So last weekend was Wente, the event I’ve been looking forward to since, well, since last June. My girlfriend, Jennifer, flew down from Seattle and we packed two bikes, a sleeping bag for two, plus pad, a cooler with 20 lbs. of ice and ten water bottles, give or take, nine servings of the Feed Zone Portables baked pasta, a folding camp chair for two, bike tools, head lamps, another light to hang in the tent, though not a tent, four sets of bib shorts, four base layers, three jerseys, arm warmers, a vest, a half dozen pair of socks, some street clothes, a down jacket, GPS unit, a couple of helmets, three pairs of glasses, three pairs of cycling shoes—I brought a backup pair, sunscreen, allergy drugs, a few beers, a good bottle of wine and some chocolate chip cookies.
I was, in a word, prepared. At least, I’d packed everything I might need for the weekend. And a weekend it would be. Because the format of the race allows for nine hours of riding, most people drive up on Friday, camp, then race all day Saturday, spend a second night in a tent—either one they brought or one of the platform tents that dot the campsites—and on Sunday morning, pack up and maybe squeeze in a ride on some of the other trails, or another dip in the lake. A number of people bring camp stoves and prepare their own food, but I and many others opt to go for Scout mess-hall food.
When we got up there Friday afternoon, we went for a ride on the last portion of the course that is largely in redwood forest. I didn’t feel great, but I figured that was just from my legs being sleepy due to me recovering from a big ride two weeks before.
I’m not sure if the course is the primary draw for everyone, but it can at least be called the catalyst. These are trails that have been built over the better part of 20 years, crafted by a volunteer crew led by former camp counselor (and Eagle Scout) Kevin Smallman (who took sixth in the pro men’s category with nine laps). With the exception of the opening climb and the portion of the gravel road that racers ride near the start/finish, the trails flow and wind in a graceful, almost musical way. Smallman has an eye for how to find the most fun line across terrain. The loop is technically easy, which gives racers plenty of opportunity to go hard. As many say, the course is simply fun.
The format of the race is also a big part of what makes it fun. Think of its as a 24-hour race, but without the sleep loss and leaving time to have fun. It’s considered an eight-hour race, but it’s more than that. The race begins at 8:00 am Saturday. Racers begin doing laps of the roughly 8 mi. course. They can continue to start new laps until 4:00 pm, but they have to finish their final lap before 5:00 pm. In addition to all the usual categories, There are two person and three-person teams, even teams of single-speeders. I was doing it solo because I want to see just how much I can do.
When the race started at 8:00 Saturday morning, my legs, it turns out, were nowhere to be found. Last year, I didn’t have great legs, but I managed to cover five laps. It’s weird: Last year my aerobic system was good, but my legs had no power. This year it was the opposite. My legs felt okay, though not great and my aerobic system was AWOL.
I managed three laps before I just gave up. I’ve never in my life shown up to an event been more caught off guard by my lack of form. The cause isn’t hard to guess, though. I rode almost every legal trail in Annandel—I left out Two Quarry because it’s a brutal climb that came late in my route. Due to timing issues, I did the ride two weeks after Boggs and two weeks before Wente. I simply wasn’t recovered because I didn’t anticipate that it would take me more than two weeks to recover from a 40 mile mountain bike ride. There was a time when I’d have recovered from an effort like that in three days.
I was, in a word, surprised.
Here’s the thing: My plan was blown. I wasn’t going to come anywhere near my goal. And it was hard to watch people going so hard and to feel so tired I wanted to take a nap.
It’s the stuff of an epically bad weekend. But I was in a great place, surrounded by great people. I had no responsibilities to anyone, so I didn’t need to worry about picking up kids or cooking for them. I wasn’t going to have the day I wanted, but allowing the situation to deteriorate into a bad time wasn’t necessary. I knew I could make a choice, the choice being to have a good time.
So I had a Pliny, got a shower and watched the race. And afterward, I congratulated my friends who had great rides—more than a few stood on the podium.
Noelle Johnson, left, and Melissa Wonders, right, each took third in the 50+ and 40+ women’s categories, respectively.
Those are my impressions, why I love the event. What is remarkable about the event is the way it draws people. I know of duos and trios who come together to have fun, do a few laps, drink some beers and swim in the lake (but maybe not at the same time). I also know teams of racers who come to crush as many laps as possible. This year, there were more high school kids who came up through NICA (some of the NICA teams had a presence) than I’ve seen at any other event. And that was key to another dimension of the event: Families. As much as the event draws the stereotype of the mountain biker, it also draws groups of families.
The other piece of this puzzle that Bike Monkey creates owes to the isolated bubble that the event exists within. Most people spend the whole weekend there. The start/finish is set up in front of the dining hall and registration and the hub of all the promoter’s activities is right outside the dining hall. There exists within Wente a sense of community that I’ve experienced nowhere else. Carlos Perez, Bike Monkey’s founder and CEO, is known for a stoic exterior, but as an announcer he sets the tone for the event, and does it without needless hype.
Sunday, we packed up and then went for a ride on some other trails, including once called Best Day So Far.
There are a couple of lessons to learn from the weekend: I’m older and I take longer to recover. Yuck. I can say I had a good weekend. Of course, I’d be lying if I said I was fully at peace with my performance. But my bigger takeaway is that mountain biking can unite a tribe too diverse to be defined by a cliche. I’ve always believed cycling could do that, finally seeing it in action was a surprise.
Images courtesy Bike Monkey