This was my first race of the season, and there are more than a few reasons why I’ve put Stottlemeyer on my calendar for the last two years.

Distance: 60 miles. Four 14.5-mile laps with some extra mileage at the start and finish. Click here for an enlarged map.

Elevation Gain: Maybe 4,000’, total. The minor elevation gain makes this an excellent early season race for those of you who, like me, can’t seem to get it into gear until mid-July.

Terrain: Nearly 90% singletrack—what’s not to like? Thanks to the recent dry spell, the course was fast. Long sections of flowy trail called for the big-ring, while more tech stretches challenged handling skills. Climbing was minimal—the first two laps I barely noticed any, though in truth there were a few short, steep sections. If there was ever a lap course that felt like it descended more than it climbed, this was it.

The Race: The women’s and men’s singlespeed fields lined up together in a wave start to begin the 60-mile event (30-milers would start approximately 30 minutes later). In total, 336 racers would share the course.

Once we were off and rolling, I held a moderately fast pace, trying to keep the couple of women who darted off ahead of me within view. After an initial dirt road spin we entered the dense wood on twisty singletrack, so it became hard to judge exactly where I was in relation to others. During the first half of the race, I would lose and then retake my position a few times as a few ladies passed me at the aide stations (I stopped a record number of times during the race), but I caught up fast.

Because my cyclometer wasn’t showing mileage, it was nice to have the two aide stations at equidistant points on the course to help orient me. I’d only ridden this trail system once before at last year’s race, when the course seemed easier to anticipate, as the wetter conditions created several memorable boggy sections. This year, a lot of the course blended together in my mind.

Since my brain couldn’t remember what came next, it kept the course endlessly interesting. The terrain often demanded quick, snappy decisions and the occasional track stand to get lined up right. We racers threaded trees, negotiated roots and traversed singletrack cut into steep side slopes. On every lap I was once again surprised by something I’d seen on the trail before, like the screaming descent to a quick right-hander that I’d mentally named “overshot turn.” But no matter how often I was blindsided by one of those steep climbs on the course, I was able to downshift fast and let my nimble Diamondback Axis do its thing.

On the last lap I stopped to get some water at the midpoint aide station. I hadn’t seen a 60-miler woman racer for countless miles, so when she blazed by as I was jumping back on my bike I kicked it into high gear. I caught back up to her and learned it was Sarah Tingey, a super-nice Portland-based rider I had met last year. We kept pace together, trading drafts for the final 7 miles and commiserating when we hit the last groaning, uphill stretch to the finish. Sarah and I rolled across the line together, high-fiving, to take 3rd place in the Open Women’s category (after Natasha Hernday and Alice Drobna), finishing middle of the pack in the men and women’s overall (118 riders).

People on the sidelines had been calling out to Sarah and me to make a sprint to the finish, but after riding the last several miles together, a joint finish just felt right. Just call it “sharing the ride” on a course that was, after all, designed for fun.

Thanks to Diamondback for my awesome ride–my Axis never fails me–and to my racing team’s title sponsor, Sturdy Bitch, which reminds me how to think of myself when I have miles yet to ride. And a big thanks to Kevin Reinkensmeyer and the rest of the NW Epic Series crew–especially the generous volunteers manning the feed stations (hey Patrick and Robert–hope you’re racing with us next year!)

Want to ride the trails we raced? Here are directions:

Directions to Port Gamble Trails from Seattle
1. Take I-5 North
2. Take Exit 177 for WA-104 W toward Edmonds
3. Turn right at WA-104 W/NE 205th St/Lake Ballinger Way
4. Continue to follow WA-104 W, follow signs for WA-104 W/Kingston Ferry
5. Take the WA-104 W/Kingston – Edmonds ferry to Kingston (approx. 30 min. crossing)
6. Continue straight onto WA-104 W
7. Turn right at NE East 1st St, go 0.3 Miles
8. Turn right at WA-104 W, go 3.7 mi
9. Turn right to stay on WA-104 W, go 3.3 mi
10. Turn right onto Event Grounds.

