I am pretty much obsessed.

You would think that after 5 summers in the park I would start to get bored but I don't. Every morning I wake up, the first thing that crosses my mind is the park. I want it. I need it. I don't feel well when I don't get at least a few laps. There is a good chance I like the park more then you. Relationships usually end in May because the love of my life comes back into my life.

My favourite trail combo is Freight Train to No Joke to Freight Train to No Joke to Freight Train to Angry Pirate to Crabapple Hits to World Cup Single Track to Ho Chi Min to Heart of Darkness.

I have been known to boss people around in the park. There are certain places I don't stop: for instance, the first corner into world cup single track. I will not stop at the a-line/dirt merchant/angry pirate/crab apple junction. The first corner into World Cup is one of my top 3 corners on the mountain and it must be taken with speed. You can't stop at the Lower Whistler and Detroit Rock junction either; you will lose your flow. It's all about connecting the trails.

Trains and Downhill 4X make any day more exciting. My favourite trains are chainless B-Line, Freight Train and Angry Pirate to Crabapple to World Cup or A-Line. Sometimes you need to bust out some cheeky moves on your friends and pull and inside pass here and there. One of my favourite Downhill 4X spots is the steep loose chicane at the bottom of Detroit Rock; everyone can take a different line but elbows need to be up when you come into the bottom corner, its quite exciting.

I love the rain. Its hard to be obsessed with the park if you don't love the rain because this is the northwest. You will find me in the park on any rainy day. The trails are so good when they are wet. I like it sketchy and sloppy.

I recently went away for a race, crashed and separated my shoulder. The first thing that crossed my mind when I heard the pop was the park. I didn't care that it hurt, all I could think about was the park. Living in Whistler while you are injured is like an alcoholic working in a bar; its really bad. I need to get my fix somehow so in the meantime I am scoping out all my new ninja lines on two feet! Get ready to be blown away. Muahahhh

The thought of the park makes me all warm inside. I love it.

Submitted by:
Katie

Date:
June 29

As a resident of Vancouver, B.C., I have had countless opportunities to explore and experience what our great province has to offer. The North Shore, the birth place of true mountain biking, is my favorite place on Earth. The skinnies, the ladders, the mud and the drops, all defining characteristics of the Shore, are what my life is built around. When the chance arises, I will never hesitate to venture up to Whistler, for some first class dirt jumping, or A-line ripping. The people with the shovels and the hammers have created a masterpiece, sculpting the terrain into a mountain bike paradise.

Such an incredible facility demands everything that a rider has. Full attention is always required. That is something I have learned the hard way. The dirt jumps in the Whistler village can be described as challenging, and do require some careful maneuvering. Feeling confident on my new dirt jumper, I dropped in to the second largest gap jumps. The first three were perfect, but I misjudged the roller after. I took off on the fourth at half the required speed. The only thing I remember before losing 30 minutes of memory is a sound similar to a 2x4 smacking the ground: my face smashing into the top of the landing. My bike landed in the middle of the gap, and I came to a very quick stop using my head. I remember asking some poor innocent tourist if my teeth were still attached. The answer was no. I had broken my nose, knocked out my two front teeth, and received a concussion. I didn’t black out, but I only remember coming to my senses half an hour later, beside my car. We drove back home, holding my teeth in place with a mouth guard.

The next stop was the dental surgeon. The two root canals were painful, and cost about the same as a new dh bike. That was probably the worst part of this whole situation. The good news was that the teeth were put back in, and are still intact on year later.

That afternoon my buddy and I took the lift up to our favorite trails on Whistler. We had planned this ride a few days before, and I wasn’t going to let my injured face get in the way. I loaded up on Tylenol 3’s and hit the trail for many incredible runs. My whole face was frozen, so my smile could not form as I flew down the trail. It was probably the best ride of the year. We finished the ride, and I ordered pizza, only to realize that I couldn’t bite into it. I knew it was going to be a painful month.

