Issue 9 - Oct/Nov 2015

No 9 | October/November 2015

Be Prepared to Be Unprepared | A Necessary Evil | Breaking Tradition | Radical Women: Trish Bromley Fat Bikes Aren’t Just for Boys | A Girl and Her Shoes | A Look at Mental Toughness Set a Goal, Find a Coach, Kick Some Ass

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Cover: Micayla Gatto at the Crankworx Whistler Pump Track Challenge. She finished 3rd overall.

Photo Credit: Colin Wilson

Contents

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28

38

FEATURED 6 10 16 28

Racing: Be Prepared to be Unprepared: Two Colorado Chicas Race Across Spain Reflection: A Necessary Evil Featured Story: Breaking Tradition Profile: Radical Women: Trish Bromley

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Winter Riding: Fat Bikes Aren’t Just for Boys Trail Tales: A Girl & Her Shoes

COLUMNS 4 5 24 38

Publisher’s Note Contributors Training: It’s All in Your Head: A Look at Mental Toughness Events: Set a Goal, Find a Coach, Kick Some Ass

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MOUNTAINBIKE

FORHER Publisher/editor Teresa Edgar teresa@mtb4her.com Contributing writers Paula Burton, Jaclyn Delacroix, Carmel Ecker, Teresa Edgar, Cecile Gambin, Margaret Gregory, Michelle Lambert, Betsy Welch Contributing Photographers Paula Burton, Jaclyn Delacroix, Teresa Edgar, Cecile Gambin, Margaret Gregory, Gina Hopper, Carolyn Kavanagh, Rick Lambert, Scott Robarts, Colin Wilson Account Manager Vanessa Marshak Advertise To receive a copy of our media kit, please email us: advertising@mtb4her.com Subscribe Mountain Bike for Her is available as a subscription through Magzter and PressReader. It’s also available as a stand-alone app through iTunes and Google Play for $4.99 US/year or as individual issues for $1.99 US/issue.

Find us online under MTB4Her!

Publisher’s Note

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his issue focuses on trying something new. For Betsy Welch and her friend Mimi it was pushing their limits in a multiday stage race in Spain, Paula Burton took up fat biking, and Carmel Ecker took a skills clinic to get some air time. It’s all about leaving your comfort zone!

Tammie and Mark invite us along on their bike-themed wedding, which took place in September on the legendary Seven Summits Trail in Rossland, BC. We also chatted with Trish Bromley, who is creating waves in the women’s freeride scene by being the first woman to compete in Crankworx Whistler’s Dual Speed and Style. You can find out more about her experience on page 28.

Our resident trainer Jaclyn Delacroix has us pushing boundaries of a different kind. She gives us insight into the mind/ body connection.

mtb4her.com Copyright © 2015 by MTB4Her Media Group. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part without the written consent of the publisher.

Mountain Bike for Her is published bi-monthly as a digital magazine. Views and opinions expressed are those of the author and may not represent the views of the publisher, advertisers, or sponsors.

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Teresa Edgar Publisher

Contributors

Paula Burton is an avid mountain biker and trail builder who lives in Newtown, CT. She is active with the local chapter of New England Mountain Biking Association, and travels around New England riding and teaching trail building.

She just bought a new fat bike, and when she is not riding a bike or skiing, she teaches math at Seymour High School.

Jaclyn Delacroix is a Professional Mountain Bike Coach, Internationally Certified Personal Trainer, and owner of Ozmosis Training. She is passionate about helping other people realise and achieve their goals. Jaclyn is actively involved in promoting women within the mountain biking community.

She holds skills clinics, teaches bike maintenance, and is involved in trail building and maintenance in the Lower Mainland of BC.

Carmel Ecker is a writer, graphic designer and avid mountain biker who is grateful for the year-round riding provided by southern B.C.’s temperate climate. She hopes to encourage more women to join the sport by sharing her adventures with others.

Teresa Edgar is the publisher of Mountain Bike for Her and is a gravity obsessed mountain biker from Vancouver Island, BC. She started mountain biking in the mid-1990’s and when she’s not hurtling herself down hills, you can find her hiking, backcountry skiing, kayaking, or out enjoying the scenery on her road bike.

Cecile Gambin is a freelance Action and Portrait photographer living in North Vancouver, BC. Honing her skills from riding all sorts of bikes her photographs are a fusion of Fine Art and Action to create vivid, exciting and engaging images. Her work has been featured in exhibitions, and has been published in national magazines. For more of Cécile’s work please visit www.cecilegambin.com

Margaret Gregory is a Canadian, currently living in Southern California enjoying the year round mountain biking. She is a consultant at a software company by day, and a pro enduro racer in her free time, but her true passion is the simple act of exploring new places on her bike. She loves maps, mountains, the ocean, going fast, and testing her limits.

Her weakness is chocolate chip cookies.

Michelle Lambert is a cycling obsessed resident of Southern California. She loves being outside, training, and exploring new trails.

Michelle has been racing cross-country mountain bikes off and on, and five years ago she took up cyclocross as well.

Betsy Welch writes and rides from her home in Lyons, Colorado.

She’s always scheming twowheeled adventures, and dreams of one day living in a place where surfing and singletrack are a stone’s throw from one another.

Betsy also loves harvesting food from the garden and spending hours in the kitchen, fueled by espresso or locally brewed beer.

