Kelly and Phil's BC Adventure

5 more hours of riding. That is all that is left on the eleven-week training plan that I have used (to some degree) to get ready for the BC Bike Race. Next Sunday, July 2, Phil and I will toe the start line with 600 other men and women from around the globe in Cumberland, British Columbia. We will do that for 7 consecutive days, riding classic singletrack and rainforest backcountry, until we reach the downhill mecca of Whistler. The race will cover over 200 miles (of which 80% will be singletrack) and a total of 30,600 feet of elevation gain.

Despite those daunting statistics, I am feeling ready. Despite the rainy spring, I've put in 210 hours on the bike since February; taken a women's cross country and downhill clinic (organized by Mountain Moxie) to refine technique; spent a dozen physical therapy appointments to curb my patella femoral; dialed in the perfect bike and accessories (including a bear whistle) and crammed enough to handle most mechanicals (although maybe not fast).

The one unknown is how much I'll miss my kids. Phil and I decided to sign up for this race exactly one year ago when we realized the auspicious nature of us both turning 40 and it being our ten year anniversary. It made sense to take something off the "bucket" list. As the planning got underway, however, it became clear that this experience meant leaving Austin and Carson for two full weeks. My parents were thrilled for an excuse to leave steamy Florida and adventure with their grandkids and I'm sure they will all have a good time. But even though Phil and I will be experiencing this together, I'm predicting to feel that a part of me is missing.

The trip will be memorable. Just getting to the start line, we'll have to drive to Montreal, take a plane to Vancouver, take a ferry to Nanaimo and take a bus to Cumberland. (And, yes, I did write about climate change and how I can do my part in yesterday's post). We'll stay with a former Appalachian Mountain Club colleague of mine in Vancouver and a former graduate school roommate in Squamish. We'll eat fresh dungeoness crab on Canada Day and relax in a hot tub in the shadow of the Fitzsimmons Range of Whistler.

The race will be memorable. It is cool to know about the big names racing, like downhiller and endurance racer, Mark Weir. Supposedly, Weir set out to ride a million feet in a year recently and did it in eleven months. That's about 3000 feet a day. I'm sure that I won't be seeing him on the course. But I hope to find camaraderie among other riders, especially the 30 women doing the solo category (over half of those in the over 40 category). I'm sure the journey through the woods will have me elated and grateful at times, as well as draw on my innermost reserves to cope. But, even the worst will be be temporary.

Being with Phil will be memorable. We'll get to see some beautiful landscapes together. We'll get to share the experience of riding our bikes day in and day out. Although we chose not to compete as a team (race rules require you to remain within 2 minutes of your teammate the entire race), I expect we'll reconnect over the finish line buffet every day. Then, after the swapping of the day's war stories with friends we have made along the way, we'll bypass the platform tent on our way to the hotel room we used credit card points to secure, ensuring comfort and quiet for the night.

But, I'll miss Vermont in July. I've had some terrific rides with friends over the last month. Little River to Stowe and back with Phil, Catherine and Tyler. Millstone with Lea and Joanna. Tour de Montpelier and Berlin with Phil, Grant, Bill and Steve. Sparrow Farm and Dan Smith's with Barb and Millstone with the MAMBA group. A cool dirt road climb to the Camel's Hump trailhead with Grant ending in a hailstorm. Three beautiful Wednesday night races at the Catmount Outdoor Center (two where I followed Austin and Carson on the one lap). And, Stowe, Waterbury and Waitsfield trails with my trusty steed (which would be our chocolate lab), Ali.

As I write this before bed, I can hear the eerie howl of a pack of coyotes. I recall the standoff I had with a bear in the road yesterday. Just tonight, I amusedly watched the boys devour a quart of fresh-picked strawberries that a neighbor delivered. Vermont will always be home and I know we'll be glad to come back when our adventure is over.