My big date of the year, Wente, is just around the corner and I’ve been reflecting on why I love such a hard event so much. In considering what I love, I’m revisiting last year’s event.
Wente is held at a Boy Scout—er—Scouts of American camp outside of Willits, California. While there are people who drive up that morning and drive home after the race is over, I like most entrants, make a weekend of it, camping at the scout reservation Friday and Saturday nights and doing a ride on Sunday before leaving.
As I’ve mentioned here and on the Paceline, Wente is put on by Bike Monkey and isn’t like other mountain bike races. It’s a shortened 24-hour race. It’s only eight hours long, which is silly long, but doable. The start comes at 8 am. Riders have eight hours to start new laps and they have until 5 pm—nine hours, not eight—so long as they start their last lap before 4 o’clock.
The course at Wente is unlike other race courses I’ve done because there’s but a short dirt road section and almost the entire rest of the course is singletrack and flowy singletrack at that. Several sections feature stretches that can be pumped and every single switchback on the course is bermed. The race is an 8-mile loop with about 1200 feet of climbing per lap, which puts it in the 150-feet per mile territory. That’s a lot of climbing. I can say that I’ve never ridden a course that is more technically challenging, nor one that is more entertaining. Each of the sections features their own rhythm and upon exiting the singletrack for the access road run back to the start/finish, people are cheering and blasting good tunes. There’s a several-hundred yard gauntlet of racers, families and off-leash kids screaming, shaking cowbells, and occasionally spraying the racers with hoses.
It was a gorgeous day for the race. Mostly clear skies in the morning, temperatures in the high 50s at the start and not much humidity. I lined up at the back of the field because I knew I wanted to roll out easy and not get caught up in the excitement—something for which I’ve proven I’m quite adept.
Do you remember in The Empire Strikes Back when Han Solo goes to make the jump to lightspeed in the Millenium Falcon and it makes this sad trombone sound of shoomp shoomp shoomp?
Well, that’s what my legs did. There was nothing there. It was as if I had no muscles, just an aerobic system.
I’ve had this happen before on big days. Two years in a row at Levi’s GranFondo my legs didn’t turn on until about mile 60. My working theory is that I didn’t get my recovery right prior to the race. Or, more accurately, I think I recovered well enough that my legs got, as some pros call it, “sleepy.” I needed some hard efforts the day before to get me ready.
I took short breaks to fuel up between my first three laps. After my third lap, I sat down on a camp chair and ate a leisurely lunch. When I went out for my fourth lap, despite the fatigue of 24 miles in my legs, they actually felt better. I had at least some strength.
The question is, of course, how many laps did I get. Did I go out again, and the answer is yes. I took another longish break—maybe 45 minutes and then went out for a fifth lap. And on my fifth lap, my legs felt even better. I had more strength then than I did on any other lap. It was the darndest thing.
Between my slow lap times and my two long breaks there wasn’t time for a sixth lap. Had my legs felt on my first lap they way they felt on my fifth lap, I’d have gotten six, which I know is the opposite of what most people would say. Everyone wants to banish fatigue and ride every lap like their first. If I could have ridden each lap like my last, I’d have done one more lap.
The trails are engineered by Kevin Smallman—more on him in a sec. What he has done in building a trail network there is remarkable. Most of the trail complex lies within thick forest and he manages to exploit every feature of the land to lay down these ribbons of trail that are more fun than anything at Disneyland. What’s surprising, though, is that the camp has a surprisingly diverse array of terrain, including sun-baked and decaying volcanic rock, stands of manzanitas and at the top of the big climb a view across the valley which is a patchwork of farmland, vineyards and the compact grid of the town of Willits.
Honestly, even though I didn’t do all I’d hoped to, I’m really happy with the day. I had fun. I saw friends, rode amazing trails, ate yummy snacks and spent roughly 48 hours in nature. It’s a win on every level.
There was a full moon that night and staring at the moonlight reflecting on the lake there at the camp I was filled with a sense of wonder for the world we live in and was glad to be alive to experience that place, those people and that event. I was 34th of 45 racers, but I’m telling you, I won.
I need to give a shoutout to Kevin Smallman who is both the brains and the braun behind the trail system at Wente. That’s Kevin, above, getting props from Bike Monkey bossman Carlos Perez. Kevin was a scout who went there as a kid, then became a counselor there and talked the leadership into letting him build his first trail in 2005. What he has done is remarkable. He’s put in thousands of hours building trails for no reason other than he loves mountain biking.
There’s little need to take my word for how much fun this event is. Consider the fact that the event sells out each year (how many races sell out?), and this year has been sold out at least since February.
On Sunday, before driving home, my girlfriend, Jennifer, and I went and rode one of Kevin’s other creations, a trail called “Best Day So Far.” Sometimes there is truth in advertising.
Images: TOPO Collective/Bike Monkey