a Medium frame Air 9 built to 24-lbs. Mine did not feel heavy other than in the wheels, so I shudder to think how fast this racer would feel with a much lighter wheelset. Spend wisely, young Skywalker!

Most of my complaints about the Niner Air 9 that I rode stem from either the fact that is a hardtail – something that cannot be changed – or its mediocre parts spec – something easily changed; I had no complaints with the essence of the bike (a race-oriented hardtail). In fact, I thought it performed well in the more all-mountain conditions of our ride. However, efficient suspension designs have led to +5” travel bikes that climb well and spare spines. For those who have ridden double-squish for a long time it hurts to go back to a hardtail bike. With today’s technology, the question comes down to what type of riding makes you smile the most.  If you are comfortable on descents, but light up when mastering a technical or prolonged climb and your spine can put up with long miles on a hardtail (‘cause you ride like water), the Niner Air 9 may be the bike to help you speed to the finish of your next big mountain riding event.

Now to clarify a misunderstanding: 29” wheels do not equal an inch of suspension. A 29” hardtail rides like a hardtail bike. The wheels do not suck up bumps, or smooth over the vagaries of the trail. However, big wheels do roll over obstacles and square-edged bumps better than an inch or so of suspension on a 26” wheeled bike.

©2010 Big Mountain Riding

This review is sponsored by Just the Right Gear
bike shop, Salem, VA.

Share the road? Yeah, right!

People look at me like I’m crazy when I say mountain biking is safer than road biking. That’s not just a throw-away observation. Yes, the ground hurts. Yes, rocks are hard and can be sharp. True, mountain sides are steep and singletrack can be narrow. However, trees are not moving all around you at 30-65 mph, driven by people who may or may not be paying attention. You are at the top of the food chain in the woods. Not so on the road, explains Bruce Ebert in a recent Bicycle Times article, Incivility: How Lawyers and Legislators De-Valued Your Life. Be safe out there, especially if your big mountain ride requires you to ride on some roads – your life may not be as valuable as you thought.

©2010 Big Mountain Riding

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

©2010 Big Mountain Riding

Based on the nominations, Crank has selected the top 5 blogs to be in for the voting in each category.  All contenders were selected by cycling blog fans and peers (that’s you!).  Thanks so much for your nominations. We made it to the top 5!  Please vote for Big Mountain Riding as the top mountain biking blog in the Crank Honors.

Voting will take place from now until June 6th …. Cast your vote at:www.cranklisted.com.

©2010 Big Mountain Riding

The Salsa Mamasita is a capable back country explorer and XC racer

Review by:

Scott Schekman

Photos by: Scott Schekman and Randy King

Now that I have been riding my Salsa Mamasita for more than a year, it is time for a long term review. My Mamasita is built up pretty much as a race/play 29er hard tail with a ROCK SHOX REBA Race 29″ fork, RACE FACE Deus crankset, Stan’s 355 rims laced to a DT Swiss 240 front & Stans ZTR rear hub, Easton Monkeylite XC bar, SRAM X-9 triggers and rear derailleur and Hope Mini disc brakes. This build is average in weight at 24.5 lbs, but that works for me and I didn’t have to cash in my IRA to build it. New Mamasita frames are available online for about $750; complete bikes for less than $2,000.

This size small frame is made of Scandium/aluminum alloy with carbon seat stays. I have read of various advantages of Scandium alloys, but not being a metalurgist, I don’t actually know what is fact or not.  The Mamasita’s geometry is fairly standard for a 29er hardtail frame [See chart].

The Salsa Mamasita features clean lines and rider-friendly geometry

So far I have raced the Mamasita in two mountain-X races and the epic Shenandoah 100. All my other rides have been local trail rides at Candlers/Liberty mountain, Danville, VA’s Anglers Ridge, Bedford, VA’s Falling Creek Park or Roanoke, VA’s Carvins Cove. The Mamasita rock ‘n’ rolled through all of this terrain variety that included log hopping, rock gardens, swoopy smooth singletrack and typical east coast-roots, rocks, tree limbs, technical climbs and fast descents.

Riding this bike is like riding a small self-powered rocket. All the pedaling energy seems to transform immediately into forward motion. This bike will climb like a scared cat! I seem to favor technical difficult climbs, especially the kind most people only like to ride down. [Editor's note: He's not kidding!] The “Mama” excels at this.  I do run the Reba at 100mm travel which means I have to keep some weight forward on steeps to keep the front end down, but like on any bike, the rider has to learn how to distribute his weight to the bike’s advantage.

Descending is a flat out rush; this bike will go faster than my brain will let it. I have never yet missed full suspension on the downhills. It might be the combination of wagon wheels and carbon stays or just the geometry, but this is the fastest XC bike I have ridden yet. The only time I notice any limitations is when I am trying to keep a smooth cadence on choppy (roots and small rocks) flat ground. This is probably a disadvantage of any 29er hard tail. It tends to kick me off the saddle some, which disrupts my pedaling so I installed a USE suspension seat post which helps – but is still no substitute for rear suspension.

The carbon seatstays and big wheels soften up the ride a bit on this rocket-fast hard tail

All in all, the Salsa Mamasita is a blast to ride or race. It is a screaming fast descender, a mountain goat climber, nimble and quick without any twitchiness in steering control. The Mamasita rider feels confident and in control climbing up or blazing down the mountain. The Salsa Mamasita is definitely worth a closer look for XC and epic racers and big mountain riders – as long as you’re not a downhill-only rider, or into frequent jumping or drops bigger than two feet.

©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