Princess for a Day - Riding the Triple Crown
If it wasn't clear before, it's abundantly clear now, I'm no ripping XC rider. No doubt about it, this particular white boy can't climb! You'd think with 12 years of riding experience I'd have come to grips with that fact. Apparently not, because somehow, in what must have been a severe moment of weakness, I signed up to do Nelson's Triple Crown event.As the name would suggest, the Triple Crown is a 3 peak event that takes riders onto 3 of Nelson's best rides all in the span of one day. As if the nearly 8000 feet of climbing and 55kms wasn't enough, I should reiterate just how technical Nelson's trails are. They're very technical, okay? No really, our beginner/intermediate trails would easily classify as black diamonds at many bike parks around the globe. Steep, rocky, root infested, affairs made even more fun with a fresh layer of fallen leaves and dew. Oh yeah, this was going to be fun.
It was while pushing up a scenic ridge line on Burn and Beyond when the trouble began. I reasoned if I could push up to 7100 feet on the Burn, I could certainly finish the Triple Crown, right? My partners in crime were to be Pat Williams, Travis Hauck, Derek Chambers and Alex Voykin. Each and every one of them a far stronger climber than I, but all promising this wasn't a race, it was a social event - Nelson style!!!
The night before the "race" I packed my bag full of food, tools, spare parts and water. It must have weighed in well over 20lbs, but there was no way in hell I wasn't going to finish due to lack of supplies. Lack of fitness or stick-to-it-ofness Considering we would be stopping back through town between each peak of the 'crown, it now seems so obvious I could have left at least 10 pounds of the gear at a convenient way point, say the Mount Station parking lot. Maybe I'll remember next year. Oh yeah, you read that right, I'll be back, read on to see why...
Before we even began, we lost one of the posse. On Saturday, the day before the Triple Crown, Alex bailed hard on a 5 foot drop on Placenta Descenta and wound up with 11 stitches in his knee. That left me, Pat, Derek and Travis to go it with the rest of the Triple Crown's (very fit) group of 40 participants.
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After a restless sleep, 6:30 am comes very early, trust me, it does. Wanting to maximize sleep. I barely gave myself 25 minutes to brew a pot of Oso Negro, eat, grab my "stuffed to the gunwales" pack, give the bike one last check and get my sorry, already (or is that perpetually?) tired ass to NRG headquarters - all of 3 blocks uphill from the house. Needless to say I rolled into the start zone just under 10 minutes late (Hey we're on Kootenay time here!!!), a sizeable portion of the riders already on course, climbing their way to Highballer, a full 3000 feet above our current location.
Pat was already there, riding his 50lb Banshee Scream, hungover complaining of a 3am bedtime and lack of sleep. Excellent, perhaps there's sat least one person I can keep up with. Not really, but it was a nice thought while it lasted. Derek rolled in next aboard his Evilution hardtail and advised Travis would be a while staging his van (and spare water/food/parts/tools) at the (aforementioned) Mount Station parking lot. That's okay, while we waited, we took the time to weigh in for the heaviest bike of the day. The scale was way on the light side and my KeeWee came in at a scant 36lbs, while Pat's Banshee was all of 38lbs according to the scale. Heaviest bike of the day was a VPS One/Monster T combo that weighed in at 42lbs on their "way-light" scale. Started any epic rides on a bike weighing over 40lbs recently? I didn't think so!
During our wait for Travis, we picked up Alex' substitute, "Bad Alice French", of Arthur Funkarelli. So at 7:45 Travis rolls in, signs in, weighs in and off we go. By the time we'd reached Selkirk College, I was suffering, well off the back of our group of miscreants. Great, 10 minutes into a 10 hour ride and I'm already suffering, this should be fun.
There's nothing quite like hitting an epic ride with a bunch of freeriders. Our climb was frequently (and thankfully) interrupted by various saddle adjustments, (numb nuts and chaffed cheeks suck) headset and derailleur tuning, safety "discussions" or simply to wait for any and all stragglers - namely me! One hour into the climb, we met up with some of the NRG crew, who'd taken the steep route to Give Out Creek road. Not only did these good folks put this thing together, they were doing a great portion of the work and still riding. And kicking my ass in the process. We continued up the climb, the next 8 kilometers an easy fire road climb. I soldiered on, knees and lungs burning while simultaneously trying to engage any and all those around me in conversation in an effort to slow their pace to more closely match mine. For a time it worked.
