Cam McRae's Ride(s) Of the Year

How can it be that 2023 is behind us? My ability to track time or place events in the past hasn’t recovered from the pandemic. What happened in the past year? I’m not sure when that was, and I’m actually a little rusty about last week… I do, however have rides to reminisce about there's about an even chance they took place in 2023.

This may not be Thanksgiving, on either side of the border, and the harvest is long over, but I find gratitude slipping into my consciousness regularly lately, and particularly when I'm on my bike in the woods with friends. The boosts of energy and fraternity that surge after each journey through our trails often feel too good to be legal. I'm more grateful than ever to have the privilege of riding a mountain bike with beautiful people in amazing places.

Ride of the year; this theme was a suggestion rather than an edict. I like the idea, in theory at least and in the past I’ve often had a single standout ride, where everything came together unexpectedly or victory was snatched from the jaws of defeat. This year it feels more like a continuous flow of high water marks. Of course that feeling could be blamed on the aforementioned amnesia, but don’t think that’s it.

I actually remember some great rides. During Crankworx we rode several amazing Whistler Valley trails, including Gargamel and Bring on the Weekend. The weather was perfect and on both rides we were feeding off each other, riding above ourselves and ramping the giddiness. 

There was also an epic climb and descent out in B.C.’s Fraser Valley, a little over an hour from North Van. It’s about the most vertical you can get around here at 4600 feet (1400m). It’s steep and glorious and it never seems to end. This time around I rode a drop that had eluded me on my four previous bids down the trail. It’s not big but the landing is steep and followed immediately by an exposed don’t-miss corner. Of course it turned out to be easy and the whole thing linked up better than ever. Riding a move I assumed I would never ride is enough to put it on the podium, but that wasn't the half of it.

On my previous trip to the Valley, when drought levels had peaked and every corner was treacherous, I’d lost my rear wheel and high-sided on a left-hander after a loose and heinous chute and smashed my head into a log. The sound of impact was like a 6” branch snapping off in a storm. My concussion didn’t roll in for three days but I felt pretty good after five weeks. But that was 2022. I think. Best of the year? Maybe, but certainly my best ride down that dark ribbon of trail.

I’d begun hearing about a trail above Squamish in 2021 but I hadn’t been able to get after until this year. It ascended a rough steep fireroad into wide-open alpine, after 90 minutes or so of climbing. Descending through spectacularly unique climatic zones every 150 metres of vertical adds to the magic of riding down  into the treeline from barren peaks. Incredible trail building doubles it up. 

One ride was memorable in its own right but it became even more so in light of the events of August 18th 2023. Earlier in the summer I'd reconnected with my old buddy Keith Elliott, a genuine MTB OG who rode in the original freeride movie, Pulp Traction. Back in the early 90s, Keith built a trail in Scotch Creek B.C. near where my family has a summer place. It was great fun back then but it eventually was logged and destroyed. It was resurrected when trials moto riders began using the land to climb, which turns out to be perfect for mountain bike descents.

Over the last few years, the trials riders have been locked out and I've been keeping their lines alive as well as I can for both hiking and riding. In July I coerced Keith to come and ride the new Spanish Underpants with me. It was nothing like the original version with its incredible stunts, but it was still a blast to ride and having Keith along closed the circle.

My summer was busy and I didn't ride the trail again before Scotch Creek went up in smoke on August 18th. The fire was devastating for the community with 176 structures lost, including the local fire hall. Our tiny cabin escaped the flames thanks to the industrious and dedicated locals from Captain's Village Marina but the Spanish Underpants did not. The trail is still there but most of the trees burned and it will never be the same lush experience it once was.

As I was staring at the screen this afternoon, unable to string even a few words together, I decided to saddle up. It is the second shortest day of the year and it was torrential last night, but I knew I could ride some well-armoured trails and make it home before sunset at 4:16. 

I climbed to Seventh Secret, one of the original North Shore trails, which is probably the best-protected wet weather trail I’ve ridden, aside from Moab Slickrock. Where it isn’t armoured it’s down to bedrock or hardpan or made of wood. There are a few sections where you can point your fingers a little but mostly it’s tight tech corners accentuated by slippery wood. It was perfect. 

I decided to stick to the most popular trails, the ones I rarely ride except when I’m alone. This meant Expresso was next, and it felt significant this time around. When our local trail association, the nsmbA initiated their trail adoption program, we were one of the few who bought in immediately, adopting Expresso. 

Others took up the mantle after our two years on the trail and it has continued to improve. Berms are taller and more elegantly arced and the flow gets ever-more syrupy. Thanks to everyone who has helped make the North Shore’s trail network better every year. 

I arrived home feeling inspired, washed my bike and hung up my wet clothes, the trajectory of my day blasted into a radder dimension. Maybe 2023 was the year every ride was the ride of the year.