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Racing

Be Prepared to be Unprepared:

Two Colorado Chicas Race Across Spain Words & Photos by Betsy Welch

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year ago, Mimi’s number hadn’t even made it into the “contacts” list in my phone; now we are both naked, lying side-by-side in a queen-sized bed with our battered legs elevated against the wall, wondering why in the hell these hotel rooms don’t have ceiling fans. I type, laptop resting on my belly, as we try to recall the preceding 10 hours. Then, we dip in to our mobile medicine cabinet hopeful that something will help our exhausted minds shut down so that our exhausted bodies can get some rest.

Welcome to the world of stage racing. Or rather, welcome to the TransPyr, during the hottest week on record in the Spanish Pyrenees.

As you are wont to do when committing to something months before it occurs, after Mimi and I clicked “purchase” on our TransPyr race entries one swirly snowstorm morning in January, we went skiing and promptly forgot about it. When the spring started pushing daffodil and crocus shoots through the Colorado dirt, we thought we should at least think about getting on our bikes.

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With the help of a coach and our commitment to not let training take the place of enjoying riding our bikes, we loosely scheduled 12 weeks worth of close-to-home short rides and weekend trips to the desert and high country.

An uncharacteristically wet spring dampened a few of our planned adventures—we had to hitchhike home from 12,000 feet in Rocky Mountain National Park after it started spitting snow and we couldn’t stop shivering—but our legs protested less with each longer ride.

Then there were all the logistical pieces of the puzzle, which we tackled with typical Colorado laissez faire. We bought plane tickets in May (for the June departure), I was in almostdaily communication with the race organizers in Spain, asking questions they’d just answered in their newsletters, and we still didn’t know quite what type of terrain we’d be riding (other than the fact that there were 800 kilometers of it, with 18,000 meters of accumulated climbing).

But it’s a good thing we didn’t let preparation and anxiety hijack our lives before the race

because nothing can really prepare you for what our devices. Mimi: “Oh, shit.” Me: “Oh, no.” happens after the opening gunshot sounds.

Hers was nothing but a line on the screen, no discernable detail behind it to tell us if we were Nothing can prepare you for showing up at in Catalunya or Kathmandu. Mine? Nothing. No the start line with GPS devices that don’t files. Not even the boyfriend’s recordings of past work. moto trips. This. . .could be a problem. But the gun sounded, we were at the front of the pack This is a big deal when the racecourse (ladies first, the Spanish way), so the only thing isn’t marked. When the daily distance ranges we could do was pedal. And pray that there was from 95-135 kilometers, and the route follows always someone in front of us or behind. no predictable course (pavement turns to singletrack turns to following-the-cowpath in Nothing can prepare you for the weather. a matter of minutes), you need to be able to rely on something other than your gut. Mimi Feeling confident that we had our gear had a nice new touch-screen Garmin that she’d dialled after YouTubing the race and noticing been using during our training rides to monitor that everyone was wearing jackets and vests, her heart rate and record our routes. I had an we stuck arm warmers and extra gloves into our older model not really meant for biking, but my packs the first day. boyfriend and I uploaded the GPX files the day Mimi is fair-skinned and hides in her before I left for Spain and drove to a Cabela’s basement with a bowl of ice cream during our in a strip-malled suburb of Denver to find a hottest summer months. I love the sun and handlebar mount for it. heat and have the wrinkles to prove it, but I had Giddy at the start line, we both powered on never seen sweat bead up and roll off my skin P. 9 | Mountain Bike for Her

at such an alarming rate. Gone was the thought that we would lighten the weight of our packs by carrying only a liter of water. And gracias a dios for the Spaniards who always seemed to know where there was a fountain with potable water in villages that appeared otherwise abandoned.

On the hottest day of all, even the South African thought they should have cancelled the race.

Nothing can prepare you for how your body will protest, then adapt, to the physical challenges you present it with.

The medics weren’t surprised with her symptoms; apparently we weren’t the first visitors that morning. She swallowed two small white pills, and we crawled over the start line, in step with the other struggling riders.

Mimi was sick, but I was worried sick. I didn’t think there was any way she’d have the strength to pedal the last 95 kilometers (and 2500 meters) to the sea. The climbs were—as they’d been each day—punishing, the air crackled with heat, and our pace was tortoise-like. Although she hated it, Mimi let me take her bike and walk it up some of the steeper climbs. She ate a banana when I told her that the orange that she wanted would upset her stomach. She let our Spanish friend Fran ride beside her, pushing her up the worst of the climbs. And she decided, somewhere around kilometer 40, that she wanted to finish. Despite my assurances that I didn’t care if we got those damn jerseys, that we needed to be safe and take care of her, I knew that I had to let her ride.

Nor can you prepare for the power your mind has when the body breaks down.

In the early hours of the seventh and final day of the race, I awoke to Mimi groaning in the bathroom. Oh no, I thought. This is it. She tried, bless her heart, to drink water and muster the will to eat the crumbled pieces of bread I brought up to the room from breakfast, but her body refused it all. Minutes before the starting gunshot (and minutes after she’d ducked into Nothing can prepare you for the bonds you the trees to puke), we arrived breathless at the will forge... medic tent.

“Get me something,” Mimi said. “Anything.” ...with your race partner, who hangs back with Mountain Bike for Her | P. 10

you as you whinge and drag through Day 3 (the preceding five restless, jet-lagged nights finally catching up) and who inspects your bum to make sure the saddle sores aren’t becoming septic.

With your friends and family, who loan you out to aforementioned race partner and understand that the workout plan trumps date nights and weekends away, then send virtual high fives and hell yahs across the Atlantic Ocean.

You start to recognize the people you meet on the trail by bike and by helmet colour and by their playful quips—like the only other racer who wore baggies and noticed the minute we traded ours for Lycra only (a temporary measure enacted to try and reduce chafing); and the portly South African who always wanted to talk politics and yelled “Obama” when we passed. The German girls from Bavaria—the only other nonpro females—who we leap-frogged day after day,

learning about their kids, their boyfriends, their jobs, and how fast they drove on the autobahn.

