During all my years in Whistler, I’ve mostly kept racing and competition at arm’s length. I had certainly never considered entering a marathon XC race. I remember interviewing participants in the Nimby 50 many years ago and wondering why rank-and-file riders wanted to put themselves through such a physical and mental ordeal on their weekend.
A chance chairlift ride on a powder day back in March of this year with my friend Quinn Lanzon started a reversal on that thinking. After a couple minutes of ski chat, he got down to business.
“So, are you doing my race this summer?” he asked.
“Uh, I thought it was sold out already?” I replied, somewhat caught off guard, grasping for an out.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you in,” he said with a wry smile, leaving me no way to wriggle out of this one.
“Alright, done,” I said, acting as if I was not intimidated at all by what I had just signed up for.
Lanzon’s race is the annual Back Forty, the Whistler Off Road Cycling Association’s (WORCA) biggest race of the year in length, in elevation gain, and in participation. The 2024 event took place June 8 in unusually warm and sunny conditions (it normally rains every year on race day), with more than 270 riders lining up to ride three timed XC segments on Whistler trails, totalling 28 kilometres and more than 1,300 metres of climbing. Between segments, riders are treated to aid stations where they can gather themselves, rehydrate and refuel with some snacks. Dozens of volunteers marshal the course and help with race logistics, as well as managing an après event at Meadow Park for hundreds of exhausted mountain bikers.
My preparation for the Back Forty started about eight weeks before race day. I made sure to frequent my indoor trainer to build up my fitness, and a one-day spring ski tour around the Spearhead Traverse helped get my mental state ready for hanging out in the pain cave. Most Whistler bike trails were covered in snow in March and April, so I drove out to Pemberton to sharpen my early season single-track skills. In the three weeks before the race, I pre-rode each segment of the Back Forty course so I knew what to expect and when. A friend showed me a couple of faster lines on Pura Vida. I attempted—unsuccessfully—to make it up the Westside’s infamous Twenty-Seven Switchbacks climb without stopping. I considered my line choice on the rooted, slippery chute on Lower Billy Epic, where I ran into another rider (likely from out of town) who had signed up for the Back Forty and—after trying to negotiate the double black trail on his pinner XC bike—told me he wasn’t going to do the race anymore.
While I felt prepared, I knew it was going to be hard. And that’s the whole point of the Back Forty.
The Stage 1 start on Cheakamus trails was self-seeded, so I took my place in the second wave of riders, somewhere at the back of the fast guys. I managed the climb up to HiHi via See Colours and Puke without vomiting, which I considered my first victory of the day. A few forced and unforced errors on the climbs in Tunnel Vision slowed me down a bit, but I was in a good place climbing back up Single Track Mind before a decent run down AM/PM.
With the longest stage done, after a brief refuel next to Forecast Coffee I began the grind up the Flank. The wide climbing trail made passing (and getting passed) easy without anyone needing to pullover and break their pace. I dropped into Pura Vida thankful the roots were not glazed wet and trying to stay as high as I could on the awkward corners. After tricky climbs on Three Birds, I noticed my left quad beginning to cramp. I finished Stage 2 in just under an hour and cooled down in the shade on Stonebridge Drive before pedalling up to the start of Stage 3 on Beaver Pass.
Veterans of the Back Forty know Twenty-Seven Switchbacks all too well. It’s an old-school climb to access the trails off the northern end of the Rainbow-Sproatt Flank, built back when Whistler mountain bikers were tougher. While a great trail for e-bikes, during the Back Forty it resembles a scene out of The Walking Dead with riders pedalling, stopping and shambling their way up the final big climb of the day. My legs gave out several times, and I joined the shambling procession before mustering enough grit to get back on my bike.
What felt like hours later, I ran into Lee Lau, who was marshalling at the top of Billy Epic. The familiar face lifted my spirits and the heavy metal blaring out of his portable speaker was the perfect segue into the final big descent.
The bottom of Billy is where everyone thinks the race ends, but one final climb awaited us. The cramps in my left leg were so bad I couldn’t stand on my pedals anymore, so I was forced to sit on my saddle and bobble over roots and rocks. A spectator yelled I was a few hundred metres from the finish line so I dug deep into whatever determination I had left.
Then, it was over. I hit my stretch goal of under three hours total time, placing mid-pack in 89th place in Men’s Open.
“[The Back Forty] gives the elite racers a course they don’t often get to ride, and it gives everyone else a course where finishing is an accomplishment in itself,” said Lanzon once we had both collected ourselves after the race. “I can appreciate what everyone goes through. It’s hard. Like, really hard.”
After organizing the event for the past five years, making adjustments to the course and dialling in the planning and logistics, Lanzon—who has served for years on WORCA’s board of directors—has officially handed the reigns of the Back Forty to WORCA’s events team led by race director Kat Pohran. That meant he could race in the 2024 event himself and ride the same ecstatic highs and crushing lows that define the marathon XC experience.
I haven’t decided whether I’ll do the Back Forty again next year. It was a great way to re-enter mountain biking after a couple of years of injuries, and I feel more than ready for any alpine epic this summer.
But I’m also not in a rush to return to that Stage 3 purgatory. So I’ll call it 50/50 at this point.
Vince Shuley is now ready to resume pedalling. For questions, comments or suggestions for The Outsider, email [email protected] or Instagram @whis_vince.