See you on the trails!

Angela Sucich, Freelance Writer

www.angelasucich.com

“It’s going to be an 8-foot drop to flat,” said Westra.

I really didn’t know what to say.

“Just kidding,” said Westra.

Apparently, this new “fly-over” structure will have a ramp up to the apex and another one down the other side, which will feed into a huge, speed-catching berm.

“I like berms,” I said.

The amazing constructed elements are a big reason why riders of every level and style are flocking to Duthie Hill Mountain Bike Park. Even people who are reticent about riding ramp work can appreciate how cool it is to ride in a place where natural and constructed trail features seem to work so well together. Clearly there’s an art to trail construction–and to built structures in particular–but one doesn’t need to be so skilled to lend a hand in the building process.

According to Westra, for the next couple of weeks, work party members are needed to help transplant flora–including lush and lovely fiddle-neck ferns–before the plants become too brittle to move. And if you can swing a shovel, that’s really all you need to be put to work.

You also don’t have to wait for a scheduled work party on the Evergreen calendar to get involved. If you can rally your own group, you can set up a time with Westra to come out and dig in. Contact him at mwestra@evergreenMTB.org

See you on the trail–or at the work party.

Angela Sucich, Freelance Writer

www.angelasucich.com

More than a dozen riders gathered at Brouer’s in Fremont for the 11am (sleepy yawn) start. Quite a few characters livened up the crowd, such as Mr. Orange Man, equipped with mimosas, Cheeze-Its and other orange-colored fare:

There was Happy Dead Viking Man–

–and Mr. Congeniality:

But the event really got underway when organizer Colin Meagher arrived (fashionably late) to explain the complicated rules: ride to point A, then to point B, etc.; pick up a poker card at key locations, yadda-yadda.

Actually, there were a couple more rules, most of which centered on drinking etiquette: riders could sprint ahead of the pack to vie for a “wild” card, which promised a better poker hand. Best hand at the end of the day won the pot (i.e. all entry fees). Of course, you had to shotgun a tallboy or shoot whiskey to win a wild card, and your performance mattered. So before the start, riders demonstrated perfect shotgunning technique:

Then we lined up in what passed for a straight line, and off went the Urban Coyote riders! …only to stop a mere fifteen yards away for the first wild card shotgun. (I suppose it’s never too soon.)

Off again, we rode in a motley pack–sometimes a paceline, sometimes a mob–spinning our wheels through Wallingford, the U-district and Capitol Hill, riding on trail wherever we could find it. Dropping down onto Lake Washington Blvd., we followed singletrack along the waterfront all the way to Genesse Park, our turnaround for this year’s course. Then back again, making a round-about Z-line (rather than a B-line) to Kirk Cobain’s house for another shotgun (oops, sorry; too resonant).

A grunt of a climb took us up from LWB up to Plum Tree Park in the Central District, followed by an exhilarating, switch-backing descent along its steep slope. Conscious of the vertical, we navigated our ‘cross bikes along the sometimes narrow singletrack, which was punctuated by slippery steps, roots and rocks that made one a tad wistful for a mountain bike. Near the bottom we stopped for yet another shotgun–whiskey this time.

As we headed towards home, someone had the bright idea to take a short house-party break for beer and Cheeze-Its while we let our bikes take a breather:

Once back on the bike, we couldn’t pass up a lap or two on the XC trails at Colonnade in Eastlake. Then we reluctantly embraced asphalt again for the spin along Westlake over the Fremont Bridge and back to Brouer’s for some grub.

It was a fun event this year, with precious sunshine and plenty of good company. I was particularly happy to stay on course this year (compare my blog post from two years ago), for which I credit the group, which mainly stayed together, only breaking away on a hill or when a wild card was at stake. In fact, that camaraderie was my favorite part. This year, and every year.

See you next year at the Urban Coyote!

