The Bakery: My Date with Rob Warner
Photo: Paris Gore
Rob Warner is a legend whose World Cup commentary is as worthy of your attention as the racing itself, Seriously, when was the last time you heard an announcer state, “He’s all over the place like a monkey dry-humping a football!”? When I found out that Warner was in Whistler for Crankworx, I had to get an interview with him.
Naturally, I followed the standard journalistic protocol for such matters, which is to say I propositioned him in the line-up for a bar. Like a creepy groupie violating a restraining order, I blurted out, “You’re Rob Warner! Will you go on a date with me?”
Surprisingly, that approach didn’t work as well as I’d hoped. Two nights later, with some solid work from two wingmen (apparently I can’t even pick-up for a fake date on my own), I got Rob to agree to an interview over dinner with me.
Pinkbike: Ten Commandments of Heckle Rock... Crankworx 2013
Crankworx used to end with a bang, and then a fizzle. After the big event on Saturday, the Canadian Open always felt like a bit of an after thought; something to watch from the GLC patio while sipping Caesars and nursing a vicious hangover. That was until a shirtless and half-cut Moses descended on the racecourse and a new sport was born; Heckling. Yesterday morning a mob of nearly-nude-never-nudes showed up to Heckle Rock early for the best vantage points like they were getting in line for T Swift concert tickets. Beer bongs, booze and boobs were unloaded as the crew settled in and prepared to enlighten the world of downhill racing. With them they brought a new set of rules, new wisdom and the ten commandments of Heckle Rock.
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Pinkbike: Nine Days Later...Crankworx 2013
A post apocalyptic scene unfolded on the barren land of the slopestyle course yesterday. The rain was relentless for most of the morning leaving all of Whistler village, riders and fans in limbo, wondering if the show would go on. When the call was finally made spectators began a slow purposeful march up the hill. The weather had let up to a drizzle, the clouds were ominous and a chopper hovered overhead looking for signs of life amongst the zombies. They found it.
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Pinkbike: The Eighth Day...Crankworx 2013
And on the eighth day Noah hosted the Whip Off Worlds. Undeterred by the rain, fans could be spotted walking towards the village with deteriorating “whips for tits” cardboard signs in tow. Hungover and slow moving, they were soggy hitchhiking zombies wanting to see your rack. No amount of rain or cold was going to keep their shirts on or stoke down as they hiked the mountain and converged on Crabapple Hits.
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Pinkbike: And on the Seventh Day...Crankworx 2013
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| Photo: Margus Riga |
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Pinkbike: 2013 Western Open - BC Cup
The Western Open has become a bit of an institution, it’s not the easiest race to get to but it’s one of the most loved tracks on the BC Cup circuit and worth the hours of travel from Vancouver, Calgary, and Florida.
Check out more of my photos and Connor Macloed's video on pinkbike.com
The Bakery: Meat Pies and Meatheads… A DH Race Weekend
A DH race weekend is a magical world, the kind of place you find if you stumble through the back of a wardrobe or fall down a rabbit hole. Only the Cheshire cat would be wearing a pajama suit and Alice would be manically adjusting her tire pressure. Men run around in women’s clothing, scale buildings naked and drop their pants on course like baboons in heat. The scene is a bit like a redneck uncle; there is a lot of drinking, swearing, and punch lines that make you cringe. Regular life is game-off and conversation alternates from hot girls, to meat pies, to race lines – women, food and going fast.
The Bakery: Community
Bamfield is not a city. It is more of a small town or village. You can not pass through it to go anywhere and you are lucky to arrive there, over the logging road, with your car intact. This is where I grew up. It is where I learned the value of being a part of a community. Our commonality was our location and, as a result, we also shared the desire to survive the winters of isolation, power outages and harsh west coast storms. Some of us are drawn to Bamfield, some driven to it. Some long for a simpler existence, some are social outcasts, others are retired, or entrepreneurs, and still others have been there for many generations; the reasons that their families originally called it home, long since forgotten.
We form a motley and mismatched extended family. All ages, ethnicities, denominations, opinions (of which there are many), and abilities exist within our community and because of that we function and we have identity. I grew up learning from people I may never otherwise have had the opportunity to meet and I enjoyed a sense of safety that came from many caring eyes, which was great unless you were trying to get into the community hall dance underage.
The Bakery: Hangry
Hypoglycemia goes by a few different names; ‘hitting the wall’ conjures up images of men running marathons in headbands and short shorts circa 1982 and ‘bonking’ makes me think of people in spandex slumped over their handlebars trying to remember where they went wrong with their carb intake from the night before. Neither of these two descriptions are what I experience. I get ‘hangry’.
Hangry is described on the Internet as ‘a state of anger caused by lack of food; hunger causing a negative change in emotional state.’ Well ‘a negative change in emotional state’ may be an understatement. I have shredded my share of purple pants while attempting to throw my bike in a hulk-like rage. At best, when my blood sugar drops, I sever all communication and focus the energy I have left, drawn from the depths of my glycogen stores, to find food. I communicate only in grunts, head nods and spontaneous tears until I am fed. I, all but, foam at the mouth.
The Bakery: Can You Keep a Secret?
Secret trails are something of a currency in the bike world and about the only thing that makes our sport remotely punk rock. We trade them for cool points or hold on to them, dropping subtle hints in conversations to elevate our perceived social status. “If you don’t know about it, you shouldn’t ride it.” Mountain biking is not sexy, so secret trails cascading down our mountains like the phantom octopi tentacles is about all we’ve got. People go hunting for them like treasure. And develop feelings of ownership, much like Gollum and his precious. Joeys shouldn’t ride them, but they always do. So who tells them where they are and why shouldn’t they? Who actually owns a secret trail? With hands raised, there is the trail builder who doesn’t own the land, the landowner who didn’t build the trail, the inner circle of the first riders to know about it (who didn’t build the trail nor do they own the land) and the community as a whole.