I learned a lot on that day at the Whistler jumps, a lot about my personal limits and abilities, and a lot about pushing them. I realize when to confront new challenges, and when to lay back and stick with the old. It occurred to me that biking is my life, and that obsession could easily be taken away from me in a moment of stupidity. I don’t know what I would do if my passion for biking was taken away from me. Fortunately, a facial “reconstruction” would not be enough to do this. For now, all I can do is ride for fun and for the love of the sport, with a little bit more knowledge and experience to help me overcome what the future will toss my way.

Submitted by:
Julian

Date:
June 30

Hello Whistler Obsession competition. I have too many stories, but I choose to only share one. Skiing has been one of the loves of my so far short life (15 years). I went to whistler to ski on the glacier, not with a summer ski camp, but with my father. I was strolling through the beautiful whistler village when something miraculous catches my eye. What I was seeing was something of a different breed. It towered above all the other bikes. It was big, shiny, and absolutely amazing. For a split second, the sun glistened off the shiny Marzocchi stanchions, and I got a certain feeling inside me. I knew that I had just witnessed something amazing.

Push came to shove, and after many rentals throughout the course of my stay in Whistler, I convinced my parents buy me a rental Norco. My birthday is right around then, so it was somewhat a gift. I rode my Norco everyday, down A-line, Dirt Merchant, and all the other lower trails. I had found a new sense of happiness in my life. The feelings of the smooth berms, and the adrenalin pumping through my body when I lined up the biggest drop of the day, or the sweat running down my face as a give my all to balance on the skinny woodwork. But, all good things come to an end. My last day of this life changing trip would be one I wouldn’t forget. The day was surprisingly normal in the morning. I did my typical warm up run, and felt great. Due to my feeling good on the pedals, I made the decision to push my ability. On my third run, I pedaled as hard as I could into the GLC drops. I know that people usually exaggerate how bad their falls really are, but I assure you that I went fairly large, A bit too large for me to keep control. I went from about 25-0 in close to 5 seconds. While I falls falling, my collarbone found its’ way into many pieces, some of which lodged themselves deep into my shoulder. Long story short, there is a plate and 10 screws in my right shoulder. I also should let you know I was 12 when this occurred.

My injury did anything but discourage me from riding. All summer I sat on the couch watching all the videos I could, reading up on the latest parts, and washing my bike. Finally, after much anticipation, I got back in the saddle. Every since that day in Whistler village, I have been addicted to mountain biking in all way shape or form. And how does me seeing a random bike have to do with the whistler bike park and my obsession with it? If the resort had not pursued the growing sport (thank god they did), the odds are better I wouldn’t have seen that bicycle, I wouldn’t have had my fondest memories learning to ride on the most legendary trails in the world, and I wouldn’t have met some of my best friends. So I thank you Whistler. I thank every employee who has every sat at the top of Garbanzo on those cold foggy days, I thank the ski patrol for carrying my crippled body to the hospital, and I thank everyone who has every bought a ticket and supported the development of our great sport. Currently I am cooking 6 days a week from 3-11 to build my dream bike. I hope that as soon as my bike is in action, I can begin to plan a trip to the bike park.

Happy riding and thanks for reading,

Submitted by:
Chris

Date:
June 25

I had my first taste of the Whistler Bike Park last August when i convinced my non-biking wife to spend our vacation at Whistler (Bike Park, that is). I guess you can say since then I have been obssessed with the Whistler Bike Park. I'll skip through dvds to only watch the whistler bike park segments and try to envision myself on those trails again. I sold my motorcycle and car to purchase a real downhill rig. Now I take public transit to and from work...it's pretty sad, considering how far from work I live. I need flow and freedom. Now I'm stuck to schedules and multi transfer bus routes. Looking forward to the weekend when i can sit on my bike and pretend I'm at Whistler Bike Park. Oh yeah...i don't have a car so now I can't even go to Blue to downhill. I'll just be content with sitting in my garage washing my V10 and dialing in my suspension for that day when I can go back to Whistler to ride!