Angela Sucich, Freelance Writer

These words of encouragement, famously spoken by race director Ken Chlouber the evening before each Leadville Trail 100 mountain bike race, are surprisingly comforting when you find yourself 50 miles – and 12,424 feet – into a high-altitude Rockies ride, knowing full well that you have 50 miles left to go.

So how did I get here? I may be no stranger to endurance events, but high altitude racing is no friend of mine, living as I do at sea level. But Cascade Designs also calls Seattle home, and when I was asked by the company renown for their outdoor gear to ride for their Team Platypus, I couldn’t refuse.

So I packed up the car and headed to Colorado for a week of pre-race training. I couldn’t argue with getting to visit my old haunts, or getting in a mountain bike ride with local flavor (Nederland to Boulder), an epic scenery ride (Monarch Crest Trail) and fun resort riding (Winter Park).

But Leadville was the culmination.

That Saturday morning at 6:30 a.m., I took my place at the starting line with the other members from Team Platypus – a strong collective of riders from Washington, Oregon, Idaho and Colorado – along with 1,892 other participants from 50 states and 24 countries. That’s right: 1,900 racers. And what’s more impressive is that to get into the single largest endurance mountain bike event usually takes some serious luck (i.e. winning a lottery entry). And there’s also the bit of luck it sometimes requires to finish 100 out-and-back mountain miles in under 12 hours.

Back at the start line. With nervous excitement, we waited for the gun. While team member Russell Stevenson got a call-up to head to the front of the pack, the rest of Team Platypus riders, being Leadville-newbies, were stuck at the back of the pack. At the time, I didn’t realize what having 1,750 riders in front of me would actually mean, but it became all-too clear over the next hour.

Then: the race start! We’re off and spinning…

“-Slowing!” … “-Stopping!”

…and going nowhere, it felt like, for 20 miles. I checked my cyclometer during the first five-mile descent on pavement, and at times our dense peloton was moving at a whopping 4 mph. When we hit dirt and a minor climb, instead of thinning us out, it became massive bottleneck.

But what else could possibly happen, given the numbers participating in this epic race event? And how can you deal with an hour of spinning your wheels, with no possibilty of making any headway through the pack without acting like a total jerk, plowing your way through others who are also forced to sit idly by, spinning their wheels?

Well, we laugh. And make jokes about herding cattle. Or cats. Or mountain bikers who don’t know how to ride in a peloton. I had plenty of time to share in good conversation, and it was nice. Probably the best, gentlest warm-up I’ve ever had in a race.

The crowd started to thin when we got to Sugar Loaf Pass at 11,000 feet, about 19 miles in. The descent down Powerline was up next. The day before I got to ride Powerline with my teammates – it was Russell Stevenson’s idea – and Saturday’s wild descent was just as fun as Friday’s, and decidely more challenging. I had to take the ugly lines down the fast, dusty, rutted-out double track in order to dodge around racers hanging on their brake levers for dear life. Now, don’t get me wrong – these super-fit athletes would later come back to teach me a lesson on the pavement and the dirt road climbs – but I have to say, I’ve never seen so many mountain bikers afraid of a mountain before.

Then we were down, headed out on a stretch of pavement, then sailing along a couple miles of smooth, winding singletrack (the only singletrack we would see on the course) towards Twin Lakes Aid Station. And then I had a dream that I was at a mountain stage in the Tour de France, and it was almost true.

I and my fellow two-thousand racers rode along a reservoir crowded with hundreds of tents and a thousand screaming people on either side – cheering for me and for everyone else in this crazy race. I felt so, so – well, cared about. I wasn’t in the lead, I was holding my own in the middle of the pack, but I had this visceral feeling that we were all in this together. With the energy the crowd gave me, I pedaled on past the aid station, en route to the infamous Columbine climb.

