I'm IN.

I can't think of a better occasion to start up this blog again than to make this announcement. Ready? I am finally going to compete in the item that's been languishing at the top of my bucket list since they started running it: the BC Bike Race. 

The event is a seven-day stage race, starting June 28, 2014. I'll be racing in the solo/open category on a course that's been called the most marvellous on earth, if you're one for the singletrack. Which I most certainly am. So friends, mark your calendars and shine up your cowbells. It's only ten months and 12 days away. 

I'll keep this post short but close with the promise of more blogging as I prepare for what is sure to be the most challenging event of my cycling career. But in the meantime, I want to say thank you to my husband, Gerhard, who rather than balk at the crazy idea (what with the cost, the commitment, the up-in-the-airness of our lives), said "I think you'd better do it" almost before I'd got the words out of my mouth. Feeling pretty lucky these days. 

Lots to catch up on, so stay tuned. And check out the video below to get a taste of the adventure that's waiting! 

Parlez-Vous Olympics?!

I never thought I'd say this, but ... I'M GOING TO THE OLYMPICS.

Before you get too excited, let me add the caveat that I'm going as a volunteer, not an athlete. In this, I shall endeavour to represent my country proudly, speak french, and make sure that you — dear spectator — get to your seat comfortably and on time.

This is my pledge.

I have been appointed "Team Leader" at the Whistler Sliding Centre and while I'm not sure exactly what that means, I know I'll have 8-10 other volunteers to lead into service-with-a-smile glory; I know I'll be on Blackcomb Mountain; I know I'll be standing outside 8-10 hours a day; and I know I'll be wearing my crazy party pants that, yes, GLOW IN THE DARK.

Hopefully, I'll get a walkie-talkie too because that would seriously make my day. Over.

I'm so excited I could puke. Stay tuned for more updates from Krislake.blogspot.com: OLYMPIC BLOG.

I'm the hairy one in the middle, leading TEAM KRIS.

West is Best

Dont' get me wrong, I love Ontario too. But it's January ... and it's just not that awesome at the moment.

Hence, I headed west to Courtenay BC to ring in the New Year. If I could fold up my sports equipment into bite-size packages, I could have skied in the morning, then biked in the afternoon. It's winter up high, but at sea-level, it's still spring! Since both my favourite sports take up so much room in suitcases, I opted to bring out just the sticks. (And make up for the bike with my running shoes.)

I had ulterior motives as well of course -- Gerhard has left Ontario for his annual sojourn West. His parents live in Courtenay so he spends some time with them for the holidays before relocating to Squamish for the rest of the winter. I met them for the first time and was treated to warm hospitality, great walks with Max-the-dog, and some pretty amazing eats!!

I stayed a week, and it went by way too fast. Time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana!

But holidays don't mean training stops ... completely: I ran my first 10 kilometres-in-a-row ... and rode my first box in the park, too. Woo hoo! Gerhard, Adlar (his brother) and I got up to Mt. Washington a couple times, and a had wonderful time both days.

Pros: some seriously fun runs (rollers! pow! park!); Beaver Tails — Killaloe FTW!; Amazing zones on the back side like a secret gully (that wasn't so secret); cool vibe including hitch hiking snowboarders, bra tree and even a Christmas Tree!; kettle chips; the Boomerang chairlift and everything it reaches; Adlar Gross's amazing kamikaze snowboard stylings (limited time only); great conditions both days, said the girl from Ontario.

Cons: Sushi Mon by the Hawk Chair for lunch was a bust -- wasted way too much time NOT shredding while waiting for crappy Raman noodles -- at least the sushi was decent (tip courtesy of an otherwise friendly hitch hiker we picked up); um ... what's with the lift-littering?; holy line-ups batman ('tis the season); bad drivers burning up their brakes on the road back down the hill (stinky!!!); sore feet from boot-breaking-in-age.

50 cm of snow fell before our second visit so it was a hard day's work on the hill skiing through all that powder. Woe is me! Alas, the sun came out and things got a little heavy, but still awesome. On top of all the other awesomeness, I was rocking my new skis and my new boots (Thanks G and Steph!!). Both get top marks!! I was a better skier instantly!