Around the beginning of the last kilometer of climb, the downhill transitions from Highballer to Placenta Descenta. While climbing by, I was witness to at least 4 riders already descending and there were probably 20 more already in front of them. The last pitch up is a semi-steep rocky doubletrack and it was here the group again lost me. By the time I clambored across the apex, they were stamped, fed and ready to descend. I hurriedly inhaled my pear and gulped some water back while making a slow walk to the "stamping stump", the first uphill checkstop on our adventure. It was at this point I began to question whether or not I'd be able to finish the whole Triple. Shit, by now I began to wonder whether or not I'd even make it back to town. Just over 2 hours into this and I was dying while everyone else looked ready to roll!
![photo]()
I don't know why I'd decided to change over to clipless pedals and brand new, unused pair of shoes the night before the race. Well, that's not entirely true, I was tryin to get the most efficient platform possible, but why would I think stiff, non-broken in, untested shoes and clips would be good when I'd be riding all day on technical trails? Beats me! Needless to say, I couldn't clip out with any form or consistency and the whole way up my feet switched from feeling ice cold, hot and burning or simply not feeling at all.
Readying for the descent, I dropped the saddle slightly, adjusted my pads (I had been wearing them on the climb up to keep my knees warm) and started up the short climb to begin the fun... and promptly fell over into the alders, unable to clip out, get up, or untangle myself from the bike. Adding further insult to injury was when the teenage girl behind me asked if I needed help. Oh yeah, there was no way I'd be finishing the ride.
Then I started the descent, cleaning most of Highballer's "optional" skinnies, even clipped in. That's another cool thing about this event and the crew I was lucky enough to ride with. We all continued to play on our bikes, even when suffering. Till I found the off camber, leaf covered roots of Wake and Bake. It was here that NRG employee and recent 1th place TransRockies finisher Mike Seniuk followed me downhill, laughing all the way. When I'm tired I don't ride well. In new shoes and clips, I don't ride well. I couldn't stay on the friggin trail, and when I could it was usually laying on my side clipped in. When I prodded him to just pass me he replied, "no way, this is too much fun!" Fifty minutes after stamping at the top of Highballer, I was adding the lower Pulmonary stamp, devoid of motivation, fervently questioning my decision to do this.
![photo]()
That's all for now, I wouldn't want to take up your whole morning at work. Check back on Friday to see if my sorry, out of shape ass actually made it back to NRG HQ...
It was while pushing up a scenic ridge line on Burn and Beyond when the trouble began. I reasoned if I could push up to 7100 feet on the Burn, I could certainly finish the Triple Crown, right? My partners in crime were to be Pat Williams, Travis Hauck, Derek Chambers and Alex Voykin. Each and every one of them a far stronger climber than I, but all promising this wasn't a race, it was a social event - Nelson style!!!
The night before the "race" I packed my bag full of food, tools, spare parts and water. It must have weighed in well over 20lbs, but there was no way in hell I wasn't going to finish due to lack of supplies. Lack of fitness or stick-to-it-ofness Considering we would be stopping back through town between each peak of the 'crown, it now seems so obvious I could have left at least 10 pounds of the gear at a convenient way point, say the Mount Station parking lot. Maybe I'll remember next year. Oh yeah, you read that right, I'll be back, read on to see why...
Before we even began, we lost one of the posse. On Saturday, the day before the Triple Crown, Alex bailed hard on a 5 foot drop on Placenta Descenta and wound up with 11 stitches in his knee. That left me, Pat, Derek and Travis to go it with the rest of the Triple Crown's (very fit) group of 40 participants.
After a restless sleep, 6:30 am comes very early, trust me, it does. Wanting to maximize sleep. I barely gave myself 25 minutes to brew a pot of Oso Negro, eat, grab my "stuffed to the gunwales" pack, give the bike one last check and get my sorry, already (or is that perpetually?) tired ass to NRG headquarters - all of 3 blocks uphill from the house. Needless to say I rolled into the start zone just under 10 minutes late (Hey we're on Kootenay time here!!!), a sizeable portion of the riders already on course, climbing their way to Highballer, a full 3000 feet above our current location.