Now, it isn’t the fact that Columbine tops out at 12,424 feet that makes my brain revolt even now, a week following the race. No, it’s the fact that I had to hike, dragging my bike up the several vertical miles on that famed mountain climb. And these aren’t normal miles. They’re “Columbine” miles: steep, sandy and rider-congested. Because Columbine featured two-way traffic, riders were relegated to walking on the righthand side, a stream of hundreds of trudging riders that eliminated any possibility of riding uphill. Sigh. It hurt. A lot. But once I hit 50-mile aid station at the top of Columbine, I was on the downhill side, glad not to be in that stream of people still pressing onward and upward.

I did not get a chance for my technical climb until I hit Powerline again around 75 miles. But first I stopped at the Pipeline Aid Station to restock on Perpetuum, cramp-preventing bananas and some great Platypus support from Jim and Jennifer. Then I was off for the final, uphill stretch.

I had been told that the Powerline return would be the make-or-break moment of the race, and it certainly made my race: I had almost as much fun going up it as coming down it. Seriously.

There’s nothing like riding your bike past hundreds of people walking theirs. Their cheers of encouragement were nice, but not as nice as not having to walk my bike uphill. (Don’t these walkers know that it’s harder to walk your bike uphill than ride it?)

Okay, so I did slip out on the steepest section of Powerline and so had to walk a short bit. But it happened right where a woman was passing out cups of Coca-Cola. Ahhh. That hit the spot.

Then I was back on the bike, spinning little circles again, keeping the rear wheel firmly planted as I picked my line around rocks, ruts and riders.

Then it was down Sugarloaf, my intrepid Diamondback Axis hardtail romping its way past all the full-suspension bikes out there. The last 10 miles of the race felt endless, with a last paved road climb, a last fire road climb, and a last effort up the road to Leadville proper and across the red-carpeted finish line. But there I was, finished, in under 11 hours.

When I saw my time, I thought to myself. Hmmm, if I could adjust to the altitude and have a more appropriate start position next time, perhaps I could drop my time by an hour… And then I thought with horror, next time??

Leadville winners Todd Wells and Rebecca Rusch killed the competition. I came in 47th out of the women, 16th in my division, and well in the top half of the overall field. Still, what I really wanted was a silver belt buckle, and I got it:

Thanks so much to our amazing sponsors and support crew, Cascade Designs, and their Platypus hydration systems and bottles that got us through Leadville training and racing. All eight Team Platypus members finished the race, receiving silver (or gold) belt buckles with pride.

Thanks to Jim Meyers for the amazing photography. You can really see what it felt like out there.

Thanks to the Leadville organizers and all the people scattered across the hundred-mile course who cheered us on – and doused us with ice water when we needed it.

And finally, thank you to that guy who passed me on a flat, lonely, paved section, then slowed and called out, “Get on!” Because of that blessed moment when he gave me his wheel, I was able to face the bane of my existence (i.e. pavement) and get back up to speed.

I never thought I would race the Leadville 100. I had heard that it was a “roadie race” over fire roads and pavement, requiring little skill on a mountain bike. And, honestly, that part’s true. It is a road race that happens to be on dirt. But as it turns out, it’s worth something invaluable to tackle something outside of your element:

“You’re better than you think you are. You can do more than you think you can.”

It took racing the Leadville 100 to realize that I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. What matters at Leadville isn’t so much about the terrain as the experience itself: the people, the riders, the fans, the heaven-seeking Rockies, the literal push uphill – and, of course, the grateful return home.

See you on the trails (and maybe next year at Leadville),

Angela Sucich, Freelance Writer

www.angelasucich.com

“You’re better than you think you are. You can do more than you think you can.”

Tweet this post.

And what’s worse than riding 106 miles? Taking a detour that added on several more miles.

Yes, a little part of me died inside when I missed a crucial turn mid-race, which would not be my only route confusion of the day. However, I’m here to celebrate the many high points of this event. But first, the trail beta:

Distance: 106+ miles (and some added miles for those not born with the GPS gene)

Elevation gain: 12,000’+

Highlights: Lap 1’s Storm King-Tyler’s Traverse-Larsen Trail loop

Lowlights: See “Distance,” above.

