Words by Ryan Taylor
Ryan Taylor is writing about his escape from the rat race of life at Singletrack 6 stage race in British Columbia. His race reports are interlaced with personal observations and dashes of humor. If you missed the first installment, check it out here.
Rossland stirred to life this morning for the first day of Singletrack 6. The oddballs and weirdos that are mountain bikers crept out of the woodwork to start the first day of this near-life experience.
Tall socks and flat brimmed hats littered the landscape. The scene resembled a fitness convention/skater punk/zombie apocalypse more than a bike race.
The race started as every race does – fast and sketchy, with everyone panicking to get good position for the entrance to the singletrack. We were greeted with climbs and a descent that was so dusty the only way you could see or breathe was if you were a 5th generation coal miner.
It was around the midway point when stuff got weird. Miles and miles of BC Forest Service road pointed up to the searing summer sun and my thoughts wandered into a dark place. We mountain bikers have all been there – you are literally climbing for hours and you start to think…
“This is stupid.” “Why am I doing this?” “Why the fuck is this so hard?” “Fuck this!”
“This trail is stupid.”