And our guardian angels Fran and Manel, the Spaniards who stayed back on the last day to make sure that Mimi was ok and that we all crossed the finish line together.

Intimacy with others arrives quickly when life seems only to consist of eating, sleeping, and pedaling for seven days straight, and it also forces you into new depths of relationship with yourself.

If you sign up for a stage race, by all means, get prepared. Ride your bike and lift weights.

Buy yourself an expensive pair of chamois. Make a detailed packing list, book the hotels months in advance, and arrive at the start line feeling capable and collected. But know that most of what will happen will be an adventure—equal parts peril and fortune—and that you shouldn’t try to have it any other way.

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Reflection

A Necessary Evil Words by Michelle Lambert

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P. 13 | Mountain Bike for Her Photo Credit: Rick Lambert

Photo Credit: Rick Lambert

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he dog days of summer are coming to an end and many of us are looking forward to the cooler weather, rainy days, and the crunch of dried leaves on the damp pavement. There is nothing like a late afternoon ride on a brisk fall day in the fresh clean air, enhanced with the slight scent of smoke from neighbourhood fireplaces to awaken your senses and make you feel rejuvenated after a long hot summer.

I always look at my calendar with anticipation as the last few days of August are thrust upon us with a hazy sweltering suppression that seems as if it will never end. When I look out at the hills above my house they loom down over me with a parched barren landscape that seems unfit for anyone or anything except for our favourite venomous reptile, the rattlesnake.

Many sweltering afternoons I will take a quick glance at the desolate dry hills where I can see one of my favourite trails winding its way up the rising hill but on one particularly beastly hot day I peeked out the window to observe a large plume of black smoke snaking up towards the sky.

California is currently under one of the worst droughts on record and with record breaking temperatures all summer long it has been an endless hot miserable season. Many experts predicted there would be massive wildfires this year; unfortunately they have been proven right.

Up and down California, there have been fires at some of the places I have ridden my mountain bike.

As I write this article, the Canyon Fire in Northern California has burned everything in its path. At least 400 homes have been destroyed

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and the fire has displaced more than 60,000 people. The counties of Lake, Sonoma, and Napa are heavily damaged and several people are reported missing.

The fire first unleashed its fury in a place called Cobb Mountain, a popular area for mountain biking. I have been there several times for the Boggs Classic cross-country mountain bike race, which has been taking place since the 1990’s.

The race is held on the beautiful forested trails around Cobb Mountain and showcases some of the finest riding in Northern California. The mostly singletrack course is quite technical and the race itself is very strenuous and includes a beastly fire road climb each lap. I have many fond memories of this race, including my proudest moment in racing: a second place in the expert cross-country category.

My husband Rick and I have camped in Boggs and we have stayed in a quaint local motel in the nearby town of Cobb, which has been reduced to rubble by the massive fire. The communities of Cobb and the nearby town of Middletown have been ravished by the fire and it is an absolute tragedy. For the mountain bikers of Northern California it is a terrible sight. However, as with any forest fire, eventually new growth will begin to spring up from under the ashes and bring green back to the charred landscape and the people of Cobb and Middletown will rebuild their cities.

Looking out my back window I can see that the plume of smoke is doubling in size; soon it becomes apparent that this fire is within the local park system where I do a majority of my mountain biking. Rick and I decide to get a closer

look to see if our trails are actually on fire. We hop into our car and drive five minutes through the neighbourhood to find that the roads are blocked off. It’s so freaking hot, conditions are ripe for a fire. Before long fire trucks appear in the distance, blasting their ear-bleeding sirens as they fly by us in obvious urgency.

By now the flames are leaping off the top of the ridge, glowing orange and red even in the bright midday light. Soon the water and retardant drops begin and the helicopters and drop planes fly acrobatically over the leaping flames, dousing the ever-encroaching fire.

Unfortunately, the fire is dangerously close to houses; the firefighters work hard to create a firebreak that will prevent the fire from destroying the nearby neighbourhood. Southern California is known to have wildfires so the firefighters here in Ventura County are quite adept at putting fires out quickly. They were able to douse the fire by the next morning subsequently not a single house was lost.

I have never experienced a wildfire that close to my home nor had one affect my local riding spot before. It was quite a new and scary experience for me.

A couple of days later, Rick and I rode our bikes over to the trailhead so we could check out the condition of the trails and see what the damage was. It was really eerie to see the charred

and still-smoldering trees lining the trail. The ground was covered with a thick white ash and puffs of smoke were rising up from the trailside as we made our way slowly through the burned out areas. The pungent smell of smoke was literally overpowering. It looked like a bomb went off and it was dead quiet as well; no bird were chirping, nor were tall grass and leaves rustling in the breeze. Now there are just layers of white ash that looked like snow scattered everywhere. The trail itself was reduced to a powdery moon dust because of the many fire trucks driving up and down the trail through out the night. It was safe to say that it was definitely not the same trail that we had ridden on a few days before; we were amazed at how much the area had changed.

As mountain bikers we have a special appreciation for the beauty and tranquility that nature has to offer us and when that natural beauty is changed by an environmental event such as a fire, we are at first upset or shocked by the devastation. We soon come to realize that it is temporary and a natural--and needed--part of the ecosystem. Nature has a remarkable way of regenerating itself and although wildfires can cause massive destruction and many times take lives, humans are resilient and Mother Nature in time will replenish the charred foliage with a beautiful new landscape.

