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NORBA Series #3, Snowshoe, West Virginia
Friday, June 21, 2002. ETD: 9:00 AM. ETA: 1:00 PM
Downtown Pittsburgh. Friday morning, 10:23
Still looking for the place to pick up the flyers for the Laurel Mountain Bike Festival.
Staring at downtown Pittsburgh from the Liberty Bridge. Friday morning, 10:57
Flyers in hand, I’m now trying to track down exactly where photo intern Kyle lives. Too many detours to comprehend, and I’m headed back into the city, away from Kyle’s house. Gotta remember the self-prescribed greeting on my phone… “RELAX”
Mt. Washington, Pittsburgh. Friday morning, 11:23
I’m headed up the mountain on the wrong street. At least that’s what I think Kyle says, just as my phone cuts out. Damn cell phones. Wait. I hate seeing those towers everywhere. Damn me.
Kyle’s house, Mt. Washington, Pittsburgh, 11:46
Finally arrive at Kyle’s place. Pack the truck, grab the groceries, pick up some cash, and dash for the event.
The signs say “Wild and Wonderful West Virginia.” By the time I read the sign, I try not to think about how much more “Wild” my ride can be. Think I’ll just focus on the “Wonderful” part. Not too hard to do when you’ve got a weekend full of racing, riding and meeting up with subscribers. What I don’t plan on is all the wildness that’s to come.
By the time we arrive at Snowshoe Mountain, the announcers are screaming, “And out of the last corner, there’s Brown, he’s got the lead! And this one’s gonna come down to a sprint! And it’s Brown, Travis Brown in the finish!” So, I’m assuming that Travis Brown, a rider for the Trek VW team, won the Men Pro XC. I assume this until Sunday morning, when I spout off my unending knowledge to a group of people at the DRHQ booth. I quickly get a “No dude! Hesjedal won it!” Remember, when you assume you make an “ass” out of “u” and “me.” Got it. But the point is that the announcers are loud, and most of the time you can’t even tell what they’re babbling on about. ‘Cept for that cool new guy announcer Trucker. He seems to know what’s going on.
Anyway, by the time we arrive on Friday, it’s late. Too late to unpack. Too late to do much of anything except for find out where our booth is, which is made even more difficult when Drew, the guy you need to find can only be recognized as “the only guy on a Jamis cruiser wearing sandals.” Sure. Got it. He’ll be easier to find tomorrow morning.
In the meantime, the Elk River Touring Center has a trampoline in their yard with my name written all over it. Kyle and I set up the tent for emergency shelter and head back down to the lodge.
Now here’s where it gets weird. Maybe it’s just me, I mean, I’ve been reading Dirt Rag much longer than I’ve worked here. Faithfully read nearly every article, every interview, every bike review. So I think it’s just cool when you get to meet people you’ve read about before. When I’m sitting at the dinner table, I look across the table to see Moe sitting next to Gil Willis, the original Fat Tire guy from WV and Steve Boehmke from Giant Bicycles, which gives me one of those feelings like, wow! these are the guys who have helped make mountain biking what it is today. But then I look across the room to see Alison Dunlap, who’s part of the Luna Chix team that’s been stomping the competition this year sitting at another table, and I get the feeling all over again. But then I turn my head around to see Jimena Florit from the Polo/RLX team who just happened to beat Alison during that day’s race. What next? Is Brian Lopes gonna come in for apple pie?
As dinner winds down, the racers head home. I stop feeling weird, and I retire to the pleasures of suspended sleeping. Better than Michael Jackson’s method, I can feel myself getting younger.
Saturday: ETA: 8:00 AM
Moe comes to wake us up at 7:45 for some breakfast down at the ERTC lodge. Mary brings us fresh eggs and bacon and we’re ready to hit it. We’re off our mark by a few minutes, but keeping to the schedule seems easier once we’re actually in West Virginia.
By the time we get the booth set up, we’re already handing out more Kenda tires than people can handle. The New Sun stuff is a hit with riders and non-riders alike, and subscriptions are selling like mad. A guy whose name I can’t remember comes up and talks to me about my maté article in DR # 91. He’s been drinking the stuff for years, using it to get jazzed for riding. Here’s to the good herb!
And speaking of getting jazzed, the vibe all over the mountain was about downhill. Dirt jumping, mountain cross, slalom… it all seems hotter than ever. After lunch, I get a chance to sit down with some racers from the East Coast involved in the Chain Reaction Video Series and talk about what it takes to get into riding that kind of stuff. These guys are into downhill and mountain cross, and it’s cool to see the tight bonds they’ve formed as competitors and friends. I’m just glad they talked me out of taking a run on the pro course like I had planned. I might have ended up like Chain Reaction producer Don Hampton, who was Medivac’d to a hospital after EMTs thought he broke his spine. That makes at least three people I heard about who needed the helicopter lift this weekend.