The course: First, congratulations to race organizer Mike Ripley and Mudslinger Events for their third annual High Cascade 100. Every year, the event seems to run more smoothly. From the streamlined, efficient race meeting on Friday, to the well-oiled aide station machines on race day, this organization and its committed volunteers really know how to put on an event.

That isn’t to say the organizers faced no challenges: putting on this show meant re-routing the course as late as last week, due to the consequences of a heavy winter and late snow melt. While COTA (Central Oregon Trail Alliance), a beneficiary of proceeds from the event, was able to clear a thousand downed trees from the trails in time for the race, countless others still littered the original course around Mount Bachelor. Hence, plan B: a 40-mile Loop 2 up Bridge Creek Burn to Farewell Spring and Tumalo Falls.

The re-route may have meant missing out on my favorite Lava-Edison trail, with its technical rock riding, but we did get to ride sections of trail on Loop 1 that I’ll remember for years to come. Fast, flow-y, swoop-y—only the silliest-sounding words seem to capture the pure, child-like fun to be had on the loop connecting Storm King, Tyler’s Traverse and Larsen Trail. I’d buy a ticket to ride this smooth, fast-rolling coaster anytime. (I vote we just do multiple laps on Loop 1 next year.)

The Race: More than 200 riders started off on a seven-mile paved climb in just-above-freezing temperatures, then stormed down a fast-rolling double-track descent and through the two-way Tiddlywinks trail.

I vaguely recall singletrack and double track climbing in the first lap (there was 4,000’ of elevation gain, apparently), but it was the descending that left an impression. At one point, a guy riding behind me let out a whoop, saying, “I forgot we were racing. This is just like a trail ride!”

By the first aide station at mile 35, my hip flexors were killing me, so I dropped my saddle a bit and rolled on. Lap 2 was a big one. Totaling 40 miles, it included hard pushes around Bridge Creek Burn and Tumalo Falls. At some point I missed a course arrow directing racers into hidden singletrack, and I kept riding along until a sinking feeling led me to notice that there were no more trail markers. I spun around and put in a hard effort to get back on course and back into the race.

Loop 2 was Mike Ripley’s plan B for the course routing, and while it had its moments, it did mean two passes through Flagline Tie and Flagline trails, with their soul-crushing false flats. Needless to say, I wouldn’t terribly mind if I never ride those trails again.

Two times through Old Swampy led us to the final 25-mile lap. The climbs on Lap 3 were steeper, if less sustained, and each straining pedal-crank brought us that much closer to home. A few short, technical climbs up rocky singletrack hurt my body but kept my mind interested. And every time the trail turned downward, I felt a surge of renewal, remembering, yes, this is what we do all this for.

When I hit the last fire road stretch, punctuated by a few steep, ego-busting hills, I kept an eye on my cyclometer, counting off my extra miles, telling myself that they were character-building. When I rolled across the finish line, I made a vow to be in better shape and more observant next year—and wondered if I had made the same vow last year.

The High Cascade 100—whatever the chosen course, and however many miles it happens to be that particular year—is itself character-building. It’s one of the few events I know of that offers mountain bikers a perfect balance of support and pressure to push them to and beyond their limits. It’s an event focused on finishers as much as winners.

This year I finished 6^th in the pro women’s category, and 9th in the open women’s category. I may not have had as strong a finish as in year’s past, but I was proud to earn a finisher’s growler for the third year in a row:

Huge thanks goes to Big Tree Bikes, who overhauled my fork and fine-tuned my brakes and shifting for the race. My Diamondback Axis hardtail handled superbly. Almost no one—save one guy on a full-suspension bike—was able to pass me on the downhill.

I also want to thank Sturdy Bitch, my team’s title sponsor, for giving me a strong philosophy and attitude to fall back on when enduring was the only option. And a big shout-out goes to my Sturdy Bitch Racing teammate, Katie Jackson, who finished her first 100-mile mountain bike race at the High Cascade 100!