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Featured Story

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Breaking Tradition Words & Photos by Cecile Gambin

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radition is a fickle word. And life can deal us a handful if we let it. But not for Mark and Tammie. They didn’t give in to what society had planned and broke away from a traditional wedding. While they did exchange vows their marriage day was far from the usual.

Which is why when Tammie told me she was getting married I jumped at the chance to photograph their special day. In fact, I don’t really think I gave her an option once I realized that cell phone pics maybe used to record such an important event. Traditional or not, my goal was to create a series of images before, during and after the wedding that suited both their personalities and would give them long-lasting memories.

The wedding was to take place during The Seven Summits Trail Poker Ride on Sunday, September 6th near Rossland, BC. The Poker Ride is an annual event organized by Revolution Cycles using the Seven Summits Trail designated as an epic ride by IMBA. So I knew there was going to be a lot of technical climbing and tricky descents. Logistically, I just figured it was going

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to be a small wedding party as many could not travel to a remote area or ride this trail. Eight people surrounded Mark and Tammie – two sisters, two brother-in-laws, three friends, and one wedding commissioner – in single digit temperatures high on Granite Mountain in the Rossland Range of the West Kootenays.

The day began happily enough at 7:30 AM with the bride wearing a white tutu and lace stockings and the groom in a Lycra tuxedo jersey with a black top hat zip tied to his helmet. After a quick easy kilometer to warm us up the trail punched upwards. We climbed exquisite single track with gorgeous vistas and 360 degree views of the Monashee and Southern Selkirk Mountains.

Following ridgelines, tacky dirt and pinescented trails greeted us at every switchback.

We climbed and climbed and climbed some more until we arrived at the first check point to play games and draw a few cards for the end-of-theday Poker game and festivities. Another check point later, a few photo ops here and there and we reached Granite Mountain fashionably late. I think my pokey climbing legs had something to

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do with that.

I believe the only pressure at this point was that we, the riders, had to make a 1:30 PM cutoff time stipulated by the Poker Ride organizers.

We still had a wedding, a lot of climbing, more fun-filled check points and a bunch of oldschool wickedly fast and flowy downhills before reaching the end of the trail to grab the last shuttle back to Rossland.

This entire time the bride and groom seemed at ease and showed no stress. While most soonto-be brides (and grooms) worry about flower arrangements, dresses, cute wedding invitations, and booking limos Tammie and Mark instead had their minds set on single track. There were no flowers, or the proverbial white dress, or rice (that would have been too heavy to carry) but they did have close friends and family, hand written vows, and helmets. All they had to do was pedal.

It seems that newlyweds often get hungup keeping everyone happy and making sure everything is perfect that they frequently forget about themselves. An on-line search of what a Mountain Bike for Her | P. 20

‘typical’ wedding day from a bride and grooms perspective is of no surprise why weddings can be stressful and downright tiring. To site a recent article posted by The Huffington Post (January 13, 2015) the following remarks were made by actual newlyweds on Reddit and HuffPost: • ‘Having not eaten all day due to stress and nerves, we realized we were STARVING, and ordered Chinese food from the only place at 4AM’ • ‘She sat on the floor in front of me. We watched TV while I took the 6000 hairpins out of her hair.”

• My in-laws got us a hotel room for the night. The room was directly above theirs.”

• We got back to the hotel, we began to consummate our vows and there’s a knock at the door. It’s my mom.”

• ‘My wife was literally crying because I was taking too long to undo the 800 buttons on the back of her dress’ This isn’t to say that Tammie and Mark had no worries. In fact, a raging forest fire in nearby

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Washington State threatened to cancel the wedding as flames and smoke steadily creeped northward towards Rossland. Only a week before close to half of the Seven Summits Trail was closed. “We knew we would still get married regardless but if the ride was cancelled it would have really sucked” said Tammie. Having arrived in BC two weeks before and with no ‘plan-B’ they kept riding, exploring the area, and hoping that cooler temps and wetter days would come. As it happened, it rained and the trail re-opened. It was a dry and cooler day on the 6th but “better cooler than smokier”, remarked Tammie a fire-fighter (Acting Captain) with the City of Mississauga, Ontario.

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for sure…with only one trail in we knew neither the bride nor the groom could get cold feet.

Escape was futile. There was nowhere to ‘run’!!

Now while ‘traditional’ wedding pressures and moments can be a normal part of the day I, for one, would not make it my preference. I’m not overly traditional. I much favour what my friends did - go for a ride, get hitched, ride some more, socialize, get back to the hotel, lube the bike chain, kick off the cycling shoes, wipe the face off from salt and mud, and have a nice quiet dinner with the friends and family. I don’t know about you but doing something that is a large part of my life and that of my partners’ sounds like a perfect wedding to me!

Congratulations Mark and Tammie! Here’s to being true to yourselves and having fun on your special day.

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Training

IT’S ALL IN YOUR HEAD

A Look at Mental Toughness Words by Jaclyn Delacroix

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P. 25 | Mountain Bike for Her Photo Credit: Gina Hopper

Photo Credit: Jaclyn Delacroix

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t’s something I’d never really thought about personally until I was halfway up the fourth climb during Crankzilla (2014 Crankworx EWS stage). I was pushing myself so hard on this last climb I could taste the vomit in the back of my throat, and I knew that if I slowed down I wouldn’t reach my stage starts on time. So I did the only thing I know how to do: keep going.

The other option available to me, give up, just never really entered my mind.