I just found out my boss is now going to whistler to ride with Richie Schley...sniff sniff. I've become really good at multitasking at work because of my obsession. Any given moment at work will consist of: "real work", surfing NSMB for the pro report, googling images of Whistler Bike Park, watching Whistler Bike Park videos in a tiny window in the bottom right corner of my computer so I can close it in an instance in case anybody walks by ;)

I keep a little piece of last year's trail map in my pocket at all times. It gives me that warm and fuzzy feeling everytime I notice it. Reminds me of the good times at Whistler I had on Freight Train to Aline. Here's a pic that I always look at. It's the start of Aline.

What was the prize for being most obssessed again? Oh well back to "work"

Submitted by:
Jason

Date:
June 22

That’s what I thought when I first saw the ad for the contest. “It’s MINE!” I just got this month’s subscription of Decline (first one for me), went on the website and here I am. Just to make it clear from the start, there’s gonna be stories. Because writing reflects the best who I am, and my obsession with Whistler. And I’m sorry, but that can’t just fit into one email. So I’m going to send one everyday. Until I win this thing or till it runs out. EVERY DAY. Because that’s what I do ever since I discovered Whistler last year. Every day I’m online, watching Whistler videos, looking for photos, reading every story I can find. I’ve even started looking for a place to live there and am in the midst of changing careers, with the next step being moving to BC. It will seem frightful at times, but that’s it. My true, naked passion for Whistler. It has become part of my daily routine, and that’s why this is MY contest. So, here it goes: Cycling, my passion; Whistler my obsession…

How did I get to Whistler the first time? This and other great adventures in tomorrow’s story.

Submitted by:
Chris

Date:
June 21

"You will NOT take me down!"

So I got sick. I tried to crawl and get to the work computer. It was within reach. I could almost feel the keyboards. Little Chris helpers, that’ll get me to Whistler. And then I passed out again. All hail the powerful T3! But, then again, I dreamt of Whistler. And of her. Oh, her. That’s for another day, another story.

But I’m back. I said one story every day. If anyone’s reading any of this, they will hate me someday. Or love me. Because that’s usually the case.

‘How did I get to Whistler’, was today’s theme. Why, would be more appropriate. It’s simple. I love bikes. I love my bikes and I want to get better and better at riding them. And one day I see this ad about a series of mountain bike camps. I look closer, what a bummer! It’s for girls. Then, curious as ever I check it out online. Honestly, there’s nothing hotter than a girl on a bike. Period. Was browsing their site, when bam! Heart rate goes up. Their big Season Finale is co-ed! Quick call to the organizer… “Yes, there are still spots for Whistler. Skill level? Hmmm. If you can do 8 foot drops comfortably then your skill might be too high.” Are you kidding me? Best I can do is 2-3 feet, and I have no idea what I’m doing. “The ratio of guys to girls? Usually 50%-50%”. Are you kidding me? I’m in. I looked at the coach list and, although I wanted to go for the freeride part, my XC geek heart sang when I saw the names of Alison Sydor and Dre Hestler. Oh, there was another guy. Wade something.

That was the first step. At this point it was not an obsession. Because I haven’t seen the place yet. And it was only July. And I started reading, and looking for pictures, and reading and researching and… oh, endlessly. Till I thought I knew everything there was to know about Whistler. Then I started again. And finally, after an amazing riding season – we don’t call it XC, we call it All Mountain – time had come. It was the beginning of September. I had new tires on the Reign, brand new armour in my closet, and was trying on a full face. I was heading to Whistler.

Oh, but I didn’t get there alone. Which was a blessing, because I ended up with an amazing friend and one of the best weekends of my life… about this, and my first impressions of Whistler, tomorrow.

See you in Whistler!

Submitted by:
Chris

Date:
June 25

One might call me “obsessed” with the Bike Park there at Whistler Blackcomb. But for you to truly understand my lunacy with the park, a little background story is in order.