Back at Sea Level, we did a bit of one of my favourite things: picking up stuff from the beach. Much more sporting in BC because of all the amazing things that wash up! Like Turkish Towel sea weed, Bull Kelp, sea shells galore, pretty round rocks and even things you can eat! Gerhard's dad was telling me that when they went camping as a family, they never brought any food; they didn't need to because there were enough oysters and other sea food to keep everyone satisfied. Amazing.

We visited the only chocolate shop that I think might give Mill Creek a run for its money: Hot Chocolates. Their sea salt caramels are heavenly. Thank god they deliver!!

For New Year's we dined on crab and lobster with some Moet to wash it down, played a rousing game of Yahtzee then banged pots and pans at midnight to keep the ghosties away. I started 2010 rested, refreshed, and renewed.

On my last day, Gerhard and I took the ferry over to Denman Island. We walked the beach, picking up Oysters, stalking a Blue Heron (or was he stalking us?!) and exploring the sea side. We had a drink at a pub overlooking the Strait of Georgia, and learned a thing or two from CBC radio while snacking on candied salmon. It was a perfect day.

The only good thing about saying goodbye, is getting to say hello again. So ... until next time!

I passed The Test!

Now that my fingers have at last become ungnarled I'll share with you my latest adventures on the left coast. Back in April when I came out for some Easter riding, it seemed everyone I met wanted to know one thing: "Are you coming back for The Test?" "What the hell is that?" I wanted to know. So after a few first-hand accounts, a bit of googling, and some humming and hawing, I decided to give it a whirl.

The Test of Metal is the "Canadian Epic" mountain bike race. It's been held every year in Squamish BC since the mid nineties ... which is just about as old as it gets when it comes to mountain bike racing. You can read more about the history of the race here. By the numbers, the Test of Metal is a 67km point to point race. There are 35km of some of the sweetest single track in the country, layered with 1,200m of climbing.

My own Test experience began on Wednesday with a flight out to Vancouver. Kona Matt was my hero that night: he and his lovely girlfriend Larissa picked me up in the Kona van from the airport. We quickly did a beer bong and then went on our merry way. Okay, not really. Larissa and Matt ferried me to Squampton and then Matt helped me get the bike ready to rip before they headed back to Coquitlam. It wasn't until it was time to say goodbye that I found out it was actually their third anniversary that night, so boy did I feel blessed to have been taken care of so nicely on such a special occasion. There are some truly decent people in this world, I tell ya. THANKS!!

Thursday I wanted to get out and see the big scary race course. Or at least the important parts. I sure didn't plan to ride the whole thing. The only problem was that I didn't know any riders in town. So I went and loitered around Republic Bike Shop until I met Karl, who was kind enough to squeeze in a ride before his massage. Plus I got to meet his adorable puppy Mia, a four-month-old huksy and future trail dog.

Mia

When it came to the coruse, for the most part, I was kind of underwhelmed. I'll be honest, I was starting to wonder what all the fuss was about. It seemed like whenever we rode something I felt would be tough at speed, I'd discover that it was just a route Karl was taking us on to connect to a part of the course that was actually in the race. So ... a lot of double track was covered before we arrived at the famous Powerhouse Plunge. At which point I was decidely overwhelmed. I bounced my way down in a combination of sketchy riding and hike-a-bike. Twice I thought I was going over the bars in some of the more perilous angles I've ever encountered on two wheels. Immediately after the ride, I began focusing my energy on mentally smoothing out the trail so that it would go a little better on race day.

Just before plunging.

Friday I woke up with a migraine. The weather forecasted a week of rain before I left, but I had yet to see any of the wet stuff. Back home, I'd asked Nancy to do her sun dance and it turns out she's really good at it. When they weren't busy looking for cougars, the whole town was looking up, wondering where the rain was. I was thankful for the weather but could have done without the migraine. Perhaps it also had something to do with the entire wheel of award-winning brie I consumed ... but who could say for sure?

Mmmmm ... Brie. I'm intolerant of lactose intolerance.

It was really trying to rain, and I wasn't the only one with a resulting headache. Finally, Friday night the clouds emptied and my head cleared like someone had flipped a switch. So Friday ended up being a rest day like it was supposed to be. If I hadn't had a massive headache, I'd have been out sabotaging my race by riding to my heart's content, so perhaps it was for the best.