2014 was the year that half the amateur women didn’t complete the race, and in all honesty, many of them at that point in time had way better fitness bases going into the race than I had. After a year of injuries leading up to the race, my biggest day of riding had topped out at 26km, and that was two weeks prior. So why, at kilometre 40-something was I still pushing on, even though my whole body told me it was done around 10 kilometres beforehand? Pure stubbornness or something else?

I found out again that my body can go well

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beyond my mental perception of fatigue and tiredness. This is basically your brain telling you to stop so you don’t kill yourself, though physically you are still capable of continuing on long after that mental fatigue kicks in. You know that moment I’m talking about, it’s that massive hill that feels like it’s never going to end. It’s day 4 in a 7 day stage race, it’s turning up to race day and it’s pouring rain and freezing out. It’s that moment where you mentally just give up.

So how do we build this mental toughness?

Stop procrastinating. You don’t need to take a water break 20 minutes into your gym workout.

You also don’t need to stop every other kilometer on a climb to “catch your breath”. Firstly, if you spend an hour at the gym you aren’t going to dehydrate yourself in that time. Have your water before and after your workout, I promise you’ll survive. As for the climbing, rather than stopping just slow down for a moment if you

need to grab some air. You need to teach your body that it can go extended periods of time with an elevated heart rate.

Alone time It’s great to have training buddies for those long slow distance rides, it’s nice to have someone to chat to and suffer alongside you as you put in those boring monotonous kilometers. It also does nothing to help build that mental toughness.

Try riding alone on some of those rides, it better emulates racing than riding and chatting with friends. While you are at it, ditch your music. All these distractions do is just that, they slow you down and make you unfocused, they take away from the “tough” aspect of what you are actually doing.

Repetition, repetition, repetition I’m talking long duration sessions of a single exercise or single exercise sets. 3 sets of ten squats doesn’t sound too bad. Now imagine I told you we are about to spend the next hour doing squats, (yes I heard the groan). About 20 minutes in you will begin to learn a valuable lesson. Pain doesn’t mean you are injured. It’s all in your mind. 40 minutes in you are going to learn another valuable lesson, you won’t die from the pain. As the hour comes to an end (and thankfully also the whining and moaning) you will have learnt on a small scale that your mind has a great ability to cope under duress.

So how long will this take?

Developing the sort of mental toughness I’m talking about doesn’t happen overnight, it takes it’s own special sort of training and it takes time.

You don’t hop on a mountain bike for the first time ever and go hit a 40 foot gap jump, so don’t expect this to be any different. Think of Mental Toughness as just another aspect of your training schedule, just like gym sessions and interval training.

For good measure and when all else fails always remember rule number 5.

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Profile

Trish Bromley at the 2015 Crankworx Whistler Pump Track Challenge.

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Photo Credit: Teresa Edgar

Radical Women: Trish Bromley Words by Teresa Edgar

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Bromley gets in a practice lap at the Crankworx Whistler Dual Speed & Style.

Photo Credit: Scott Robarts

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Toronto native, Trish Bromley got her start in mountain biking when she to moved to Whistler in the winter of 2009. She had the intention of being a ski bum for the season, however, she returned to Toronto a mountain bike addict. Six years later, Bromley is making a name for herself as a trailblazer in women’s freeride.

Her 2015 mountain bike season started with the Freeride Mountain Bike (FMB) World Tour’s Jump Jam, a new event at this year’s GO Fest in Whistler which included a category for women. It was the only event on the FMB World Tour to do so and Bromley was the sole woman to compete in the inaugural bronze-level event. She would make headlines again when she became the first woman to qualify for the Crankworx Whistler Dual Speed and Style (DS&S) later that season.

Bromley had thought about qualifying for other male dominated events before but, “Too many excuses were convenient. This time felt right,” she says. “Qualifying [for the DS&S] was based on speed alone, so all I had to do was get through the course.”

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Bromley was the first, and only, woman to compete in the FMB Jump Jam at Whistler’s GO Fest.

Photo Credit: Carolyn Kavanagh Knowing that the best way to gain speed was to memorize the course, Bromley decided to go to the practice session early. Her goal was to get in a few laps of the course before the majority of the racers arrived. Except, “by the time I made it there it was well underway,” Bromley recalls, “Seeing everyone else flowing the features was a little intimidating but also really helped me judge speed and watch for zesty corners.”

“I wasted a lot of time looking at the last jump,” Bromley had found it to be a bit daunting, “but I’d already decided I wanted to do it and I realized I’d better get good at it. Then [the] last jump was changed after qualifying- it got bigger.”

After she completed the qualifying round, Crankworx gave her the thumbs up to ride and let her know that there would only be one category and everyone would ride the same features. She would be racing against the men.

For the first heat of the competition, Bromley was paired with Andrew Taylor. They raced each other on the parallel runs, switched sides and raced again. This was to ensure that the riders didn’t have any advantages by racing one course

versus the other. In the end, Taylor defeated Bromley and advanced in the competition. “[Taylor] is such [a] rider and his jokes in the gate took a lot of the edge off,” she says as she relives the feeling of being a competitor in the Crankworx DS&S. For Bromley, just having the opportunity to compete in the event was an amazing experience.

She continued by saying, “The course was playful and fast, and the energy was electric.

Addicting for sure.”

The feedback she has received since competing has also been encouraging, “Other female riders want to compete, too. I’m not sure how next year will look, but it was pretty rad having one inclusive category,” she said.

When asked what she thinks the future holds for women’s freeride events Bromley responds, “Women in freeride is in its infancy...so there has to be more development at the grassroots level in order to see an increase at the top level.

But it works both ways. There are a ton of great contests currently out there, and I look forward to seeing women competing in them in the next couple of years.”

