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True to its roots

The Cheakamus Challenge has always been for riders The 20th anniversary edition of the Cheakamus Challenge takes place Sept. 21.

The Cheakamus Challenge has always been for riders

The 20th anniversary edition of the Cheakamus Challenge takes place Sept. 21. One of the oldest mountain bike races in Canada, the event has in many ways mirrored the development of mountain biking as a sport.

And in some ways it’s a reflection of the way the sport used to be.

Since 1988 the Cheakamus Challenge, which starts in Brackendale and finishes in Whistler, has been organized by Grant Lamont, who has also played a significant role in the development of mountain biking in Whistler. Lamont recently sat down to discuss the Cheakamus Challenge and the state of mountain biking in Whistler.

"This is a hard thing. It’s not a fun run. I don’t set it up like a fun run," Lamont says of the 70-kilometre race.

"This isn’t a test, this is final exams. If you’re not prepared you pay the price. If you pay the price for something you learn, and then you come back and do better.

"We’ve sort of stuck pretty much with the same course over the years, so people can gauge their performance and their times on it. We’ve made a couple of changes over the last couple of years that added a little distance to it, but I think the distance and the quality of the experience are really highlighted by the use of the Riverside Trail and things like that that run up in Function, and then the final push over the mountain."

The race was started in 1982 by Doris Burma, who owned Summit Cycles, a bike shop housed in a trailer next to the Delta Whistler Resort.

"She was sort of like the mountain biking den mother up here," says Lamont. "Her line was she always liked to see the boys in tight shorts so that’s why she opened a bike shop.

"But the thing was really one of the first races to go off in the province."

The first edition of the race started at the Black Bear Restaurant, which was located at the Alice Lake turnoff. The course largely followed the current route: through Paradise Valley to the Cheakamus Canyon, alongside Highway 99 to Black Tusk and Brandywine Falls, then over the lava flows and the singletrack alongside the Cheakamus River to the Whistler landfill. From there it climbs up the side of Whistler Mountain to the Northwest Passage, then down the north side of the mountain to finish in the village.

When Lamont resurrected the race in 1988, after a couple of years hiatus, it was at the urging of Rick Warren, who ran Singletrack Cycles in Mons.

"I was doing the Ironman and helping organize races so I jumped in. And another guy, Todd McPhalen, and I split the duties up. I looked after the marketing and sales and getting all the entry information and permitting stuff, and Todd and Bob Eakins looked after the course, doing all the marking and clean up and whatever safety procedures we had in place then. It was pretty simple.

"The first year I put it on we had 88 people. The second year it went to 214, and then it just kept doubling from there. I think it sort of mirrored the growth of the sport, the way it went. There wasn’t many races going on then. There was the Cheakamus, Vedder, Hell of the North in Deep Cove…

"My idea was – it wasn’t to make money – it was basically just to put on a race so there was a race, so there were races on the calendar that were fun. Since I was doing 10-15 races a year it only seemed right that I would put one on once a year.

"I didn’t own a bike shop. I didn’t own a company that could benefit from the exposure, I was just doing it to do it, because it was a challenge. Not only did I organize it I raced in it too."

In the early ’90s mountain biking was just starting to take off, and the Cheakamus Challenge quickly grew into a test of organizational abilities, as much as a test of riding skills and endurance. In 1991, 1,100 riders showed up at the start line.

"It was the weekend of the British Sports Car Club of British Columbia. I had all my friends, a lot of big boys, bouncers from the bars, who were doing highway control on the highway, when the first rider came out of the canyon – it was Donny Buscomb – and they shut the highway right down. They just shut it down. That wasn’t under direct orders from me, they just thought that ‘we’re going to shut it down.’

"So all these British cars were overheating and it just happened that the Minister of Highways was sitting in this line, in his Morgan, with the radiator top popped off of it, and looking for heads.

"I came home that day and Lumpy (Leidal), who I was living with at the time, was like, ‘Dude, there’s a real nasty message on the answering machine from some road guy.’ And so I listened to it and it was virtually they were going to throw me in jail, if it happened again.

"But my argument was, these are 1,100 British Columbians and they have just as much right on the road as you do. And I fought tooth and nail with them for years."

The temperature got up to 33 degrees for the 1991 edition of the race, and with more than twice as many riders as expected, there wasn’t enough water and food for everyone.