With the perfect amount of rain Friday night, the course was in prime condition on Saturday. The dusty corners had been tacked up a bit. The clouds still hung around a little keeping the sun off the exposed climbs. And the pressure was down so my head finally felt less like a cinder block.

It was a strange feeling being at a race where I didn't recognize anyone. Not even familiar jerseys! Occassionally a stranger would come up to me and say hello. I met some nice people from Toronto, and reunited with my Easter Bunny from April. The starting area at the Brennan Community Centre was a bit of a zoo. Almost 1,000 racers, plus their supporters were milling around chatting, peeing, and hydrating before the opening ceremomies. When your bike is ready, to claim your spot in the starting chute you turn it upside down and leave it between the tape so you're still free to keep chatting, peeing and hydrating without worrying about getting a good position.

Bikes all in a row

Since I was racing in the Elite category, we got our own starting chute right at the front of the race. That meant I had a primo vantage point for the ceremonial drum and dance the Squamish First Nation performed.

Squamish First Nations welcome us

I sang along with Oh Canada and then rolled out with some of the best riders in the country, including race winners Catharine Pendrel, and Max Plaxton. It was quite a feeling leading out a mass start of 1,000 riders. The buzz of 2,000 tires on the pavement was the coolest sound in the world. The course took us through town and up into the highlands before dropping into the first off-road sections. It was a full on road-race til then. All of a sudden I was calling on pack skills I'd put on the back burner for a couple seasons. In a regular mountain bike race, it's all about the hole-shot, which is usually just a couple hundred metres up the course -- so the start is usually very fast as everyone clambers to get in first. But in this race, we were on the roads for over ten minutes so it started like a road race -- slow, with everyone eyeing each other and doing their best to hold lines through high speed corners and yes, even drafting! It was like worlds colliding, and luckily I avoided any real-life collisions.

I expected the race to take me about 3.5 hours but I had no idea how to pace it since I hadn't even seen a quarter of the course. Throughout the race I oscillated between feeling really good and really bad and it was hard to get a consistent effort. I knew there was 1,200 m of climbing, but what does that really mean? Are they steep? Technical? Long? Turns out BC climbs aren't like Ontario climbs. They aren't even like Quebec climbs. At least you can see the tops at those venues. The climbing I endured was endless, and it didn't feel like we were getting good returns on our vertical investments because any time the course pointed down, it was almost more of an effort: the descents were strewn with drops, rocks, loose corners and roots that rival most logs in Ontario. Not to mention other racers. Every time I got to the bottom of a hill it felt like I'd been beaten with a stick, and run over by the field. And then of course it was time to grind up another pitch.

Course map: available at all local grocery stores

Climbing was a big part of this course, and the crowning effort was what almost did me in: the 9 mile climb. The 9 mile starts the second half of the course. I hadn't seen it in preride, so I didn't know what to expect at all. We passed through a particularly raucus feed zone (honestly, spectating the Test of Metal might be the better idea!!) and I figured it must be about half way. We were slowly mounting a gravel logging road. If I was at the bottom of a 9-mile climb, that's something I'd want to know about, so I asked the man riding next to me, "hey, do you know where the 9 mile is?" and he said "oh yeah, it kind of sneaks up on you. It's coming up soon." Taking that to mean that this was in fact NOT the 9 mile, I gave it some gas expecting to see the top around the next corner. Or maybe the next one. Or maybe the one after that ... ? The climb just kept going, and going, and going. And it was getting steeper, and I'd run out of gears a long time ago.

Finally, I asked another rider, "hey ... is this the 9 mile?" "Yeah!" he says between gasps. So it's possible the guy I asked first was the only jerk in mountain biking, or else he just genuinely didn't realize and we both got a surprise. I changed my strategy and settled in. Awhile later, the ground levelled at last and there was a feed zone with watermelon, gatorade and cheering spectators. I was so happy to have made it I said out loud, "thank god that's over." My neighbour cheerily informed me, "oh no, that's just the first plateau. There are three! Next section is a little steeper." He might as well have pushed me off my bike and stepped on my head. I was heart broken. I slurped down my ride-by watermelon and steeled myself for more. And up and up we went! Another few minutes and we passed a sign that said 6 and a quarter. Only a few more miles up. The 9 mile made me really stare down my doubts. I dug deep and stayed up. A dude in front of me keeled over, dusted himself off, got back on and kept going. I thought, if he can do it, for sure I can do it. And what awaited us for a reward when we got to the top? Another climb! Hurray!