Rewind 3 years ago…

It was a balmy summer back in Ontario and I got a phone call from a buddy that wanted to buy a bike so that he could ride the Whistler Bike Park. He is a sick snowboarder so he figured that he could fill his time in the off season with Biking while living in Creekside.

I pointed him in the right direction and told him that I would plan a trip out there and ride with the kid. Now I had heard of the Bike Park before, watched the web cam religiously to see what was going on… I still do in fact!... and prepare for what would be my first ever “paid” vacation. I worked at an Architecture Firm back in Ontario and had never gone anywhere since graduating University.

So I packed my bike in a box, loaded all my gear into my 80 liter pack and got on the plane on September 2nd, 2005… after a 3 hour delay… and arrived at 9pm in Vancouver. I drove to Whistler in my rental Chrysler PT Cruiser, completely oblivious to the mountains as it was already dark here and got to Whistler at 11:30 pm. We got some beer as I unpacked and reassembled my bike to shred the next day.

I had ridden Blue Mountain and was super stoked to finally lay tread to dirt here in Whistler. I woke up at 6am… rolled into my buddies Coffee Shop and looked in awe at the mountains. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Having driven the Sea 2 Sky at night, one misses the views… but with the sun shining and not a cloud in the sky… both Whistler and Blackcomb were in full glory.

Weak in the knees I waited for my bud to arrive and we boarded the Fitz Chair to Olympic Station. Dirt Merchant was the first trail up on the itinerary.

Fast Forward…

Dirt Merchant is my warm-up run. I start everyday that I go up with a mind soothing rip down my personal favorite trail. I moved here 2 years ago after getting on the plane to fly back to Ontario, I made a promise to myself. That I would pack up my life and live if not in, but pretty dam close to what I consider one of the best places to go in the world. Last year I made it to the Bike Park pretty much every weekend, even the weekend that I moved to the Shore… we dumped our stuff in the new place and headed up for what has become one of the best weekends of my life. Unfortunately last year the allure to go big got the better of me, a mere 2 weeks before the Bike Park closed. I broke my collar bone attempting to Gap the ¼ Pipe. As you can imagine, it didn’t turn out so well and I was off the bike for 4 weeks… missing what I consider the “Coldest, Darkest, day of the year”… The last day of the Bike Park. On a better note, last year I did get to ride No Joke on its final day. RIP NO JOKE!

After a great winter of throwing personal record smashing trips to Whistler in the winter, I announced that I would hold off on attending the Bike Park until Garbonzo had opened. That there was a plethora of trails elsewhere that could entertain me just as much as Whistler.

Yeah… that held for 3 weeks.

I hoped into Andrew’s truck, on what looked to be a sketchy weather day on Sunday morning… and relinquished to the age old tradition of a morning lap down my favorite trail... Dirt Merchant. Kudos to the Guys that keep the park the way it is, 2 solid years of riding the park came crashing back… and I was left with a smile… a smile so firmly entrenched on my face, all the dirt and mud, and even time… as it has been 3 days … could not wipe from my face! That if only for that moment… all was right with the world!

When ever I question was this move from Ontario right for me, all I have to do is stand at the top of Dirt Merchant, look down at the wooden ladder entrance… and a smile flickers… I know without a doubt… that I am were I belong. In conclusion, I don’t see this Obsession as a bad one. There are a million other things in the world to be obsessed about. What is the problem if it includes a few trails?

Now for the reason that I am writing this, I do not want to the prizes. Going to Whistler alone is enough of a gift that I need nothing more. I would however like the good folks here that run this contest, that if you feel the compulsion to pick my story, that you instead donate the prize to the Triple Crown Event that the NSMBA is putting on to raise funds for a rider here on the Shore that had a life altering accident. The prizes will be auctioned off and all proceeds will go to the fund to get this rider mobile.

If you want to read up on the Event please visit…
http://www.nsmb.com/shore_news/triplecrown_06_07.php

Thank you for the Park… and for making Whistler what it is… my own personal slice of Heaven.