The Bakery: Next Generation Tippie
This week I had the opportunity to sit down with Jessamy Carmen Tippie, the heiress to the Brett Tippie legacy and 4-year-old mountain biker. She was the Lance to my Oprah, but unlike Mr. Armstrong she wasn’t afraid to answer the hard questions as we tackled everything from wheel size to unicorns.
The Bakery: Be the Change
I recently had the opportunity to sit on a panel about the future of women in mountain biking at the MTB Tourism Symposium in Sooke, British Columbia. The answer to many of the questions posed was simply that we need more women to ride. So how to do get more women involved? Some of us are fortunate to live in areas where women’s riding clubs, groups and lessons are readily available, where it feels like you see just as many women out for a ride as men, but to affect change we need to close the gap on the percentage split between male and female riders. To do this we need to encourage grassroots action, each of us needs to participate. While more women are joining the sport, the number of people mountain biking is also growing in general, and so we are only maintaining our percentages.
The Bakery: Chasing the Dragon
When it comes to sports I’m not a natural. My first few months of mountain biking were filled with frustration, crashes and temper tantrums. If my bike hadn’t been so heavy I probably would have thrown it at least 10 times. And I definitely tried to sell it once. I never thought much of the learning process. I was either good at something or I didn’t do it; this is the reason I barely passed math in high school. Leave the ‘jocking’ for the jocks, I’ll be over here writing art history papers, thanks. Not until I tried mountain biking did I realize how addicting it can be to conquer the things that challenge you the most.
The Bakery: Why Do You Hate My Vagina?
Dear Mr. Motorist,
Our paths crossed yesterday, almost literally, as I was biking home. You were driving a big old truck with an oversized, tarped load in the back. I was riding my road bike. I shoulder-checked for traffic, signaled, and moved out into the lane to ride about twenty feet and avoid a grate through a narrow section before yielding the road back to motorists. You sped up beside me and passed me. In doing so, with your big truck and overhanging load, you squeezed me to the side, forcing me to hit the grate. In all fairness, it was my choice; I chose to hit it over being hit by you.
I wasn’t prepared to hit the grate and when I did I was pitched forward onto my top tube, causing an unfortunate collision between my vagina and my bike. I can only imagine that causing me to box myself was your sole intention; clearly you could not have been so absent-minded or ignorant while driving that you would accidentally cause bodily harm to a cyclist.
The Bakery: Child’s Play
“We were not the valedictorians of the school; we were the guys that would have been chosen ‘last to succeed.’ And for some reason by doing something everyone said was just a waste of time, we ended up influencing kids all around the world.”
Last winter, when the snow hit the trails, I tried to love winter and accept the void of biking by learning how to snowboard. I went through a lot of Fireball Whisky, some tears, and one boyfriend. This year I looked for a different approach to the snowy months and stumbled upon a new ‘sport’.
And more Fireball.
The Bakery: Soul Sucker
As a kid out at a local race how excited were you when your hero showed up to compete? USA Cycling CEO, Steve Johnson, doesn’t appear to think you should have that experience. In fact USA Cycling, while claiming that their mission “is to achieve sustained success in international cycling competition and grow competitive cycling in America”, is essentially grinding out their cigarette butt on the very grassroots events that actually contribute to growing cycling.
Their strong arm tactics of threatening emails, leveraging fines and suspensions, and cock blocking local races from having pros in attendance is more reminiscent of Carlo Gambino shaking down shops for protection money, than it is of an organization meant to be looking out for our sport.
The Bakery: The Three Universal Truths of Trail Building
Spending some time in the forest with a man named Digger, a radio playing classic rock, and some hand tools taught me more about Buddhism that my Eastern Religion class ever did. Whether he knows it or not, Digger has achieved a spiritual understanding that the rest of the world is throwing money at yoga retreats to try and find.
The Bakery: Must Love Bikes
Until recently, unless you were an entrepreneur or a retired athlete, finding a sustainable career in the mountain bike industry was like finding a unicorn; a unicorn that paid minimum wage, but let you crack a beer at noon at your desk.
Slowly opportunities have materialized and with them there is a growing need to hire experienced personnel from other industries. We are starting to see more and more outsiders with the necessary skills, but lack of passion for our culture. So, how important is it that our help-wanted ads include “must love bikes”?
The Bakery: Wear a F*cking Helmet, You F*cktard!
I am not one to tell other people how to live their lives. I am usually the supportive friend, the one you go to when you know your life decision is terrible but you want someone to agree with you. Recently, however, I have had to restrain myself from opening my living room window, leaning out in my pajamas with mascara under my eyes and shaking my fist like an old person while yelling at the douchebag riding by without a helmet on. He rides by every morning and I have actually thought about lying in wait and jumping out from behind a parked car to push him off his bike just to prove my point.
What’s my point?
Riding without a helmet is a total douche move.
The Bakery: Don’t Call it A Comeback
Tara Llanes is the Queen of Comebacks. When you hear her name most people will think of the 4-Cross crash that left her with a complete spinal cord injury, but there is a lot more to what Tara has overcome and what she has done to stay connected to an industry that she calls family.
Tara fell in love with bikes when she was eleven, the year she started racing BMX. Eight years later she made the switch to mountain biking and shortly thereafter won gold at the X-Games. In her first year of racing professionally Tara crashed and broke her collarbone at Nationals in Washington. In an interview in 2000 Tara expressed that she thought no one would want to sponsor her after that, little did she know that the support of her bike family would see her though a lot more than a broken collarbone, or three.