And so it went. And went and went.

Next time, I'll know a lot more about what to expect. Pacing will be easier. I'll know where the bottlenecks happen. And I'll know it can be done -- a fact I wasn't so sure of come hour three on Saturday.

I passed The Test!

When I finished, I indulged my newly spurred cravings for watermelon until I'd eaten I think almost an entire one to myself. (The amazing volunteers just kept cutting up fruit plates for the racers coming in and they didn't mind if you had seconds ... thirds ... eighths ...) I toured the finish area and then took my tired and battered body home to Brackendale.

I think all that racing and being jostled on the race course knocked a screw loose in my head because I somehow decided it would be a good idea to go out for a ride with friends that afternoon, a mere 2.5 hours after I crossed the finish line. I showered off the Test of Metal so I'd be clean-ish to start my next ordeal. I even donned a double chamois; the Test of Metal awarded me my very first saddle sore!

A familiar lookout!

Priscilla, Crispin, Axl and I put in another three hours revisiting Recyle and checking out Pseudotsuga too. It was amazing. The trails out there are just phenomenal, no matter what kind of riding you do. And even though they were fairly new to the sport, Crispin and Priscilla were straight up killing it. It was impressive stuff. And they didn't even get mad at me when I got us lost on an uphill detour!

Crispin, Priscilla and Axl

So with that, I'd had my fill. That was easily the heaviest day of mountain bike riding I have ever done. I limped back to Brackendale, feebly tried to pack up and eat and then it was off to Toronto. I got onto an earlier flight which was a blessing, and passed out almost immediately. G met me at the airport and took me home to sleep in my own bed. When I close my eyes three days later, it still feels like I'm riding the sweet Squamish single track.

To close, I just want to send another huge thanks to Matt and Larissa for getting me to Squampton. I also want to thank Matt B for all his hospitality and great conversation. Thanks to Priscilla and Crispin for being such stoked riding buddies. Thanks to Nancy for the Sun Dance, and thanks in advance for my eagerly-anticipated post-race massage. I also want to thank G for being such a big help getting me to and from the airport and of course for fielding freak-outs over race jitters and pedal-removal troubles. Thanks to all the volunteers and organizers for putting on such an epic event. Thanks to Tantalus and Republic Bike shops in Squamish for your help with tune ups and last minute equipment needs! Thanks to WestJet and my aunt Mindy for safe flights! And of course, as always, thanks to Sweet Pete's for all your help on this race and every race.

Test of Metal

I can't remember the last time I was this sore after a bike race. I'll be sure to post the whole story as soon as I can, but for now I just wanted to say it was a hell of a ride.

My time was just a few minutes over my race goal -- not bad since pacing was definitely a challenge.

The weather held, and only rained a little bit while I was struggling up the "9 mile" (praise Jesus!) so conditions were perfect. In fact, Max Plaxton was able to set a new course record.

The women's winner was Kamloops' Catharine Pendrel (of Olympic fame) with a time of 2 hours and 50 minutes. An honour to line up with the likes of Catharine!

The race was 67km, with 35km single track and 1,200m of climbing.

As for results, I was the 307th person across the line and 958 people finished. I was the 19th female, and 144 raced.

Stay tuned for the whole story (as soon as I can get my hands to work again ...)

Kristen's Adventures in Wonderland

The clock ticked the seconds by slower than usual this past Thursday. It's always that way when you've got somewhere awesome to be. My expectations then fell far short of the paradise awaiting me on the left coast this time.

One last blast out west for winter/spring 09 took me to Squamish -- but I left the skis behind and packed up the new bike to test its mettle offroad instead. At the aiport, it was still clearly ski season -- at least judging by all the families lugging boot bags and ski sacks around -- and I was starting to wonder if I was pushing mother nature. Especially considering the Squamish weather report forecasted rain/snow mix and higher temperatures in Toronto.

The journey was blessedly uneventful. That's how I like my flights. We arrived without any delays and I had a smooth connection to the Whistler bus. I'd recommend it as a means to the goods if you're wondering how to get around from YVR. You can book through Perimeter Reservations and it was $70 round trip from Vancouver to Squamish. Turns out you can't leave Vancouver airport for less than that. Cabs downtown are about $70 bucks too. Rental cars even have a bonus $70 "location surcharge" there. So I was happy about the bus, for once.