Submitted by:
Dan

Date:
June 20

At what point does riding transcend fat tires touching dirt and become a spiritual experience flavored with mystic memories that linger longer than the adrenaline rush of a new line? This experience begins well before the trailhead and continues long after the bike is back in the garage.

For me, my favorite mystic memory begins at an airport in Greenville, South Carolina and stretches through a landing in Seattle Washington and short drive up to Whistler British Columbia.

Mountains on the east coast of the United States are beautiful, but the Canadian Rockies are by comparison the difference between an Atari 2600 and an Xbox 360. As I pulled my car into the parking garage of the Marketplace Lodge my hands slipped on the steering wheel with anticipatory sweat.

What a sight at the Fitzsimmon’s lift. My mouth gaped and my eyes watered with unshed tears of joy and exhilaration. Over the next few days my tires would touch trails of such intensity that I thought I wouldn’t make it home. In all of those trails, none was as distinctly marvelous as Dirt Merchant.

Dirt Merchant was so wondrous that I have since returning to South Carolina ridden that trail while sitting at my desk at work, worshipping in church, or talking with my wife. My mind’s eye remembers the berms, the step downs and ups, and the drops in one marvelous cornucopia of mountain bike mayhem. I have only been to the Mecca of freeride mountain biking once, but I can’t let go; it is a part of me.

Memory is not reality, but I memory-ride Dirt Merchant everyday. An obsession? You bet!

Submitted by:
Ryan

Date:
June 20

I raced downhill back in the 90's. It was cool to be there for the origins of the sport: to see the bikes get working suspension, brakes, drivetrains, and wheels; and to see the race courses get more difficult to match the performance of the bikes and riders. There were few lift-accessed areas to ride. I used to regularly drive 8+ hours in a day to drive from Philadelphia to upstate New York to hit Plattekill!

Of course, as Whistler Bike Park opened and evolved, it was always in the back of my mind to someday go ride. I had been to Whistler in the winter and had an idea of how great the bike park would be. I knew riders who went, and heard their stories about the amazing riding. I had to get there!

The planning started three years ago. My girlfriend and I found jobs in the Seattle area. We were finally moving west to the mountains, and most importantly, were only hours from Whistler! We arrived last June. Once we secured permanent housing, our next mission was get to Whistler!

Our first trip was in August. My girlfriend had never ridden a downhill bike before, and she loved it. She especially loved B-Line and A-Line. Once she was tired, I got to go hit all the trails I had heard about for so many years: Schleyer and Clown Shoes were so sweet!

In the year we've lived in Washington, we have spent 12 days snowboarding in the winter, and 6 days at the bike park already. I'm so obsessed I've gone to Whistler for the day twice this season.

Submitted by:
Rich

Date:
June 20

Hi there,

My name is Sean and this is my Obsession Story. Let me begin with this, I am a university student living in Ottawa, Ontario. For years now I have dreamed of moving out west to ride the mountains. Growing up the answer to the question 'What do you want to do when you get older?' from over- zealous teachers and councilors has always been 'Live in the mountains.' There's a simple reason for that. Eastern Canada is flat. Sure we have the odd pimple that emerges out of an otherwise lacklustre landscape, but there is no comparison to the riding that you can do in the Great Canadian Rocky Mountains.

After several years of riding my local hills, none of which have verticals much higher than an NBA regulation hoop, I found myself yearning for the Whistler Mountain Bike Park more than ever. I was watching videos just so I could imagine myself beginning a trail on Dirt Merchant, following through to Lower A-line only to end off with hitting the GLC drops.

I decided it was time to make this a reality. A plan had begun to emerge. I needed a bigger bike, a plane ticket, and somewhere to stay in Whistler. My summer revolved around these three principles. Moving through them, I got a job at a local bike store. My pay cheques from the first few months of work went into ordering myself a freeride beast I knew would chew up and spit out anything Whistler could throw at it. The next step was saving enough dough to make the trip. That took some time also, but eventually I was able to find enough pennies to haul me and a bike box out to vancouver. Then a beautiful stroke of luck came my way. I had a good friend who had moved out to Whistler earlier that year, so I had found my couch to sleep on. It took me a few months of work to manage this, but I eventually fixed up a way to spend 6 weeks in heaven.

