Mountain Bike Musings

"I should have worn my ski goggles," I thought to myself as I descended the driveway. It was April 21st and the snowflakes that appeared to be friendly out the window (albeit the fact they were flurrying sideways) were - upon impact - icy pellets that stung my cheeks like needles. Spring had been slow to come this year, and my patience had been ok with it ... until now. By this time last year, I had been riding dry trail networks and Phil and I had already raced the Sea Otter Classic in Monterey, California. As I pulled my neck warmer up a little higher, however, the idea of singletrack and shorts seemed a long way off. I settled into the muddy road and the joy of rolling on two wheels returned. I felt lucky to be outside at all.

I had been feeling the pressure to get in endurance miles because Phil and I were signed up for the BC bike race this July. While other sane Vermonters would be catching the political satire of the Warren parade on the fourth of July, we'll be deep in the British Columbia backcountry navigating the classic singletrack through the lush, primitive forests between Vancouver and Whistler.

Northwestern Canada has always been on my adventure "bucket" list, but when I realized the auspicious nature behind Phil and I both turning 40 in the year of our ten-year anniversary, I became obsessed with the thought of us doing this race. Phil said he was game, and before he could change his mind, I signed us up.

But that was last July, and despite still being enthusiastic about the race, the realization of what it would take to ride strong over 50km daily for 7 consecutive days was setting in. And it was starting to keep me up at night. I needed to get serious.

There was no need to be too worried. I was confident that I was off to a solid training start. The snow-filled winter had been full of days of sliding through the snow-sparkling backcountry or gleeful tele-skiing at Sugarbush with the kids. Pro rider Lea Davidson had told me about all the nordic skiing she was doing to cross-train and she had already placed 2nd in the first World Cup race of the year and 4th at Sea Otter (of course she also spent a month training in Europe). I had faith that my skiing muscle memory would transfer to the pedal stroke. Despite the continuation of perfect snow, I somehow managed to get back in the saddle on Valentines Day.

Part of the motivation was the start of Phil's six-week indoor cycling classes at The Confluence Community Sports Center in Montpelier. Liza Walker, Audrey Huffman, Joanie Kavanaugh and I met Fridays to learn a few "training tools for the toolbox." With our own bikes in the studio's trainers, we measured watts to determine our power in different interval zones. We learned why and when to drop in tempo and sweet spot efforts or use low or high cadence during our spring endurance rides. We reviewed breathing techniques, pedal stroke efficiency and nutrition. Most importantly, we got back in the riding groove.

Except for a few other early morning, rainy, indoor rides with Heather Voisin, I enjoyed my outdoor riding groove. Biking on snow is exhilarating under two conditions: 1) you are dressed in layers that are perfectly tucked and seal (yet breathe) over every inch of that large skin organ; and, 2) you can remain vigilantly alert to spot black ice with enough time to carefully merge into a parallel snow rut. I had given the snowmobile trails a whirl last winter and timed the conditions right- firm & recently groomed- and timed it wrong - soft, tire-sinkers. Descending on snow provides it own unique thrill, requiring patience and a commitment to waiting out a fishtail without touching the brakes.

Despite the monochrome beauty of winter, I welcome the mud and camaraderie of spring. I got a dose of both at the Gravel Grinder Classic sponsored by Five Hills Bikes, a 29 mile ride out of Waterbury to raise money for work on the Perry Hill trails. This event on April 10th was like Old Home Day- a reunion of sorts for the local mountain bike community coming out of hibernation with pasty white legs and an extra 5 pounds. One part ride and one part social.

In addition to re-connecting with old riding buddies, I am guaranteed a bunch of new ones through a new women's mountain bike race team, Mountain Moxie. A group of ladies started meeting last November about the idea of a team and by April, we had a mission and membership of 25. I am inspired by the diversity of race experience and ambitions and expect a sea of blue jerseys at Catamount, Millstone and the Vermont 50 this summer. I am also inspired by the broad community encouragement for women's technical skills building and success at the start line. The team is sponsored by ISIS, Onion River Sports, The Confluence, Terry Bicycles, Darn Tough, Five Hills Bikes, Magic Wheel Community Bike Center, Complexions and Johannes Otter Massage.

Already, I've found compatible training partners on my long rides. And, we are living up to the definition of our team name: Moxie (the ability to face difficulty with spirit and courage; determination or fortitude; aggressive energy). On a recent four-hour dirt road ride in Stowe and Morristown, Heather Steinhour, Catherine MacIntyre and I climbed a ridiculous hill only to find the final elbow of our ride blocked by snow. Rather than descend and face the busy traffic of route 100, we swung our bikes over our shoulders and started hiking. A mile later, Heather was still grinning as we started rolling again past hidden mountain farms, towards our cars.

I also admit to digging my solo rides exploring Vermont's backroads. There is something meditative about listening to music while simply observing signs of spring: flocks of purple finches, mating displays of male turkeys, waterfalls cascading down hillsides, barns against the backdrop of a tapped sugarbush, and the unique character of country homesteads. I am grateful for "my time" - I may have to work or workout at 5:00 in the morning and go to bed at 8:30 at night to get it all in, but 12 hours a week of "checking out" on my bike is really 12 hours of "checking in" to how I feel physically, how my life is unfolding and what is happening around me. This process of reflection certainly makes me a better worker, parent, wife, friend and volunteer the other hours of the week. So, I'll keep making it happen, despite snow, sleet and rain.

And, it is snowing again on this Saturday, April 23rd. And even though I am considering opting out of a ride for some spring cleaning, I may head to the gym...