After grabbing a sub to curb my angry appetite, I met a nice man who didn't seem to mind that I was chatting his head off. We shared a laugh at the ridiculous cash grab that follows cyclists around. "What's in the box? A massage table?" asked the bus reservations clerk. "A massage table would be nice about now," I answered, thinking seriously about a massage after lugging the thing around the airport. He didn't ask any follow up questions because he had to take a phone call. I was just about to get away with my luggage tag when he asked again. "It's a bike," I say quietly. He put the usual apologetic face on and informed me it would be an extra fee. "What if it was a massage table?" I asked. "It's just our policy" he replied, but what he was really saying was, "next time, just say it is a massage table."

Anyway, once on the bus, the full impact of my stoke combined with the winding roads to make me feel pretty carsick. Thank goodness what's-his-name let me yack away or else I might have had to throw up from the excitement.

I was the only one to get off in Squamish and spent an agonizing twenty minutes in the dark at the Adventure Centre waiting for the cab ... or wolves to drag me into the forest. Finally he arrived and I got paid-back for my chattiness earlier as he yabbered on about where the cops hide and stories of drunk drivers. Next thing I know, we're in a road block and the RCMP officer is asking for his license and wouldn't you know it? It's nowhere to be found. So close and yet so far!! Once we got that out of the way, I arrived at last to Cottonwood Road and the welcoming arms of my charming and handsome host for the weekend. Plus he had a cheese-board so I couldn't have been happier.


View Larger Map

With the bike built, it was time for bed. I knew that even with the late hour the jet lag and my own ridiculous excitement would have me up plenty early. What I didn't expect was sun in my eyes! Practically frantic with excitement, I loaded up my camelback and set out. It wasn't long before I met another couple dudes out for a sunny ride. They were headed the opposite way on the trail I was on ... Wonderland. How appropriate. They stopped to say hello and asked, "hey, are you that racer from Ontario?" Wow, famous already! Turns out the bike shop where I'd stopped, Republic, is run by a super nice guy who knows a bunch of the same people I know, including Sweet Pete. MTB is such a small world. He helped me get sorted out and gave some fabulous directions. Anyway, he told them I'd been in the shop that morning. I stood out on day-one anyway. For some reason I decided to geek-out in our new kits which I think are pretty dope, but also very ... lycra. And heckleable if you're just out for a trail ride. Still, I wanted to feel racy so I dressed the part.

Next thing I know, I'm in a peleton anyway. I was the 18th rider to join a Good-Friday group ride which became "The Blob". By the end, we were just a couple short of 30 riders. They treated me to quite an adventure. It was my first day really riding offroad, and my first day in BC and I swear it was the gnarliest trail I have ever seen -- including the time I went downhilling at Mont Ste Anne. And so the "girl from Ontario" continued to make a name for herself as she cheerily hiked-a-bike over drops and crags she'd think twice about on foot, let alone with only four inches in the front. It was fantastic!! We ripped around Alice Lake for four hours in a combo of freeride, XC and straight up DH trails including Jack's Trail, Marc My Words, and others whose names I can't remember.

Here are some shots from sunny day one (click the image to make it bigger):

"Hey, are you that racer from Ontario?"

Re-blobbing after a big climb

Tea-party!

The second day of riding ended up being -- no word of a lie -- the best ride of my life. I was discouraged because it was wet and grey out when I woke up. More along the lines of what the forecaster predicted. But with Matt and Joe on their way in from Vancouver, it was do or die. I knew Joe was coming, but I'd never met him before -- or so I thought. Turns out he was on the ride with the Blob the day before as well. See? Small world. We hopped into the Kona van and visited Tantalus bike shop to get advice on where to go. Then we headed up to Garibaldi Highlands behind Quest University for the goods. We climbed a logging road for an hour and 15 minutes ... even past the snow line ... before we ducked into Recycle. Along the way, the road narrowed into double track and pink ribbons began appearing with BC Bike Race marked. My heart was all aflutter.

