What Might Happen at a Stage Race
By: Marshall Opel
It might happen on the third morning while walking to breakfast. Or maybe it’s when we look around and realize we’re drafting the same, familiar wheel as the day before. We’re grooving, and so are they.
Something clicks, we can feel it. Our day, and the day of everyone around us, is defined by a new, simple routine. Wake up, eat, ride, relax, eat, relax some more, sleep, repeat.
Life in a stage race involves a mixture of comforts and novelty. Food, shelter, logistics, all taken care of. Soaking up the experience of the quiet forest roads that snake through the heart of the Kootenay Mountains? That part is on us riders.
With the others.
People like us love shared experiences. We love to ride and we know that excited anticipation of a big day ahead. We rejoice in the feeling of accomplishment, shifting down our cassette over the top of a climb, ready for a downhill well earned. At the end of the day, we rack our bikes and exchange our stories from the dusty trail behind us. Each of us contributes to the essence of what’s being created. It’s bigger than any one of us but we can feel that yes, we’re a part of it.
We’ll have traveled more than 400km from where we started in Panorama, all of it under our own power. Within that distance, we’re likely to have had a full spectrum experience. Complete with moments of exhilarating highs and at least a few challenging lows. Both ends will be the stories that come to mind when someone back home asks us, “So, how was it?”
We’ll get to know people and find ourselves talking about ways to meet up outside of the ride. At some point, probably on day four, we might think about how we don’t want this to end. We’ll wonder what it would be like to live like this for longer. Damn, we would get strong.
We’ll be suprised by our body's adaptability to our new routine. We might find ourselves feeling better than we did at the start. On sa distant but somehow known level, packing up and moving will feel natural like we’ve done this before.
You can’t take it with you.
At some point, we’ll want to deplete our reserves. To go ‘all in’ by going ‘all out.’ We’ll have been holding back, patiently restraining ourselves by measuring our efforts. But we’ll want to see what’s possible if we really let ‘er rip. Maybe we’ll rally with others around us. Or find ourselves alone with our thoughts and feel that the time is right. Let’s empty the tank.
We’ll find ourselves noticing that our surroundings have changed as we move ever southword. Throughout the four days we’ll want to take moments for deep breathes, soaking in the place and the uniqueness of our temporary existence. We might look around and feel a significant insignificance to the mountains that surround us.
For those who make the trip, there’s a togetherness that we can be a part of. Don’t miss out.
