2013 BC Bike Race (in ten words or less)

So yeah, I did the BC Bike Race.  It lasted seven times longer than the Rocky Mountain Bike Launch which I dedicated not one, but three blog posts to.

I've been home for a week now, and have yet to mention the race.  I haz reason.

I owe Dirt Rag a feature story on the race itself.  To post all the details here would not be right... so I share what I can and that's that.  The article itself can't be regurgitated blog posts. I don't want to risk my newly earned designation as junior level industry insider douchebag.

BC Bike Race is more than just the "ultimate single track experience."  It's also a lot of ferries, bus rides, lines, packing, unpacking, eating, looking for comfort and shade...

Shade... it was ridiculously hot most of the week.  Racers went to extremes to find any protection from the sun's beating rays.

Beer was not easy to come by.

It was much the point of consternation for me on Days Zero through Three.  Later in the week, that mattered much less to me.

Yeah, I spent the last four days of the race reveling in glorious diarrhea.  On, off, on, off, then on again.  Draining in all manners.  I didn't want to eat or drink anything after awhile.  By Day Six, I was crawling in and out of the tent.  Awesome.
So not much seeking of solace in a bottle after Day Three.  I was lucky to finish the race at all.

Day Six, although only a hair shy of 50k, was one of my hardest days on a bike.  I had nothing in the tank from the start.  Four hours of just trying to hold it together and not shit my chamois.

But Timmy and I managed to have fun throughout the week.  Not the raucous good times of yore, but still much laughing and cajoling, later in the week though, more at my expense.

The all too familiar scene.

Getting dropped by our start wave on the early flats of the day happened more often than not.  Those carrots would get away, and then Timmy and I would have to make a bunch of moves to get some clear single track.  The price you pay...

Of the 550 total racers, there were six single speeders.  Sam Whittingham, the man behind Naked Bicycles and the fastest man on the planet was among them.  I was the only one riding rigid.  Many found that disturbing.  I found their disturbance disturbing.  It's just a bike... with 29" wheels.  More amazing was the guy on a 26" single speed.

While Timmy and I may not have paid for massages and mechanics, we were the masters of creature comforts.  We know how to play the stage racing game.  Leather chairs in an air conditioned rec hall?  We sit in them.  Rock wall climbing mats outside the chow hall?  We were prone as a mother fucker. No comfort items available?  We made them.

Did I mention there were over 100 Mexicans at the event?  How could you tell who was Mexican and who wasn't?

They had a secret handshake.

I was treated to a special surprise... a float plane ride.

Just what I wanted on Day Four... a chance to be locked in an airborne can with no access to a bathroom.  I did not shit my pants on the plane, so there's that.

To say that British Columbia is so beautiful that you should do anything to go there at least once would be an understatement.  Jaw dropping at times.

I mean, if you like hanging out in the tent section of REI, you'd love this place.

So yeah, incredible trails and good time despite the fact that I spent much of my week seeking out bathrooms, playing Zombie Road Trip on my iPhone while sitting on the throne, and doing this:

It's a story worth telling.  Hopefully one worth reading.  All the details will come soon enough, just on paper products and I guess some downloadable thing I'm not tech savvy enough to grasp.  I'm hacking away at the keyboard, doing what I can to have it ready for Dirt Rag #173.  You don't subscribe?

What's wrong with you?

All images thanks to Timmy and his willingness to carry a camera and deal with my flatulence at the same time.