08/21/2008

Disbelief A first timer rides the Shore James Stauffer

I surfed a lot growing up in Southern California. In fact I surfed almost every day. My friends surfed, and their friends surfed, and so did my dad and my two brothers. It’s a sport that can be all-consuming though and I avoided any activity that had the potential getting in the way of my almost daily session. But change, after all, is inevitable.

After twenty some odd years of living in Southern California my parents - both Canadians - had had enough of it. SoCal’s pollution, materialism, congestion, etc. had become unbearable and so they relocated north; stopping just shy of the border in a little city called Bellingham. Previously, and coinciding with their migratory decision, I had enrolled at Vancouver Film School and hence was along for the ride.

During this period of transition – from Bellingham to Vancouver – I was introduced to mountain biking - but I wanted nothing to do with it. I was determined to do nothing in the mountains until snowboarding season, but my Dad’s enthusiasm persuaded me otherwise.

Perhaps it’s poor genetics or maybe all the paddling in my youth had left my legs in a state of atrophy. Regardless, my chicken legs caused me to suffer for my first rides. But I got through it and after one week of riding Mt. Galbraith I was hooked. I bought a used bike - a Norco Bigfoot. And then not long after a full suspension 2005 Norco Six. I rode Mt. Galbraith for another month. And then it was off to Vancouver to start school.

James Stauffer inspecting the new handiwork on Natural High. Photo ~ Joel Stauffer

No sooner had I put my bed together in my new Vancouver digs than I was taking exit 21, (or was it 22?) to Fromme Mountain. Of course I got lost, parked where I shouldn’t have, and then like a sherpa had to lug my bike up to the top. While I pushed, I became aware of the scope of my surroundings. It was a novel feeling, unlike anything I ever felt on Galbraith or in California. Without getting too deep, let’s just say I felt the inner-peace of being an insignificant mountain biker in a large forest.

Further along and still lost, I bumped into young couple and they suggested Pipeline as a good beginner trail. They looked sincere and their bikes were small and cross country-ish, so I took their advice and started pedaling nervously up the switchbacks. I had heard many horrific accounts of North Shore riding, some no doubt embellished, but others objectively confirmed as scarily accurate. But I concluded; if they can do it so can I.

James on a roll. Photo ~ Joel Stauffer

I think I enjoyed my first ride on the North Shore, specifically Pipeline, more in retrospect. That is to say, I was too tense to really enjoy myself the first time. And now as I recreate that ride in my mind I realize the whole day could be broken down into a two thoughts that were constantly running through my mind. They were: “Wow, I have never seen anything like this before, it looks dangerous,” and, “wow, I can’t believe I just rode down that, that was really dangerous.” In short, I rode in a state of disbelief - astonished at what I had just ridden down or over. Every couple of minutes I had to stop to regroup and collect my thoughts.

Pipeline was steep near the beginning, complete with rocky chutes which I slid down despite clawing my brakes, but the roots were the most challenging feature. Not infrequently, and usually on a sharp descent, the trail simply turned into a cluster roots. These sections of tangled roots would send my wheels wiggling off in a thousand different directions. It was eerie realizing how little control I had in those situations.

Apparently surfers don't wear pads or gloves when they take up mountain biking. Photo ~ Joel Stauffer

I don’t think my tires ever left the ground that ride but it would be a mistake to associate a lack of airtime with a corresponding lack of difficulty. The whole day was kind of a blur, and I left North Vancouver happy but drained and with plans for a prompt return. Then school started, and I didn’t ride again for two more months but I when I returned I wasn’t alone.

After my sabbatical, Joel my younger brother moved up from California and I quickly convinced him to try mountain biking. It was off to Fromme again.

We had no real plan of attack, but after consulting some eight-year old locals we settled on Griffen. For the record, my brother Joel is a complete beginner. We switched bikes almost immediately - the Fox Vanilla fork coupled with narrower tires made the Norco Bigfoot sketchy for a total beginner.

Joel Stauffer tastes the loam on Lower Griffen. Photo ~ James Stauffer

We took a long time getting down, stopping and starting as we walked the challenging parts, and re-rode the sections we thought were particularly fun. One memorable spot was on lower Griffen - an L- shaped log ride two to three feet off the ground. After a couple of false starts and some words of encouragement, Joel became an example of what momentum combined with commitment can overcome as he charged the log ride. He would have made it to but he doubted himself, slamming on the brakes and abruptly ending his moment of glory.

Despite crashing Joel had a favourable impression of Fromme, describing it as rooty, rocky, and with nice flow in certain areas - but he felt intimidated as a beginner. While Joel found it challenging he was also improving at a faster rate than I did at his stage. It may have something to do with riding a full suspension bike, but I think the terrain was forcing him to improve. And then it was over, once up and once down.

The North Shore is at the forefront of mountain biking, coincidentally, similar to surfing and the North Shore of Hawaii - both are difficult for a beginner to enjoy right away but each offers rewards not found elsewhere.

Pint-sized tour guides. Photo ~ James Stauffer

One of my friends criticized Fromme as lacking flow, and while I understand his point, I disagree. I believe an excellent rider can make Fromme trails flow as well as any another. Once one reaches a certain skill level, flow can be achieved.

Flowing on a trail like Natural High is a goal of mine. As of right now, on Pipeline and other trails of similar difficulty, I feel like I am on a roller coaster gripping a jack hammer while hanging on for dear life. Could all of that be avoided if I picked a better line or when I gain more experience? Only time will tell.

The feeling of insignificance that washed over me on my first push up the mountain is still there today but it’s accompanied by some added spice: now I feel like I am a part of something. This past week as I watched the next generation practicing stunts at a North Shore mountain biking camp it really hit home. Mountain biking on the North Shore is a big deal - a source of pride and community involvement.

I feel blessed to live in Vancouver. I only wish the North Shore was closer.

James Stauffer

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More of the fine work Ian Coilings and Rob Hlus have been doing on Natural High. Great work lads! Photo ~ Joel Stauffer