Dirt merchant to A-line became daily routine, followed by a post ride drink at the GLC with a few mates. The mountain exceeded my expectations in every way possible. The cap to this entire trip was Crankworx. I had timed it so that this event was going to happen during my final week in Whistler. All I can say is WOW. Every mountain bike enthusiast must go. As if riding the mountain wasn't incredible enough, I got to follow some pro's down the trails and watch them trick gaps I couldn't even fathom rolling down even if I was the Bubble Boy.

Between the riding, the partying, the views, and the beautiful beach bodies, Whistler has it all. That month and a half I had out there has me hooked. Already I'm trying to plan a way to escape this baron flatland and it's 'hills' so that I can head out west again this summer. Penny pinching has become my way of life, but hey, if it takes me to the endless trail at mountain bike Mecca then 7-11 might want to start hiding it's take-a-penny-leave-a-penny tray.

I hope to see everyone at Whistler before the summer ends!

Submitted by:
Sean

Date:
June 17

The Man In Pink

Atop Whistler Blackcomb’s famous peaks stood a rider, as mythical as Zeus, and as great as Achilles. Though the rider did not fight wars mounted upon gallant steeds, he instead awed mortal souls who longed for speed and danger. The rider that is set atop Whistler is known only as The Man In Pink. The Man in Pink is a tall character, who’s riding wardrobe includes nothing but pink. His identity unknown, The Man In Pink stays illusive and hidden in shadow, and mystery. He Rides an RMX with the gracefulness of an eagle, and the agility of an antelope. The Man In Pink is an idol to many, but a fierce nemesis to more.

Prior to the Man In Pink’s first decent of the damp morning, he centers himself in a place of total happiness. Swinging his leg over the saddle and jamming his left, then right foot into the Crankbros Mallet C pedals he commences another of his famous descents. The first section is groomed. Our hero pedals hard into the first kicker preloading the suspension enough to pop him up onto the ladder, four more pedals and a nine foot drop, he gives it a lil flare with a fat table top. The landing was smooth and led straight into a high right handed berm. The Man In Pink executed a perfectly leaned and committed turn. Thirty or forty more yards down the trail was the first rock n root section.

The First Rock was a smooth faced lip to a long off landing; The Man In Pink sucked up the lip and flew onto the landing wasting no speed. After the landing was laid a gradual ladder that led ten feet off the floor where it then kicked him onto a suspended left hand berm. The berm dropped our hero into a steep decline that slowly arced to the left where a table top was laid in the path. The Man In Pink mobbed this fat table, owning it like a pair of cheep shoes. The trick this time is a long held suicide almost all the way to the landing. The Man In Pink mobbed turn after turn, jump after jump, all the way to the bottom. When our Hero hit the final Hip into the village he is thrilled and sad at the same time. The Man In Pink has completed yet another breathtaking run through the beautiful mountains of Whistler Blackcomb. He is sad because he has finished with the tantalizing trail that lay behind him, but thrilled because he has pushed himself hard, and overcome fears he thought unconquerable before he found mountain biking.

As our hero presses through time his name will be heard, and his skill will be recognized, but the man inside will never emerge. The veil of fame is sometimes so thick that not a one person can get inside and know the person that is within. The Man In Pink may have a name, like Alex, or Kyle, but no one will ever know him as anyone more than that totally awesome Man In Pink.

Submitted by:
Travis

Date:
June 11

I was pregnant the summer of 2006 and set to give birth during the Crankworx week.  How appropriate since we bike Whistler almost every weekend in the summers.  So last summer I had to be a spectator the first part of the summer and was not even sure if I would be able to ride after the birth. 