"All over the microwave guys were lying in creeks and begging food and things. So we had to re-assess it. And that was the year that everything changed gears."

Some of the highway sections were eliminated with the building of new trails, including the Doris Burma Trail which was built by Ross Kirkwood on the west side of the highway from the north end of Cheakamus Canyon to Chance Creek.

Last year a 2.5 km section of trail was built from Calcheak to the back of Sugar Cube Hill, with funding from the Ministry of Forests, the Sea to Sky Trail Ride and the Cheakamus Challenge.

"So it’s come a long way," says Lamont. "But one of the big things that I think with the race is that it’s a classic. A lot of people go to me, ‘Oh, your course isn’t as good as the Test of Metal.’ We don’t organize it as tight as the Test of Metal. To tell you the truth, they probably do the best job of any of the races around, but the amount of community support they get is outstanding, outstanding.

"Cliff (Miller) has done a great job with (the Test of Metal), he’s used it to advance the businesses he’s involved with, which is great. Whereas myself, as Charlie Doyle put it, I never really seized the financial and the economic benefits that come with it. But that wasn’t what I was in it for. It was to have a race and get a bunch of people out."

Lamont says there’s a misconception about how much money is made on the event.

"Last year it cost me about $3,500 out of pocket. The previous year, close to $700. There were three years where it actually made money, and those were the years we kicked Cycling B.C. out of it, we got rid of them and bought our own insurance.

"The most we ever made off the event was $7,500, that was the biggest profit that we ever got out of it. I don’t want to make a bunch of money off it. I don’t think that’s the purpose of it. We’ve been giving back, we’ve been giving money to the WORCA Youth Fund, we’ve been giving money to the Sea to Sky Trail Society – whether there’s a profit or not. It’s just part of the commitment we’ve done. And now this thing has gone on, my wife has gotten very involved, my son calls it his race…."

Lamont is proud of what he has contributed to the local mountain biking scene, and the way the mountain biking community has developed in Whistler.

"I think the amount of work and commitment I’ve given to the mountain biking community in this town has helped spearhead the growth that is happening here now. I mean, that guide book that Charlie and I did (in 1993) was not to make money. It cost us about $600 out of pocket. WORCA loaned us the money, it took us forever to pay them back. But that was to identify the trails, and a lot of the developers who are coming into town now and developing these parcels of land, they’ve got to leave these trails in place because they’re recognized as an easement. So that’s one of the things we did.

"And I’m really happy the way things have gone in this town. There’s a lot of people making a lot of money off biking in this town. Whistler Mountain with their mountain bike park, the accommodation people…. And to tell you the truth, I don’t think they contribute enough to the sport. They’re kind of riding on the coattails of a lot of… visionaries in the community who have done a lot of stuff."

He mentions the Samurai of Singletrack and last weekend’s Westside Wheel Up as two events that "have a personality" and give back to the community.

"You’ve got to remember who your customer is. Your customer is the guy who’s laying down $45 or $50 to do the race. I refocused in ’97 on that. I sat down with a couple of sponsors who’d been with me for a while and said the bottom line is I want to put all the emphasis and effort into making sure we have enough food and water for everyone, oversupply.

"And then three years ago I brought Al Ross and Dave Heisler in, from Tantalus and Corsa Cycles in Squamish, to look after the course, so it wasn’t up to me to do everything.

"I’ve got some pretty critical volunteers who I’ve had for some time, like Mike and Linda Manheim who look after the microwave, Nelson Bastien who looks after the highway crossing, Kevin Zucht who does the sweep for me, all the guys who volunteer to do first aid. So we’ve got a good ship, and we’ve got a pretty good thing of sponsors.

"Our sponsorship demands aren’t big. We’re not out there asking for $30,000, $40,000 for title sponsorship. We’d be happy with $5,000 cash, just to be able to do the thing. That’s basically what we’re putting everything towards.

"This year we’re going to be finishing at the base of the mountain but the awards and everything are going to be here at the Brew House. Jeff and Mark (from the Brew House) have just been unbelievable with all the jerseys they did, their little hall of fame up there with the beer mugs. We’re going to be putting another five people in the hall this year."

And the Cheakamus Challenge and mountain biking in Whistler continue to grow on the foundation that has been laid.