And finally, thanks, Mudslinger Events. Great ride.

See you on the trails!

Angela Sucich, Freelance Writer

www.angelasucich.com

For a couple of ladies, this was the first time riding singletrack in years. For at least one rider, it was the first time ever on dirt. For all of us, it was a great time, full of smiles and laughs. Learning is always better when it’s fun.

Needless to say, the clinic focused on the basics: body positioning, shifting and braking, and staying loose and fluid on the bike. After several lessons and practice sessions, the group took their skills to the trail, riding Duthie’s Boot Camp and Step It Up trails.

The ladies navigated singletrack turns and negotiated obstacles like roots and even ladders. These intrepid beginner mountain bikers impressed us all.

Here are a few videos taken during the lesson portion of the clinic, led by Coach Kathy Malvern.

Lesson 1: Body Positioning

Video: Coach Kathy teaches beginning mountain bikers the basics: correct body positioning on the bike to prepare for riding over obstacles.

Lesson 2: Shifting and Braking

Video: Kathy gives beginner mountain bikers tips for shifting and braking.

Lesson 3: Dynamic Movement

Video: Beginner mountain bikers learn how to stay loose over rough and variable terrain.

See you new mountain bikers on the trail!

Angela Sucich, freelance writer

Host to the second race in the NW Epic Series (and many mountain bike events in years past), the Echo Valley Ski Area trails presented mountain bike racers with miles and miles of smooth, flowy singletrack. Of course, even smooth, flowy singletrack can start to feel hard when you’re 40+ miles into a 60-mile race…

Distance: 60 miles (in 4 laps)

Elevation: 8,500’+

Terrain: Smooth, fast singletrack with some fire road climbs.

Notables: This “fast” course was not without its challenges, from the grueling start up a 2.3-mile gravel road, to the near 2,000’ of elevation gain per lap (which, with the extra climb at the start, ended up totaling more than 8,500’ overall).

The descents were fast and fun—and easy to do on my Diamondback Axis hardtail. Knowing there were zero rocks in my path made descending a simple matter of “point and shoot”, though personally, I’d trade a little speed for a variety of terrain, any day.

The Race: “Brutal” best describes the start of the race: 2.3 miles, straight up. Anyone from Seattle or Issaquah who spent last winter doing Tiger Mountain fire road climbs would have had their training redeemed that morning.  I started off slow—not only because it was in my plan (having gone out a bit too fast at last month’s Stottlemeyer 30/60 Endurance Race)—but also because I had no warm-up time. Despite my measured pace, I felt a nausea that would linger well into the second lap.

But once that first big climb was over, there was singletrack to welcome us. Smooth and rolling, the ribbon of trail took us all along the hillside and valley. Throughout the course, the singletrack ranged from narrow to wide, opening up to double track in places, which allowed for easy passing.

As I finished the first lap, I thought to myself that the “roadie” mountain bikers who had signed up for this race were likely in heaven now: the sustained climbs were perfectly suited for über-fit riders, and the course posed no technical challenges to slow them down. But then I passed my friend Carl Hulit, carrying his un-rideable bike back to an aide station. Carl, who last month won the first race in the series for the 30-mile event, somehow had hit a stump while trying to pass one of the race leaders. While I was surprised to learn that he had found a stump somewhere out there to hit, I knew how easy it was for a fast, non-technical course to encourage riders to take even greater risks.

And speaking of safety, there was also a section of singletrack with two-way traffic on it, which could have posed a safety risk. But the race organizers worked to make part of the course safe and navigable by including race tape, signage and other dividing barriers—and all the racers I encountered handled this section conscientiously.

Highlights: The best part of the race was the screaming fast descents (obviously). Apart from Carl’s mystery stump, there were no obstacles to hit, so you could really open it up—as long as you made a few crucial corners. The course topography also made it easy to fuel, which is key to sustaining energy during long races like this one. The aid station volunteers were friendly, and the stations were well-stocked with food, if without a Coke or Pepsi. Sigh.