Recycle ended up being some of the flowiest, whoop-worthy single track I've ever rode. It was perfect pitch for an XC bike and even though it was wet, it was tacky as hell. I could have done that all day. The three of us were hollering all the way and grinning like idiots. Best of all, as I got to know the limits of my bike, I found that she just kept on surprising me. I think this is definitely the start of a beautiful friendship. It hung onto the tightest switchbacks, descended like a champ without making me feel like I was on my way ass over tea kettle. The suspension did indeed stay active even as I grabbed fistfuls of back brake to get around the next glorious corner.

And so it went all the way back down into Squamish. Along the way, we visited a famed pump track just emerging from the forest floor. We ran into some guys out with chainsaws working on trail features and clearing. Obviously the builders in the area take a lot of pride in their work. Which I would like to take this opportunity to comment on. Everyone I met this weekend clearly considered themselves not only riders, but members of a community. It seemed that most of the conversations around me were about where to build next, trails being cut and sharing everything from homemade energy bars to best training techniques. Maybe it's just me but in Ontario/Toronto it sometimes feels like people keep their cards close to their chest until it's time to squabble over dirt jumps, the Don Valley or dog walkers. It was great being in a such a positive setting and it's no wonder the sport is thriving in Squamish. All the trails I saw (and I saw a lot by the end of the weekend) were beautifully maintained. There was no trash to pick up and everyone smiled at each other whether on bikes, walking dogs, or hiking with their families. It's a network to be proud of.

So here are some photos from day two:




Day three was the wettest day yet and the rain looked more like what we're used to in Ontario rather than the friendly mist you get on the west coast. Nonetheless, my friends from the first day promised to meet for a 10 am ride so I got suited up and headed out half expecting to ride alone. To my surprise, I had some company afterall! Mikhail (I think that was his name and apologize if I missed it!) was my Easter bunny and pushed my tired legs through precisely the workout I had hoped for. Tight, twisty singletrack with a few long falseflat efforts. Everything was emerald green from the moisture and the air was sweet and fresh, cooling my lungs with every breath. Although we didn't stay out long I was satisfied. We found ourselves back on Wonderland. Close by return!

So a huge thank you to everyone who helped me find my way this weekend. It was unforgettable and I can't wait to come back again. Test of Metal? Gearjammer? I'd even come for a twoonie race.

Ride on.

February Blahs?

It's funny that February is the shortest month of the year, because for athletes prepping for the upcoming race season, it can sure feel like the longest. For this reason, February usually ends up being the month to pack the bike into a box and head to warmer climates ... with palm trees, sun and lots of climbing if you're lucky. Changing the routine on the monotony of base-miles shakes things up and sets up the next phase of training perfectly. 

Never one for the conventional, I threw caution to the wind and instead of loading up on miles, took a refreshing jaunt across the country on a snow mission. 

While the obvious drawbacks to skipping a training camp are, well, obvious -- I'd argue that the mental benefits help make up the difference. And it's not like I lazed around the whole time. For the seven days I was away, I did what I could without a bike around (although now that I know what Squamish -- home base -- looks like in February, I won't make that mistake again!). Skiing and running kept me well maintained. With almost 80cm of fresh snow on Whistler and Blackcomb, I was rudely reminded how hard skiing can be on the ol' quadriceps. 

But the most enjoyable time I had to myself were the hours I spent running in Squamish. Coming from the -20s of Toronto, imagine my surprise to be overdressed in just a light jersey and trackies. The sun was shining when my running buddy, Timber, and I set out. At first, my view was narrowly focused on my HRM and ipod. Then my gaze widened to include blue skies, mountains, thick brush, rocks and a river. Eagles flew over my head and Timber showed me the way to the mountain bike trails. I was grinning like an idiot. 

Back at the house, I found out I can still do lot's of pushups. Next time I won't make the mistake of leaving a bike at home. 

So after a week of relaxing and some light maintenance I was a little apprehensive about returning to spin class with the RPM crew. My first night back, the rest of the class was gearing up to complete a 20 minute time trial at full power. I had completed mine before I left, but I felt so good being back on the bike, I jumped in and improved my score by almost 10 beats on my average heart rate. Not only that, I did it feeling like a million bucks. 

So while I would never knock an opportunity to hit up training camp, a week in the mountains of BC to clear my head and rest my body doesn't seem to have done any harm either. 

A morning run by the river

Blue skies

Some moss by the trail side

Timber, my new favourite training partner

Hip-deep powder for the quads

Peace