Endless Summer
In Search of the World’s Best Rides
by Mike Brcic, Sacred Rides Mountain Bike Holidays
I am a born-and-raised Canadian, as proud of my country as I am of Wayne Gretzky, the CanadArm©, and maple syrup. Canada is, to me, one of the best places in the world to live: billions of acres of wilderness, only a few million people to share it with, and the best mountain bike trails on the planet. But there’s one small thing that keeps Canada from being the perfect place to live: that godforsaken season we call winter, which in Canada lasts from about late August to early July.
When Old Man Winter first rears his ugly head I always cringe at the thought of the coming months of house-high snowdrifts, cold arctic winds speeding across the frozen prairies, and 4 hours of daylight. But mostly I cringe because it means my mountain bike has to hibernate until spring.
And that’s how it was for many years. Pack up the bike come November, get out the skis, and grin and bear it until the spring thaw. Until recently. I’ve found a way to keep the ‘endless summer’ going, like the surfer-dudes in the 1966 silver screen classic of the same name. I now travel the world every winter, mountain bike in tow, in search of the perfect ride, the two-wheeled equivalent of the perfect wave. As the owner of Sacred Rides Mountain Bike Holidays, I’ve spent the better part of the last 3 winters in search of the best winter rides around the world. The Southern U.S., Europe, Central America, South America, New Zealand… they all are stops along the journey, blessed escapes to keep the shivers at bay and the vitamin D flowing.
My first experience with tropical mountain biking came in November of 2006 (as the snow was beginning to fly fast and furious back in Canada), on a whim and an invitation from a Peruvian fellow named ‘Wayo.’ “You have to check out the mountain biking in the Peruvian Andes. It will blow your mind!” read his e-mail. I booked my ticket, packed my bike, had my doctor stick a few needles in my arm to keep the Hep A at bay.
Two months later, I was in Peru, straddling my bike on top of an Andean mountain at 10,600 feet, with massive mountains stretching out in all directions, and a wad of coca leaves – the Peruvian antidote to altitude sickness – in my mouth. In shorts. What transpired over the next 3 hours was nothing short of bliss.
The biggest downhill I’d ever ridden in my life up to that point had been about 5,000 vertical feet, in British Columbia. I thought at the time there could be nothing to top that ride. But the downhill from Olleros to the Pacific Ocean, over 2 miles of vertical drop, defied all descriptions, all language. I spent about a week cleaning the drool off my jersey and my bike. Whenever I thought the ride had to be over, that we’d had to have ridden at least 30,000 vertical feet, there was still miles and miles of trail left: beautiful, stunning singletrack and not a soul in sight. And the only snow to be seen was at the very tops of the peaks.
I’ve been back to Peru 3 times since, each a unique adventure in its own right. Whether it’s a ride through a remote valley to an ancient Inca fortress, or sampling homemade chicha (corn alcohol) from a trailside campesino, riding your mountain bike in another country offers incredible opportunities that you would not have from the window of a tour bus. The amazing part about riding in Peru is that during the reign of the Inca Empire, the rulers built over 30,000 km of trails within the country’s borders.
My latest adventure took me to Guatemala this past December, where over 2/3 of the population is indigenous Maya and where volcanoes riddle the landscape. As with Peru, and most developing countries, villages and towns are connected by a vast network of walking and animal trails, most of which are suitable – and ideal – for mountain biking. These trails typically take you to areas where few tourists tread, through remote villages, farmers’ fields, and spectacular mountain valleys.
One of the most spectacular pieces of trail I’ve ever ridden is the 10-km stretch of singletrack along the shore of Lake Atitlan, ending in the Mayan village of Santa Catarina Palopo. Starting with a smooth descent through pine forest, the trail opens up to a steep, technical descent 1,500 feet above the lake, and then meanders down the mountainside, ending in a maze of narrow alleys and staircases in Santa Catarina. The trail is alternatingly technical and fast, with spectacular vistas of the three volcanoes Toliman, San Pedro and Atitlan. The last kilometre through town was particularly memorable, as little children emerged from windows and alleys to wave ‘hola’ as we passed, running after us, shrieking and laughing.
The beauty of mountain biking is that you can do it almost anywhere in the world. In the past 3 years I’ve ridden my bike in Utah, Peru, Chile, Guatemala, New Zealand, and the European Alps, and this is just scratching the surface of places where you can ride your bike during the North American winter. I’ve heard amazing things about the biking in Africa and Asia – my next stop on the journey will be the Himalayas, where I’ve heard rumours of a downhill that will top my 10,600-foot Peruvian epic…
Have any stories of your endless mountain bike summer? Let us know about an amazing place where you’ve ridden in the winter… or want to ride.
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Mike Brcic is the president and owner of Sacred Rides Mountain Bike Holidays. Interested in keeping the endless summer alive? Check out the amazing trips Sacred Rides offers around the world. For more stories of the endless mountain bike summer, visit Mike’s blog, the World Wide Ride Guide, subscribe via RSS or e-mail, or join their Facebook Group.