Suspending Common Sense
'Your biggest enemy is your common sense' I am reassured in the ambiguously philosophical tone of adventure guides.
Feeling little reassurance I disembark from the modified chairlift with my good friend who is also a first aid patroller at Cypress Mountain's new downhill mountain biking park. ëAt least' I think to myself ëhe'll be close by when the inevitable happens.' We roll down the ramp and stop to look down the wide swaths in the forest that in the winter are the ski/snowboard runs now converted to biking trails. It now sports banked turns, wall rides, jumps and skinnies (ridiculously narrow planks of wood erected at various heights above the ground). The wide path ahead of me appears totally different from how I remember it: coated with a thick layer of packed snow and bordered with deep powder it is now bare dirt, gravel and rock bordered with boulder and tree. I have traded in my thick snowboarding gear for a t-shirt, shorts. The board is gone too replaced with a sturdy looking bike bearing some scars from apparent bouts of common sense.
This is my first time experiencing downhill mountain biking, the sport that has taken over many of the local mountains. Both whistler and Cypress have groomed and patrolled trails where riders can take the chairlift to the top, however unofficial trails exist all over the north shore, maintained by the bikers themselves. Downhill has few similarities to traditional mountain biking, the kind I grew up with. The bikes are smaller, more compact and equipped with full suspension. The bikes also cost about 10 times as much as I remember and have seats which are almost vestigial as bikers spend all their time on the bike standing.
It is 10 am and the mountain hasn't opened yet and the trails are completely empty. My guide agrees to take me down the easiest trail first so I can get the hang of the bike and riding banked turns and small jumps. The mountain is quiet and the air is fresh, some of the turns expose Vancouver sprawling beneath us but mostly the view is of expansive wilderness stretching up Howe Sound and beyond the peaks of the North Shore mountains. The city feels far away. The suspension system does a lot to absorb the rough terrain and the ride is surprisingly smooth. The turns are built up semicircular ramps that guide the rider and well marked small jumps are found at regular intervals down the trail. We ride slowly and soon the bike feels comfortable and turning feels natural. As we reach the lower half of the green run we pick up speed and I feel the faint elation of adrenaline as I take my first small jump of the day. This sport isn't so bad I ominously think to myself.
Downhill is an Extreme sport (capital E); meaning that the main draw is the adrenaline that comes from near death experiences. Imposing difficult obstacles on yourself to test your skills and ability to recover from injury, and the injuries I will soon learn are a big part of the sport. The first aid hut sports a map of the trails with small pins of five colors dotting it each pin representing the scene of an accident requiring medical attention. The pins range in color from yellow to black, yellow is for sprained joints and pulled muscles and abrasions not requiring stitches, Black for spinal cord damage, or critically life threatening injury. The map is a multi-colored mosaic of run-ins with common sense.
We reach the bottom of the hill and load our bikes onto the chair for the second run of the day. Feeling more relaxed now I sit back in the chair and enjoy the view on the way up. Using chairlifts has revolutionized the sport. Now riders can do many more rides in a day and avoid tiring their legs climbing up the hill. Now I spot a few other riders on the chairs ahead and behind us. Soon we are at the top of the hill and begin our second run, a blue. Blue runs are a different matter all together. The trail is narrow, steep and insulated with large jagged boulders, steep drop-offs and thick forest. Obstacles like these are best avoided by not worrying about them, I am told.
ëYou ride where you look, keep your eyes on the trail and you will stay on it, but focusing on the dangers that await your in the event of an accident is a sure fire way to have one.'
I am skeptical. I slowly make my way down the trail avoiding near accidents several times by acts of athleticism that surprise me. I am always aware of the terrain off the beaten track.
The busiest time for the mountain isn't the weekend but 4 to 8 on weekdays. The sport is gaining popularity among white collar workers from the down town core. They strap their bikes on the roofs of their sports coupes and trade their suits for body armor as soon as work finishes. Apparently they find it relaxing,
ëThat doesn't say much about the environment of the modern workplace' I quip half to myself.