Now that the season is over, Bromley is getting ready to head back to Toronto for the winter; and to her job at the Joyride 150, which she calls a phenomenal playground. It’s an indoor mountain bike facility where she says she gets to “train, work, and play”. We know she’s going to spend the winter honing her skills and we can’t wait to see what the 2016 mountain bike season has in store for her.

Crankworx was a busy week for Bromley. She competed in the Dual Speed & Style, the Pump Track Challenge, and the Giant Slalom.

Photo Credit: Colin Wilson

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Winter Riding

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Fat Bikes Aren’t Just for Boys Words & Photos by Paula Burton

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o dig out those old pair of snowshoes in the back of the closet. “Snowshoes? Isn’t this a magazine about mountain biking?”

“Yes, snowshoes.” Invite as many friends as you can, bikers, non-bikers, young, old, fast and slow. Go on a nighttime full moon snowshoeing adventure. Don’t tell anyone the true intention is to pack the trail for the fat bikes.”

Packing the singletrack is not only fun, but requires ingenuity. Hitch up a harness of some sort and drag a tire. Wheelbarrow tires, and car tires work well. Strap a weight onto the tire, and the powder packs into a buff path.

Fat bikes are hitting the trails in record numbers in my area (Fairfield County, Connecticut). I would see one rider or two on a fair day. This year I see 20 or more on a weekend afternoon. Many more women are riding fat bikes. I bought mine at the end of the season last year. Greg Meghani, owner of Class Cycles of Southbury, CT, reports that the manufacturers cannot keep up with the demand for fat bikes.

Greg let me borrow his Surley Moon Lander.

After one ride, I was hooked and bought a Surley Pugsley with 4-inch wheels. At first, the Pugsley seemed too big and awkward to ride, although the bike is the correct size for me. But after a few rides, that feeling went away. Framed Bikes builds two models of women-specific Minnesota bikes and a 24-inch Mini-Sota model, great for smaller women.

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Riding twisty, narrow, packed powder trails is strenuous, fun, and can take much concentration to stay on the line. I overheard a rider saying that it is like riding a 3-mile skinny. One inch off the line and the bike and rider are swimming in a lake of powder. Getting back on the bike in powder can be a challenge, especially if everyone is looking at you and you are laughing. Even very skilled riders take a header into the white stuff once in a while.

Why a fat bike? Isn’t a regular mountain bike enough? Jewels Simone is stoked that the season doesn’t have to end when the snow falls. She bought a Charge Cooker Maxi 2 with 5-inch wide tires. Last year she saw people riding fat bikes when the skinny tired bikes couldn’t cut it.

“They were having so much fun! It’s a great way to enjoy the beautiful snowy landscapes.

The big tires also mean that they roll over and down terrain and technical features that may otherwise toss around a regular bike. Big rocks, and rollers are a piece of cake! And snow, sand, and mud which may have otherwise been unrideable are now open to exploration.”

Kathy Herde is an expert mountain biker who rides a customized Pugsley with Clownshoe wheels decorated with plaid duct tape. “It’s great cross training and who doesn’t like to mix it up?

When I retire from downhill riding I will commit to just fat biking. The first time I rode a fat bike I had so much fun. I could not stop giggling

and smiling the entire time. And man can they corner!!”

“We live in a place where there’s not much to do outside in the winter. The snow isn’t great for skiing, but perfect for fat biking,” says Ahmi Bryant. “ Fat bikes let you ride in a different way.

You’re not out training or taking much risks.

It’s very social and you can’t stop smiling when you’re doing it! They roll so much better over the rocky terrain of the northeast. So if you live where you have white winters and love riding a bike, it’s just logical!”

Fat biking is catching on all over New England. Cross country ski areas are grooming for fat bikes and are opening snow shoe trails to fat bikes. Kingdom Trails in East Burke, VT has 20 miles of trails groomed for fat biking. Rentals can be found at the Village Sport Shop and East Burke Sports. The fourth annual Winter Bike held on February 28, 2015 attracted over 300 people to ride fat bikes and celebrate winter.

Grafton Pond Outdoors Center in Grafton, VT, has 25 kilometers of trails. According to Daq Woods, the director, “Fat biking is new this year and has really taken off. We do have wide, groomed, cross country trails but the favourite trails of the riders are the narrow, twisty snowshoe trails. A good rule of thumb is not to ride if the tires are making 2-inch divots. We ask that keep your tires below 10 psi. Stop by and buy a trail pass, and be courteous to other users.

Most of the riders have their own bikes, but we do have two bikes for rental, and are planning on getting more for next year.”

If you are up for a true adventure, plan a multiday trip to explore Maine Huts and Trails in Carrabassett Valley, Maine. Gear shuttles can be arranged. Four huts, actually full service lodges, await the rider with heated bunk rooms, hot showers, wine and beer for sale, and four course meals.

Keep the tire pressure low. Some folks go a little crazy with the exact psi, but if the tire feel soft, it is good to ride in the snow. Be prepared for the weather. I dress like I am going cross country skiing, which is in layers of tech clothes. I also change to flat pedals in the winter. The pedals don’t freeze up and I can wear good winter boots to keep my feet warm. I carry a bigger CamelBak so I can take layers on and off. Water reservoirs freeze up, so tuck the tube under your jacket.

Spitting back into the mouth piece helps keep the water flowing. A flat fat needing a tube change can be a time consuming challenge even in good weather.

Fat bikes aren’t just for winter. Riding fat bikes on dirt is just as fun. One of our favourite local rides is Fat Bike Friday at Waldo State Park in Southbury CT. The trails are smooth and flowy, the park is small, and all levels of rider have a great time. And yes, fat bikes are for women too.

