Whistler Brings an Early Thanksgiving

I have a lot to be thankful for: a season of riding almost injury-free; another year’s progression; some key new riding friends. And like the original settlers of Canada, people that we will soon honour with Thanksgiving Day, I’m thankful to have seen new lands – in this case, another B.C. mountain biking paradise, the Whistler Mountain Bike Park.Sitting back in my apartment, writing this story and taking stock of the past two weeks of my life, the voyage seems almost surreal. I learned just over two weeks ago that I had been picked by Pinkbike.com as winner of the Pinkbike/Ticket to Ride B.C. writing contest, and would be going to Whistler for my prize. Now over 4000kms of driving and four sweet days of riding later, it’s all over. Journalism School at the University of Regina, with its never-ending series of assignments and deadlines, is once again my reality.

I’m thankful for the trip, and for the fact that I have three friends with enough freedom in their lives to drop everything and join me on a nine-day mountain bike adventure two provinces over. There was my girlfriend Stephanie, Roy “Bender” Toews, my riding friend who will huck himself off just about anything on his Bullitt, and his girlfriend Aryn.

The fact that they decided to join me at all speaks about their love of travel and in Roy’s case (like mine) his desire to ride the bike park. The entire week leading up to our trip was chaotic. I was frantically trying to tie up loose ends in Regina and contact Mike at Pinkbike and Scott at Ticket 2 Ride B.C. Chalet. Given the Mountain Bikers’ natural nomadic nature, reaching Mike and Scott proved difficult, and all our crew of travelers had to go by was a return email from Scott saying the dates I requested “should” be ok.

I left messages for both and we set off on our journey early in the morning on Sunday Sept. 19th. Like a rider taking a big drop for the first time, we didn’t know exactly what to expect when we landed. But we expected the best and were rewarded when Scott called us on the cell somewhere in between Edmonton and Jasper.

I’m thankful for the opportunity to sample the sweet terrain and to ride trails I had only read about or seen in movies. Whistler is larger than life. Because of a communication glitch we couldn’t hit the hills until Tuesday. Instead of moping around, Roy and I rode into Whistler Village and watched rider after rider hit the “Boneyard.” Now, I’d seen terrain parks and 4-cross tracks before but nothing quite like the Boneyard. From the bottom it looked steep and HUGE. There were big tabletops, jumps galore, the step up boxes and of course the famous wall ride. Just standing there watching others ride it was good entertainment. The name proved apt as well because before the week was out I saw some huge bails, and ambulances visited the Boneyard on more than one occasion.


When we got to taste the terrain ourselves, it didn’t disappoint. The highlights of the first two soggy days would definitely have to be riding the mountain bike superhighway “A-Line” for the first time, hitting the “National Downhill Course,” riding “Dirt Merchant” and riding down “Schleyer” with no chain.

Riding A-Line was a priority. Like everyone I’d heard about the trail for the past couple of years and it didn’t disappoint. For wide-open speed nothing can compare. After every charge down the trail my body would ache with lactic acid buildup in my legs and my hands seemed welded to the bars, there are really no good words to describe the pain I felt. The National Downhill Course was another super high-speed trail only with more rock and some pretty tight, techy sections. Dirt Merchant was reminiscent of A-Line but a bit more technical and Schleyer just ate me up as I rode it chainless because of a malfunction.

As one would expect from a trail named after a top pro, Schleyer is full of drops, technical sections and a few wooden structures. Without any push from the rear I was nervous of the drops and tight, technical sections. Schleyer ate me up. I ended up walking the larger drops and surviving the techy sections.

The riding was intense and more than a bit challenging. Roy pretty much summed up the feeling of the first two days. Chatting while being carried up in the gondola, he said, “This place is as good as everyone says it is.” I couldn’t have agreed more.

On Thursday the rain stopped and the skies cleared. Roy and I joined Scott, our host at Ticket to Ride, and Mark, a Brit staying at the chalet. Immediately Scott suggested the Garbanzo Chairlift. Garbanzo is this year’s addition to the mountain bike park. It drops its passengers off almost five-and-a-half thousand feet up. I couldn’t say no.

Because of the wet earlier in the week, neither Roy nor I had yet been up Garbanzo. As we were carried up into the clouds, I looked back and got a spectacular view of Whistler from way, way up. Big-mountain riding like the type at the top of Garbanzo makes me nervous, and I wanted the ride to start right away.

We got to the top and started riding down “No Joke.” I had never experienced anything like riding in the clouds before. I was really stoked to ride the rooty, super gnarly terrain dotted with huge puddles that almost had a current of their own. At the trailhead of “Duffman” we ran into some friends of Scott’s who were pretty sick riders. Keith, from Scotland, was a Banshee Bikes testpilot. As well as working in their engineering department he also rode the hell out of his Banshee Scream. Andy and Travis also brought some serious skills with them as well.

Riding with talented riders always brings out the best in me and it was no different this day, I felt great. Together we all rode down Duffman and hit a lot of the more difficult terrain on the mountain. With our Whistler-savvy leaders, Roy and I rode more sick Whistler terrain, the highlight of which was a huge natural wallride on the trail.

Even though I was riding well and enjoying the company, the mountain found a way to show me who was boss. With the others in the lead we headed down “Joyride,” a trail featuring lots of big, steep rockfaces. As we rode up to the longest rockface on Joyride, a 30’ slab right at the top, I picked my line, got my weight back, and prepared to descend…Quickly, without wanting to I tapped my rear brake lever. I hesitated and my rhythm was gone. I had to back down, it just didn’t feel right. I felt a bit defeated, but Scott put it in perspective, saying, “It’ll still be there tomorrow.”

Despite not cleaning Joyride I had another great day, probably my best of the trip. I got to see a lot more new terrain and I was riding with a good group of guys. Over beers after the ride Roy and I planned our Final day of riding in Whistler and I decided before we went home I had to exorcise my demons.

Friday started off with another run down Joyride. This time I rode the big rock face that got me the day earlier. We took another run down Garbanzo, riding “Original Sin” to “In Deep.” The trails were wet and definitely pushed the limits of us prairie boys. On one really rooty drop section, Scott pointed out a stretcher that was kept off to the side, I guess a lot of people push their limits high up on the mountain. We survived.


The last trail I needed to ride was Schleyer. It had gotten me earlier in the week but I was back. This time I rode it all, hitting the drops and riding the techy sections with a bit more grace. My week of riding Whistler had been a total success.

Even thought the riding was over, the fun was not. Saturday was a day of sun and beers, checking out the “Harvest Huckfest” amateur freeride competition. The young guys really put on a show and aired out some huge style for all to see. I’m still not convinced the little ripper who finished second in the grom category shouldn’t have been the overall winner, but that’s another story.

I’m thankful for my time in Whistler. I guess it’s just good to know that places like it exist. Places where the mountain bike is king. Where riders from all over can come, meet good, like-minded souls, and ride.

Whistler offers escape for every rider. There is really no limit to what can be done on a bike there; it truly is larger than life.