Lowlights: The low point of the race for me was not the grueling climb at the start of the race, but something that happened during my third lap: mechanical. Something came loose in my bottom bracket. I stopped several times to try to isolate the problem, but neither I nor another kind racer who stopped to help could figure it out. So I got back on, hoping my bike could stick it out for the last two laps. It was a challenging two laps—with every pedal stroke, something internal would catch and shake my entire bike—but my Axis is a tough bike, and it helped me finish the race in 3^rd place, in under 6 hours. (It’s appropriate, I think, that I race for Sturdy Bitch Racing…as it turns out, my bike is one, too:)

Natasha Hernday put in a smoking time to win the 60-mile women’s open event, while Russell Stevenson swept the men’s event, and didn’t even look tired doing it.

Although this course may not have played to my technical strengths, it was a fun, well-organized event. And I have to say, it was nice to finally ride under sunny blue skies, given the cold, wet spring we’ve had in Seattle. One word of warning: if you want to ride the nearly tree-free Echo Valley trails, be prepared to go home with indelible tan lines.

Directions: Driving from Chelan, take Hwy 150 towards Manson for about 1 mile and turn right at Bodum Road (look for the “Echo Valley Recreation Area” sign). Follow the Echo Valley signs for about another 6 miles to the Echo Valley Ski Area.

Check out my previous post about the first race in the NW Epic Series, the Stottlemeyer 30/60 Endurance Race.

Update: Yep, turns out my bottom bracket was toast. But I just got a new one, and I’m back in the saddle. See you on the trail!

Angela Sucich, freelance writer

There are a number of factors to explain why races in Washington State—and most XC races in the western U.S.—are this way, including race logistics and safety reasons. But for those who lament the lack of technical XC courses, here’s one that’s actually fun to ride: the Stottlemeyer 30/60 Endurance Race, held May 14th in Port Gamble, Washington.

Before you get super-excited for next year’s event, this is not a Whistler-, Squamish-, or BC-styled XC course, routed over startling features and built structures that you’re amazed you can ride—not to mention clear at speed. But Stottlemeyer boasts the kind of singletrack that got you hooked on riding in the first place: twisty, rooted trail through thick stands of trees, fast open sections you can ride in the big ring, and plunging descents that make all the climbing worth it.

That’s the kind of mountain bike race I can sign up for. The first race in the NW Epic Series, Stottlemeyer is an annual endurance race that lets riders choose between two race course lengths: 30 miles, or an epic 60 miles. That translates into 2-4 laps on a 15-mile course. And with the hard climbs, snappy descents, and a spider web of roots to navigate, this course had something for every kind of rider to love.

Distance: 60 miles (in 4 laps)

Elevation: 3,800’

Terrain: twisty, rooty forest; several very steep but short singletrack climbs; some fire road.

The Race: This was first race of the season, and my first chance to represent Sturdy Bitch Racing, and it may have started off a bit too fast, given my limited warm-up. But it’s hard not to get caught up in the charge of adrenaline and nerves at the start of any race. However, I maintained a good, solid pace during my first and second laps.

For the first 30 miles, the course was crowded, filled with 30-mile racers plus my own 60-mile contingent. Often I would find myself in a train of riders, weaving in a graceful line along forested switchbacks. Then we’d be jockeying for new positions, depending on whether the terrain started to climb or descend.

By the third and fourth laps, the riders had spread out, and most of us 60-mile racers were riding alone or in pairs. By the third lap, I had slowed to a crawl before I realized that I had forgotten to fuel appropriately. My friend Brian, who was riding with me for a while, kept me going. It was very kind of him, especially considering how I had accidentally led him astray in one section by taking a right instead of a left at a crucial moment. But that’s what fatigue does to my brain—makes it impossible to see the big sign with the arrow, pointing out the course direction.( Thankfully, we only lost 5-10 minutes at the most.)