In local notes of downhill, local racer Pete Weir placed fifth in the semi-pro downhill, and local hucker Ryan placed fifteenth in the expert. Way to go guys!
Saturday winds down slowly, but not before Steve Boehmke hands over a Giant DH Comp 02 downhill bike for me to test out. First time I’ve run something like this before, and I gotta say, this type of riding is fun! For years, I swore the stuff off, convinced that the life of shuttle-running and lift tickets was for the snow season. But oh man, there’s something nice about feeling the burn in your quads, the rocks bouncing off your sunglasses and a good 20 mile an hour hairpin turn on a bike that’s meant to handle it. Check out Giant’s website to see the DH Comp 02.
Kyle got to ride the NRS2, while Moe picked up the DH Team bike. All bikes but the DH Team were available at Giant’s traveling demo truck. There were a bunch of other folks lending out demo bikes, such as Yeti and Litespeed. I think it’s really cool to see all these companies out there with demo bikes for everyone to ride. Even the tech support was strong… I heard from other people that Hayesand Shimano were hooking people up, and one young kid even walked by with a free pair of tires from IRC. As usual, Kenda offered screaming deals at their booth, nearly giving away downhill tires for less than $25. That’s what makes these races worth it for a lot of people. Good support, good times.
But wait! I forgot to mention Marla Streb from the Luna Chix stopped by to say hi! She grabbed a free copy of Dirt Rag and then went on to kick some tail on the DH course. Go Marla!
But wait! I forgot to mention anything about the Mountain Cross… spectator friendly, big air… but I thought there was actually supposed to be some action. No passing, barely any crashes and not a single person even touched Brian Lopes.
So back to the downhill. Moe's on the Team bike, I'm on the Comp, Kyle's on the AC Air 2 and Thanita has Kathy Burns' Santa Cruz Bullit. We meet up with local DH racer Ryan and we take a run down the course. Everyone takes a spill except for me—and we're on the sport course! Tattered and bruised at the bottom, and our ride back to the top, Boehmke, is nowhere to be seen. So we start riding these forty pound beasts back to the top in hopes of catching up with Steve. Before long, we hitch a ride with some very friendly folks with a few extra spaces in the back of their truck for 3 bikes and 3 people. Thanks for the lift guys! The unlucky ones, Kyle and Thanita, who have the lightest bikes, start riding back.
Before long, we come around a corner to see Steve standing next to a Park Ranger truck with flashing lights, with his hands waving all around. We hop out of the truck and head back down a dirt road only to find Moe's big red van parked sideways on a hill, ready to hit a small sewage building. After we place two fat rangers on the back of the van, there's enough traction to peel out of there.
Back down to the bottom to find the missing two, but they've already maxed out their legs and a lift from another friendly mountain man.
Later on... pizza, beer, fireworks and a waitress who seems just a little overworked.
Skip to Sunday morning
We’re actually on time this morning. Kyle gets in one more run of the DH course and nearly kills himself as he racks it up on the staircase railing trying to avoid some eager spectators. This injury just adds to the ranks of people walking around with nearly broken limbs. Shattered kneecaps, broken collarbones, bruised foreheads, bloody legs and broken fingers… all part of the DH action.
Expert XC racing in the morning, plus downhill practice runs create some traffic to the booth, but nothing like yesterday. Hot sun beating down on my already burned neck. Thanita works out an interview with Sue Haywood for her doctorate thesis. Nothing too cool is happening, cause I’m at the booth and the action is at the downhill. Two hours before the race starts, I grab another run in on the DH bike, and on my way up, I see where everyone is… finding the perfect angle for photos. Sometimes I wonder if non-professional photographers ever get sick of living for the photo instead of just living for life.
This is getting too long.
DH is over. Seriously sick course times. Experts were running a 5:15 while the pros are running a 4:02. Wow.
And to the Aussie guy that was street surfing down Snowshoe drive with a beer in his hand, carving turns in front of three cars, right on!
Back to Elk River. More bike folk, more good conversation. Keg gets tapped and Steve and Kyle convince me to stay for dinner. That’s not a hard thing to do with the menu at this place.
The four hour drive home puts us in at 4:00 AM. Damn. Wild and Wonderful. Let’s do it again next weekend.
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