My guide shoots me a quizzical look.
Soon we are descending steep trails with increasing speed. We take turns blind with my guide slightly ahead giving me limited warning of what to expect. I take a turn and find a wooden ledge followed by a drop off at 75 degrees of about 30 feet, I try to break but it is too late I follow the instructions he gave me and soon I am at the bottom breathing heavily and shaken but a dumb smile has now crossed my face.
Next we come to the roller coaster, a 40 foot long section of elevated wood track that has two large waves built into it. Riders need enough speed to clear the humps or else they will stop and fall off to the forest floor. However too much speed will result in the rider taking air and hitting the incline of the second hump perpendicularly, flipping over the handle bars, landing on the track then rolling off to the waiting forest floor below. I watch him go first.
ëThis is crazy' I say, my words absorbed by my face guard which is now damp with sweat. I approach the ramp but don't have enough speed and the bike doesn't clear the first hump, I nearly fall off the narrow track and am forced to walk my bike the rest of the way.
'Common sense got the best of you' he hollers cheerfully from the bottom of the track. He is not teasing that is genuine advice. Downhill is like a lot of things, fear is often your biggest obstacle.
As I disembark defeated from the roller coaster a group of riders race past us, their full helmets obscure their faces. They hit the roller coaster with the maximum speed to attain weightlessness over the humps without ever loosing touch, they are balanced, graceful and soon they disappear down the trail ahead. I can't imagine going that fast.
We continue down the trail and soon my guide gets his first call of the day. Someone has hurt themselves and needs attention. We quickly ride to the customer service tent to find one of the riders who just passed us. He has some scrapes on his elbow. When he takes off his helmet I am surprised to see that he is only fourteen. As he is being bandaged I ask him if common sense caught up with him.
'What?'
Apparently not.
Soon it's time for lunch. We take burgers from the cafeteria to the patrollers hut. Sitting around the small picnic table in the hut with the rest of the first aid crew the sound of mountain birds comes in through the window and all I can see is deep forest. The city feels very far away now. We finish the burgers and my guide takes me to his favorite blue berry patch to have a snack and digest lunch. The berries are large and plentiful and we both eat our fill.
'There are four different varieties of blackberries on the mountain,' he boasts.
The fresh fruit is a tax-free perk. I'm starting to see why this is a great job.
We begin biking again with conspicuously blue lips. After lunch the riding feels different. Instead of the anxiety and fear that was plaguing me I now feel calm and begin to trust the bike. Now I am amazed at the obstacles that I can ride with almost no effort except not thinking about falling. The stunts that seemed impossible before lunch I now do without problems and I am now riding black diamond runs comfortably.
Each sport has its own appeal: the thrill of victory over an opponent, the knowledge of mastering something difficult, cardiovascular training or victory over yourself. Downhill mountain biking has many of these aspects and something else as well. I felt it when I first crossed the skinny that I never would have if I had known it was coming, I felt it when I rode the drop off with the flag stones. When you travel at high speeds you are given minimal time to deal with obstacles your have time only to react to the terrain and do what you can. You only think 'how can I do this?' not 'can I?' This is the appeal for me. How at times your conscious mind shuts off and you are just riding at the best of your ability.
We finish a run and look to my guide to express the feeling, the look in his eyes show me that he knows it well and we board the chair lift in silence. This is the ëcommon sense' he was talking about.
Cypress mountain is open for downhill the first three weekends of September and then closes until next summer. Whistler closed on the 5th of September. There are many downhill trails on the North Shore mountains, but the trails are best when dry so downhill is primarily a summer sport.
Cypress Mountain is located on the north shore of Vancouver. From downtown take the Lions Gate bridge follow the signs to Highway #1 west take the number 8 exit to Cypress bowl road.
September 9, 2005
Posted by Geoff Affleck on September 9th, 2005 in Articles.