Pounding some GU and chewing a few Cliff Blocks helped me find my second wind for the final lap. Having learned every corner of those trails by the third lap, I powered through the fourth like I was riding in my backyard. I snapped up fourth place just a few minutes ahead of the next open/pro women.

Highlights: My Diamondback Axis was nimble on the twists and turns, responsive on the climbs and dependable on the steep climbing sections. And it was rock-solid on that super fun, flowy singletrack descent (sure, there were others, but you racers know the one I’m talking about) that dumped you  out—grinning from ear to ear—at the fire road to the finish.

Lowlights: Deep in the forest, there were several route options, and at one crucial T, I tried to take the wrong path. As I over-corrected, I banged my knee against the top tube, and, finding the one sharp corner of my housing guide, cut myself. My knee wouldn’t stop aching until the following lap, but it was merely a flesh wound, after all. It’s not mountain biking until someone draws blood:)

Directions from Seattle:

1. Take I-5 North

2. Take Exit 177 for WA-104 W toward Edmonds

3. Turn right at WA-104 W/NE 205th St/Lake Ballinger Way

4. Continue to follow WA-104 W, follow signs for WA-104 W/Kingston Ferry

5. Take the WA-104 W/Kingston – Edmonds ferry to Kingston, Trip Time roughly 30 Minutes

6. Continue straight onto WA-104 W

7. Turn right at NE East 1st St, go 0.3 Miles

8. Turn right at WA-104 W, go 3.7 mi

9. Turn right to stay on WA-104 W, go 3.3 mi

10.Turn right onto Event Grounds

See you on the trail!

Angela Sucich, freelance writer

If you listened to pro rider Mike Metzger talk about Kelly McGarry’s “lovely golden long hair” while announcing last Saturday’s Ranchstyle Slopestyle Competition in Grand Junction, Colorado, you might think he’s half in love with the Diamondback-sponsored rider from New Zealand. But it’s quite possible that anyone watching the Kiwi throwing down the back flips and no-handers last weekend would have fallen in love with the spectacle.

The video above shows 3rd-place finisher McGarry in the final round of last weekend’s Slopestyle Competition, held in the Glade Park area of Grand Junction, Colorado. The second clip, below, shows him on the Whale Tail, a unique feature that let the best riders combine back flips and 360s in one fell swoop. In the final clip, when you hear the guy with the career in bike acrobatics say his Diamondback Dreamliner “does the job,” you tend to believe him.

Finally, lest we seem too partial to the Diamondback athlete, here’s a video of the 1st place Ranchstyle Slopestyle winner, Greg “the robot” Watts:

Want to read more about the 2011 Ranchstyle Mountain Bike Festival? Check out the previous post, Big Tricks Win Big at Ranchstyle Slopestyle.

www.angelasucich.com

Entering the final round, it was anyone’s competition to win. It might have been crowd-pleaser and last night’s Best Trick winner, Mike Montgomery, or New Zealander Kelly McGarry (identified by pro rider and announcer Mike Metzger as “the tallest rider in the competition…with the golden, flowing locks!”), who ranked first as riders took their final run.

But it was Greg Watts (aka, “the robot”) who took the podium with big back flips and consistent tricks at every turn. Second to Watts was Anthony Messere, followed by McGarry. Fourth was crowd favorite Montgomery, and rounding out the money winners was Tyler McCaul in fifth.

Ranchstyle continues today with the Big Slalom competition. This is the fourth year of the Ranchstyle Mountain Bike Festival and the first year the Grassroots Cycles-sponsored event plays host to the Freeride World Tour. The other two U.S. stops on the tour are Crankworx in Winter Park, Colorado, and  the Teva Mountain Games in Vail.

Here’s a video of 3rd-place finisher and Diamondback rider McGarry’s amazing run in the finals:*

More videos and pics are on the way. See you on the trails.

- Angela Sucich

www.angelasucich.com

*Full disclosure: I’m admittedly biased for Diamondback. And they’re awesome.