ACTIVE LIVING

I’m not a religious person, but I go to church – sporting a helmet, shin pads and goggles

by Andrew Findlay

Whenever I get bogged down with a piece of writing and tire of the computer screen, I hop on a mountain bike and pedal out my backyard to the Puntledge River and the head of a trail called Twisted Sister. This is my church. Instead of a preacher, pulpit and pews, there is the rush of the river, the throaty squawk of a raven echoing through hemlocks and red cedars festooned in wolf lichen and old man’s beard, and a ribbon of dirt winding through the forest. I know each log, rock and bridge intimately because I attend mass frequently.

A few years ago I adopted this trail, which had fallen into disuse since being scratched out of the forest by someone else. I cleared deadfall, carved out switchbacks where needed, raised bridges over small tributary creeks and built new sections of trail. I enjoyed being in the woods alone, doing something physical with my hands. In the years since, Twisted Sister has also been adopted by the “River Rats,” a group of Comox Valley retirees who happen to be biking fanatics who love building trail. They do a beautiful job of it, and Twisted Sister is an obvious beneficiary of their skills.

That’s one of the things I love about riding a mountain bike, beyond the buzz and adrenalin – the anarchic nature of the community that grows up around the sport. 

That’s one of the things I love about riding a mountain bike, beyond the buzz and adrenalin – the anarchic nature of the community that grows up around the sport. When mountain bikers want a new trail, they gather friends, some tools and head out to build one. They generally don’t ask permission, because doing so invites discussions about liability and legality. (I’m not advocating disrespect for the land or private property rights, here, just simply acknowledging that, for better or worse, volunteers building renegade trails is traditionally how communities develop a mountain biking scene.) Which is why Vancouver Island’s Comox Valley is now such a riding destination – along with Cumberland’s extensive network of trails splayed across the Cumberland Community Forest, a 60-hectare chunk of land purchased through donations and dogged fundraising efforts back in 2005, and the Island’s Forbidden Plateau and Comox Lake’s labyrinth of technical single track.

Several years ago, the B.C. government finally woke up to the fact that the province is riddled with a treasure-trove of world class mountain bike trails; albeit most of them illegitimate, making it difficult to market them as a tourism product. Surprisingly, countries such as the United Kingdom are paving the way when it comes to promoting off-road riding. The forestry commission of Great Britain, for example, has already established the “7 stanes” in southern Scotland, a series of mountain bike parks serviced by trailhead shops and cafes. But the good news for riders here is that B.C. has taken note of these efforts and is following suit with its Provincial Trails Strategy, an effort by B.C.’s tourism, culture and arts ministry to develop protocols around new trail development and legitimize existing ones. And to this end, pilot projects are now underway in a number of B.C. communities, including Williams Lake, Squamish and Nelson.

Of course, as with most things involving government, the Provincial Trails Strategy is bureaucratic and a kind of anathema to the anarchic spirit of the sport. But it’s also a progressive attempt to better harness the tourism potential of mountain biking.

Of course, as with most things involving government, the Provincial Trails Strategy is bureaucratic and a kind of anathema to the anarchic spirit of the sport. But it’s also a progressive attempt to better harness the tourism potential of mountain biking, and similar initiatives will likely follow suit. In concert with the Trails Strategy, for example, the Vancouver-based Western Canada Mountain Bike Tourism Associations is launching a provincial marketing strategy designed to help B.C. become “the next big thing in mountain bike tourism.” Meanwhile, renegade trailsmiths will continue their work, in their quiet unassuming way, building trails such as “Twisted Sister” and the foundation of the sport in B.C.