After four trips up to watch my husband and friends ride and sitting at the bottom I was pretty depressed.  I was due July 26th so we didn't make it up to Crankworx which we love to watch and the last two summers I had volunteered for the event and met some great folks.   I logged on to the Crankworx website from home each day hoping to see new photo's and info from the event. 

My daughter was of course late.  She came by c-section on Aug 3rd.  I was hoping not to have a c-section because I knew that meant 6 weeks more of not riding.  I went in for my six week check up on a Friday and this is a picture from the next day.  As soon as I got the go ahead I was back riding but my husband and I had to take turns on the mountain since one of us had to watch Selena.  There were many tourists taking pictures because they thought that I was riding with her on my chest.   It was great to get back to riding and the next pregnancy we will plan better so that I don't miss out on a summer of riding. :)

Submitted by:
Jessica

Date:
June 13

When I moved here in the early 80’s, I spent a lot of time cross country mountain bike riding in the UBC trails and Mount Seymour. My first bike had no suspension. Back then the bikes were pretty basic. And it wasn’t really a female sport. There was only one other girl biking back then with myself and the boys. We’d get adventurous and set up obstacles like logs, bridges, very tame stuff compared to what you see now. I loved it. Self taught skills that sometimes failed. Endo’s galore. After many years my biking turned into road biking with the odd ride in trails. Until a friend asked if I wanted to join some girls at Mount Seymour. After a grueling ascent we arrived at the top of a trail that was like the Grouse Grind. Unbelievably technical and to me not ridable. A few of us walked most of it. I was so discouraged by the whole thing I swore I would never mountain bike again. I convinced myself the whole experience was beyond my ability.

A few years ago I met a bike guy. I’d tell me stories about how I biked in the past and now I had to show him. My first ride with him proved to be awful. I was so timid and nervous, walking the smallest decline, not being able to ascent short steep hills, falling over. I was embarrassed, intimidated and upset. I tried to rationalize that my fast approaching 47th birthday was to blame. I was too old for this. But NO, I was determined to overcome my fear. So I set out to join the Spokeswomen camp last year at the Whistler Mountain Bike Park. The end of August brought on a gorgeous, hot, dry weekend. 21 adventurous participates and 5 fantastic instructors. Not knowing what to expect I bought a new bike…a hard tail at that. I thought I was all prepared…didn’t really know what to expect. Well a hard tail with a bag carrier and lady bug bell was quite the sight in the line ups on the way to Fitzsimons chair. The lifties were very curious with that lady bug bell. And what a challenge going down those trails with the hard tail. I managed the first day with a couple of minor crashes, bumps and bruises. The instructors suggested I take out a down hill bike for the second day. Oh wow what a change…the bike just bounced over everything. 6” of travel…I had no idea what that was all about until that day.

It was an amazing experience. I decided to repeat the Spokeswoman camp last weekend. I felt like a grandma…everyone was in their 20-30’s. They all could have been my daughters, except for one other participant. My friend organized a true heavy down hill big bike, armor, and full face helmet. I was prepared to conquer the mountain once again. What a rush as I descended the trails in the park. 2 big crashes, a sprained thumb, sore hip and a back that was in spasm later, I finished the first day. We were caked with mud…weather was not working with us. But that was okay…we were hard core. That last trail out I was so confident and letting off the brakes. Excited about the next day we all were on such a high.

After a great dinner out with some of the girls from the camp, we went to bed dreaming about the challenges of the next day. When I opened my eyes and tried to get out of bed, my back just ceased. I couldn’t put my socks on, could barely stand to brush my teeth. I decided it was not wise to finish the last day of the camp.

Will I be back…you bet! What a rush of adrenaline to descend the trails. The beauty of the valley from high up top of Whistler Mountain. The fog rolling in as you stand there admiring the scenery. To successfully attempt the challenging trials. And to watch with astonishment how the other riders challenge themselves. Look out Whistler, I will be back soon. The old but wise lady will be on those trails…

You are never too old to be adventurous.

Submitted by:
Helen

Date:
June 14

Submitted by: drayproductions

Date: June 18