Pat was already there, riding his 50lb Banshee Scream, hungover complaining of a 3am bedtime and lack of sleep. Excellent, perhaps there's sat least one person I can keep up with. Not really, but it was a nice thought while it lasted. Derek rolled in next aboard his Evilution hardtail and advised Travis would be a while staging his van (and spare water/food/parts/tools) at the (aforementioned) Mount Station parking lot. That's okay, while we waited, we took the time to weigh in for the heaviest bike of the day. The scale was way on the light side and my KeeWee came in at a scant 36lbs, while Pat's Banshee was all of 38lbs according to the scale. Heaviest bike of the day was a VPS One/Monster T combo that weighed in at 42lbs on their "way-light" scale. Started any epic rides on a bike weighing over 40lbs recently? I didn't think so!
During our wait for Travis, we picked up Alex' substitute, "Bad Alice French", of Arthur Funkarelli. So at 7:45 Travis rolls in, signs in, weighs in and off we go. By the time we'd reached Selkirk College, I was suffering, well off the back of our group of miscreants. Great, 10 minutes into a 10 hour ride and I'm already suffering, this should be fun.
There's nothing quite like hitting an epic ride with a bunch of freeriders. Our climb was frequently (and thankfully) interrupted by various saddle adjustments, (numb nuts and chaffed cheeks suck) headset and derailleur tuning, safety "discussions" or simply to wait for any and all stragglers - namely me! One hour into the climb, we met up with some of the NRG crew, who'd taken the steep route to Give Out Creek road. Not only did these good folks put this thing together, they were doing a great portion of the work and still riding. And kicking my ass in the process. We continued up the climb, the next 8 kilometers an easy fire road climb. I soldiered on, knees and lungs burning while simultaneously trying to engage any and all those around me in conversation in an effort to slow their pace to more closely match mine. For a time it worked.
Around the beginning of the last kilometer of climb, the downhill transitions from Highballer to Placenta Descenta. While climbing by, I was witness to at least 4 riders already descending and there were probably 20 more already in front of them. The last pitch up is a semi-steep rocky doubletrack and it was here the group again lost me. By the time I clambored across the apex, they were stamped, fed and ready to descend. I hurriedly inhaled my pear and gulped some water back while making a slow walk to the "stamping stump", the first uphill checkstop on our adventure. It was at this point I began to question whether or not I'd be able to finish the whole Triple. Shit, by now I began to wonder whether or not I'd even make it back to town. Just over 2 hours into this and I was dying while everyone else looked ready to roll!
I don't know why I'd decided to change over to clipless pedals and brand new, unused pair of shoes the night before the race. Well, that's not entirely true, I was tryin to get the most efficient platform possible, but why would I think stiff, non-broken in, untested shoes and clips would be good when I'd be riding all day on technical trails? Beats me! Needless to say, I couldn't clip out with any form or consistency and the whole way up my feet switched from feeling ice cold, hot and burning or simply not feeling at all.
Readying for the descent, I dropped the saddle slightly, adjusted my pads (I had been wearing them on the climb up to keep my knees warm) and started up the short climb to begin the fun... and promptly fell over into the alders, unable to clip out, get up, or untangle myself from the bike. Adding further insult to injury was when the teenage girl behind me asked if I needed help. Oh yeah, there was no way I'd be finishing the ride.
Then I started the descent, cleaning most of Highballer's "optional" skinnies, even clipped in. That's another cool thing about this event and the crew I was lucky enough to ride with. We all continued to play on our bikes, even when suffering. Till I found the off camber, leaf covered roots of Wake and Bake. It was here that NRG employee and recent 1th place TransRockies finisher Mike Seniuk followed me downhill, laughing all the way. When I'm tired I don't ride well. In new shoes and clips, I don't ride well. I couldn't stay on the friggin trail, and when I could it was usually laying on my side clipped in. When I prodded him to just pass me he replied, "no way, this is too much fun!" Fifty minutes after stamping at the top of Highballer, I was adding the lower Pulmonary stamp, devoid of motivation, fervently questioning my decision to do this.
That's all for now, I wouldn't want to take up your whole morning at work. Check back on Friday to see if my sorry, out of shape ass actually made it back to NRG HQ...
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Chilliwack, BC, Canada
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