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Trail Tales

A Girl & Her Shoes

Words & Photos by Margaret Gregory

M

y shoes stink. I’ve just extracted them from an equally rank bike bag where they were stowed away in a plane for 48 hours on our journey home from biking in the Alps. I look at their worn tongues and frayed laces sadly, and dump a puddle of muddy water out of them onto the ground. They were packed away wet, that’s their problem. Our last ride of the trip had been down a steep clay bike park track the day after a rain. Basically, a slip-n-slide covered in thick pasty mud. We’d spent hours cleaning our bikes with a hose and brushes, but had taken less care with our clothes and footwear. Everything was soaked, but we had a plane to catch. There was no time to lovingly hang our shoes out to dry in the mountain air.

I pick up the black 5.10 Hellcats and flick a clump of muck off the sole. I start thinking about all the layers of dirt that must be on these shoes. Slimy mud from Mont Sainte Anne where I tested them out on my first world cup course, red sand from our many trips to Sedona and Utah, thick, juicy loam from the Northwest, layer

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upon layer of California dust. I pull out a piece of sharp, brown grass from our local trails that is still stuck to the Velcro strap. I think about how far that piece of grass has travelled. These shoes have literally been around the world with me. They’ve seen 3 continents, and countless miles of trail.

I don’t want to contemplate throwing these shoes away. I’m probably well past the expiration period for a piece of equipment that contain my sweaty feet on a daily basis, but I push that thought aside. They just need to dry out that’s all. They’ll be fine.

I notice that the fabric at the back of the heels is starting to wear from taking them on and off so many times. I think about how good it feels to take these shoes off and slide my feet into flip-flops after a long ride, and in turn, how welcoming they feel when I pull them back on for the next one. They’ve molded to my feet over the miles. They’re not the lightest shoes, and the sweat and dirt accumulating on them must only be making them heavier, but they feel

right on my feet. No blisters, no hot spots, no numb toes. I switch to other shoes from time to time, thinking I need something lighter, something less clunky, a better race shoe. But I always come back. I come back to them on the first cold ride of the year, when my super light, extra well-vented shoes aren’t keeping my feet warm enough. I come back to them for that epic day we have planned where I might need to hike and I know my other shoes will give me blisters and slip around on the rocks. I come back to them when I feel like I might need to be extra planted on my pedals. Then, once I’m back, they’re always just right.

Considering the number of miles these shoes have seen, they are in surprisingly good shape.

The soles are still stiff and sticky and there are no holes in any integral locations. I notice they’ve developed lines on the top where my foot flexes.

Like the laugh lines I’m discovering on my face as I get older, these flaws on their surface remind me of adventures. They remind me of leaping off my bike to save myself while trying to climb a piece of slick rock that was just a bit too steep.

They remind me of my honeymoon, biking from hut to hut in Colorado, they remind me of riding the Santa Ana River trail in the snow and rain, and of those perfect hero dirt days on the mountain.

If I close my eyes, I can hear the stomping noise that they make when I’m pushing my bike up a hill I couldn’t climb. The thick rubber helping insulate against the frustration my body is trying to inflict on the earth. I can feel their stickiness as I navigate a rocky cliff edge with confidence, my bike perched upon my shoulder. I can hear them click securely into my pedals just in time to roll over a nasty nest of gnarly roots.

I pull out the insoles, with their impression of my feet faded into the foam, and drop them into the bucket of soapy water. I’m not ready to give up on these shoes just yet.

Marilyn Monroe said: “give a girl the right shoes, and she can conquer the world.” Well, for me those right shoes happen to be a grey-brownused-to-be-black pair of dirty, smelly 5.10s.

Surely with a wash and some time to dry in the sun, I can squeeze a few more miles in before I have to trade these trail conquering beauties for something new.

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Events

Set a Goal Find a Coach Kick Some Ass Words by Carmel Ecker | Photos by Gina Hopper

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oals. Big or small, they are what drive us forward.

In rising to the challenges we set for ourselves, we can say we have changed, grown, improved. In the case of mountain biking, we can say we shredded, ripped, conquered.

The best way to achieve our riding goals is to challenge ourselves with new terrain and/or tap into the knowledge of more skilled riders.

That’s what the Silver Star Ladies’ Weekend in August offered, and with less than a month of lead-time, 54 riders ascended to the quaint mountain top village. They came from LA, Calgary, the Sea to Sky Corridor, Vancouver, the Kootenays, the Okanagan, and Vancouver Island.

We went for the camaraderie of other women and the excitement of a new riding destination, but primarily we went for the chance to improve as riders.

We all had goals.

I was dreaming of big air. I felt like my downhill skills had stagnated over the past three years. I hadn’t pushed myself to go bigger on drops and jumps since I’d become a parent. But I knew it was time to see if I could refine my skills

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a little and muster the courage to go off bigger drops and fly higher over bigger jumps.

On the morning of the clinic, chatter and laughter filled the air as everyone gathered on the lawn in Silver Star’s village of brightly coloured false front buildings. There is nothing quite like the energy of a group of women mountain bikers at a skills camp. Even small local club clinics feature hooting and hollering, words of encouragement, and bucket loads of stoke. It’s the sound of women stretching themselves and growing their confidence while doing something they love and it’s marvellous.

Maybe that’s why Jaclyn Delacroix, owner of Ozmosis Training, says the clinics are often as much fun for the coaches as they are for the participants.

“You’ve got this group of coaches who just want to empower women who are up and coming, who want to improve themselves and be better at what they do,” she says.

