I intended to merely observe the 2007 Six-Pack Invitational—a rambunctious, season-ending finale to the renegade downhill series in Harrisonburg, Virginia—but then someone handed me a lukewarm can of Natural Light and a laminated number plate with an illustration of Jesus on it.
It was the eve of the Invitational, and about 40 of us were packed into an inelegant home occupied by James Madison students/mountain bikers. Tattered “Big Lebowski” and “Lord of the Rings” posters hung above Salvation Army sofas, and as I scanned the group surrounding me, I knew I wasn’t getting out of this.
Blackwater Bikes has been a fixture on the West Virginia mountain biking scene for more than 20 years.
Mikler
Sure enough, my polite protests were brushed off, and before I knew it the pre-race seeding ceremonies were underway. First, the course had to be selected. The names of four trails were thrown into a hat, and one was pulled. Judging from the reaction, it was a bit of a surprise—a trail called Groom’s Ridge, which hadn’t been used for the Six Pack series in quite some time. The two-mile descent, hidden in the deep woods of nearby George Washington National Forest, was said to be a screamer: steep, rocky and not much in the way of obstacles to slow you down.
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Next, about 60 names were thrown into the hat, mine included. These were the starters for the next day’s race; as the names were drawn, someone scribbled the start order on a big yellow posterboard display. I drew number 37.
Fall is road trip season for the Bike magazine staff as we scour all corners of the globe to infiltrate the most happening places to ride. This quest landed me here in Harrisonburg, where local riders including Trek-Volkswagen pro Jeremiah Bishop, taking time out from his quest to qualify for the 2008 Olympics, showed us what the mountain bike life is all about here on the eastern edge of the Appalachian Mountains.
Over the span of five days, Bishop and his Trek teammates Sue Haywood and Jeff Schalk dragged Bike contributing photographer Chris Milliman and me on some of the most rugged, rough, remote and astonishingly beautiful trails imaginable.
Our trip got off to a shaky start after a few travel snafus led to Chris and I shuttling between several different airports in the Washington D.C. area after midnight. We finally made it into Virginia around 1:30 a.m., and after a bit of sleep at a roadside motel, we piloted our family truckster rental minivan into Harrisonburg to get down to business. (By the way, I’d like to nominate flat-folding minivan seats as one of the best innovations for traveling mountain bikers. No longer do we have to remove the rear seats and stash them in the woods to load all our gear.)
After rolling into Harrisonburg, we hit Mr. J’s for the breakfast special (you should too, if you’re ever there), unpacked and built up the bikes, then bee-lined it for the Shenandoah Mountain trail. Four hours on a certified IMBA epic, with the autumn sun shining and the leaves blazing, was enough to cure any amount of jet lag. The Shenandoah was a classic starter course to showcase much of what’s available to the fortunate few who have discovered these trails. Bishop, a tireless adventurer with a Lewis & Clark knowledge of these uncharted territories, delighted in taking us deep into the backcountry.
Do unto others… To earn this number plate, you gotta do your trailwork.
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