Given that Delacroix had just six weeks to pull the event together after being approached with the idea by Silver Star and the Muddbunnies riding club, she managed to attract some stellar

talent.

In the Facebook page created for the event, nearly every coach had a testimonial of their awesomeness from a past participant looking forward to the weekend.

Among the nine coaches was Penny Deck, who has 15 years of Trek Dirt Series coaching experience behind her. Jaime Hill not only coaches but has also raced the World Cup downhill circuit for the past five years. Carolyn Kavanagh has been kicking ass in Whistler for the past 12 years and competing in slope style events since 2008. The list goes on.

In spite of the experience and skill of our coaches, the weekend was surprisingly cheap, which made it easy to sign up.

Trying to keep the clinic as affordable as possible, Delacroix charged just $115 for the weekend. That fee included a day of skills coaching with lunch and dinner provided, plus a mechanic at our disposal (courtesy of Vancouver’s Different Bikes). With our two-day lift pass, we got a second day of DH ripping with a new set of riding buddies and Liv was there with a fleet of demos for our exclusive use for

the whole weekend. Plus, there was a tonne of swag.

The deals don’t get much sweeter.

“Everybody went deep into their pockets for us to get this off the ground,” said Delacroix, who tapped into her industry connections to bring everything together.

After the coaches introduced themselves, we broke into groups according to skill level and learning interest. I aligned myself with the women who wanted to work on jumping – getting bigger air and more hang time. Our coach was Lynne Armstrong, a Scot who now makes her home in Pemberton, B.C. I had secretly hoped she would be my coach when her bio showed up on the event’s Facebook page. The attached picture was of her doing a backflip, which told me she kinda knows a thing or two about getting big air. She also founded Air Maiden, the UK’s only female free ride event.

This woman loves to jump and she’s damn good at it. Who better to learn from?

After a warm-up run, we headed for the jump park, where we found four dirt jump lines to practice on. But before we started launching P. 41 | Mountain Bike for Her

ourselves into the stratosphere, Armstrong took us back to basics and had us practicing J-hops on the flat. Making that arc with your bike in the air is key to getting height and hitting the transition properly, she said. It was a great warm up and gave us all a solid foundation to work from.

When we graduated to the line of small tabletops, she encouraged us to approach each jump slowly and practice our take off without getting too much air. Most of us managed to contain our excitement for a couple runs before she told us to let loose and see if we could hit the transitions. Armstrong watched as we each did our thing and on our way back up the hill, she offered constructive feedback. As each of us found our groove, she told us to take the next line and then the next.

“I’m gonna whoop louder the higher you go.

I’m the whoop-o-metre!” Armstrong yelled as we all queued up for the third line.

She even suggested we try doing something with all that time we were spending in the air.

So we did. We started doing little bar turns, tried to kick our back ends out to the side a bit. They weren’t the most exciting manoeuvres to watch, but it sure was fun to do. I had never considered the possibility that I would have the presence of Mountain Bike for Her | P. 42

mind to execute anything in the air and still land both tires on the dirt, so I was ecstatic with this kind of progress.

The smiles got bigger and bigger as the morning went on. By the time we left the dirt jumps, everyone seemed ready to rock out every jump on the mountain.

A few of us had already been to Silver Star and had some demons to slay. Armstrong was happy to walk us through our fears. Features that had scared the pants off us for years suddenly became vanquished foes.

“It’s awesome!” Armstrong said at the bottom of one sizeable drop we sessioned. “You guys are facing all your demons.”

When everyone returned to the village at the end of the day, it was clear from the sea of smiles that goals had been met. It’s unlikely that every woman met all of her goals, but talking with the other riders, it seemed we had all improved in some way.

One of the women, Sandra Gerrard, had signed up for the clinic in spite of her trepidation about downhilling.

“I was scared like I never rode a bike before!

My stomach was in a little bit of a knot because I didn’t know what to expect as I’ve never DH’d

before,” she said. “When I see DH’ers dressed in all their body armour, it makes me think that this is a dangerous sport,” she said. “It put me off for years to try and attempt it.”

A Vancouverite who spends a lot of her time riding cross country trails in Squamish, Gerrard says she didn’t realize that downhill skills could benefit her cross country riding, but what she learned about body position and cornering will make a big difference on her home turf.

“I DEFINITELY achieved my goals and my coach Jaclyn Delacroix was super amazing at explaining and demonstrating how it should be done,” she said. “In my opinion, the coach is key to learning new skill. If the coach doesn’t know how to explain it in detail step-by-step or demonstrate it, it can be challenging to learn.”

Ivy Luis, a 20 year veteran of the sport who enjoys all aspects of mountain biking, wasn’t quite as glowing about her day, but said she was happy about her progress.

“My jumping is getting closer. The training was awesome!”

She still has a bit of fear over “stomping at steeper lips,” she said, but they became a little less scary by the end of the day.

Luis spends most of her time on cross country trails because that’s what’s most accessible at home in San Carlos, California, but her fever for big air was clear throughout the day of coaching as she eyed up every stunt and pedalled hard to get the speed she needed to clear them.

As the clinic was a precursor to a holiday in Whistler, Luis was using Silver Star as a warm up with hopes of improving her jumping technique before hitting the likes of A Line.

Everyone seemed excited about their progress and when I caught up with Delacroix after dinner, she said the feedback she’d gotten so far had been very positive. As an organizer and coach, she’d met her goals too.

“I wanted everyone to have a good time and I wanted everyone to learn something and think about what they want to do next year,” she said.

When asked if there would be a second annual event, she offered a resounding “Hell yes!

Considering the number of women that have already been asking me, ‘Is this going to happen next year?’, I’m going to go with yes.”

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