The humming of 1701 rider’s tires on the smooth pavement filled the air as we left the cheesy inspirational music blasting through loudspeakers behind us and started out on the first kilometer of our 267 km journey to Seattle. There were people lining the streets, cheering on loved ones and helicopters buzzing overhead with cameras capturing the moment.

This spectacle was the start line of The Ride To Conquer Cancer, a two day bike ride from Vancouver to Seattle. My girlfriend, Rachel, and I had been training and fundraising for this event for the last couple months, and it was a great feeling to join all these other riders and begin our ride. Our fundraising went towards the BC Cancer Foundation. The money we raised will drive crucial cancer research and help develop new cancer treatments at the BC Cancer Agency, Canada’s only cancer control organization dedicated to both cancer research and patient care.

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http://www.vimeo.com/5175300

Regular Joe’s special update on the World’s Most Dangerous Road

When I told anyone that I was going to Bolivia on a mountain bike trip, the question invariably popped up: “Are you going to ride the World’s Most Dangerous Road?” I became quite tired of this query, and I made sure they knew I was going for more than a road, I was going to explore way more remote and wild chunks of terrain than a road, for God sakes.

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Inca Trails and Haunted Castles

As two condors lazily floated overhead, I soaked up some sun and reflected on the morning. I marveled at how much one can get done when the alarm is set for 3:45 am. As the wakeup time suggests, it was an early start from La Paz. We made our way up and out of the slowly waking city, and into the mountains. Bikes were shouldered as the sun touched the highest reaches, and we tried to warm up fingers and toes on our 1.5hr long hike-a-bike up to a pass at 4600m.
Once at the pass the sun offered placebo warmth, as the biting wind cut through our many layers. I felt pretty envious of the wooly llamas at that moment. The mountain pass marked the start of our epic descent down the Takesi Inca trail, a centuries old pre-Hispanic trading route that the Inca built using slave labour to help move their vast armies, and provide a route to transport food and other goods from the Yunga Basin to the high mountains. This trail is part of over 40,000km of Inca roads built by this magnificent empire.
It was pretty amazing to ride my CoilAir over the smooth stones of this piece of history. You could practically feel the ghosts of Incan armies passing by you as thousands of feet of descent passed under our tires.
It was a giant ride. By giant, I mean the most vertical I have ever done in one ride, and I have done some big descents in my time. We dropped 3000m/9,840ft in 24km of extremely varied terrain. Yes, almost 10,000 feet in one go. We rode everything from high alpine singletrack, to inlaid stone Inca road, and eventually down into lush green jungle trail, passing by rustic farming houses with rows of maize drying out front. The thick air of the deep valley was a treat to breathe in after many days at higher elevations.

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We are back in La Paz, for a night of connection with the outside world before we continue on with our exploration of this amazing country. The last three days have been spent in the mountains west of the city, in a zone I will not soon forget.
The drive there took us out of the La Paz basin, and on to the high plateau of El Alto, where we crossed the lonely plains, with foreboding grey skies overhead. A turn off the main road took us into the hills, and away from any remnants of civilization (or so we thought).
The afternoon was spent riding an epic descent (3,500ft) down into the Sapaqui Valley, a generally barren valley highlighted by scrabbly green fields scratched out of the earth anywhere there was the slightest source of moisture. The trail was a downhill pumptrack, twisting and turning over the hard rocky moonscape, and dicing through the cacti. Consequences were high as any wrong move would take you off the trail into the awaiting arms of the thorny plants. Everybody was really stoked as we loaded the Land Cruisers and headed off to our lodging for the next couple nights, and to the hot springs that were located there as well.
All day we had been essentially alone, besides the odd sheepherder or wild mountain child. The unexpected luxury that greeted us deep in the Urmiri valley was a shock to the system. The Hotel Gloria was built in the 1930’s as a retreat for the La Paz elite, complete with hot springs and nice lodging. We were blown away by this surreal oasis in the middle of the barren valley, complete with flower gardens, nice lawns, and steaming hot natural pools. Keeping in Bolivian style though, the hotel only had short wave radio for contact with the outside world, and electricity for a short few hours every evening.
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Joe Schwartz ventures to the Altiplano in search of big descents and wicked Andean singletrack

Bolivia has always been on my list of must-go places, so needless to say I was excited to experience this remote, mountainous country. Not even five airports worth of traveling was enough to dull my stoke for this trip.
I finally flew into Bolivia as the sun rose over the city of La Paz, which is crammed in a giant amphitheatre, ringed by snow covered 16,000 foot peaks. Aside from the view, and ridiculously crazy drivers, the first thing I noticed was a severe shortness of breath, as my body tried to cope with the sudden exposure to the thin air at 11,000 feet.
The kind folks at Gravity Bolivia were there to pick me up, bearing gifts of water and altitude pills, two essential ingredients in coping with the high elevations.
We rolled into La Paz, dodging feral dogs and wild taxi drivers, and checked into our accommodations, where I met up with the rest of the internationally diverse crew. The other riders are, from Switzerland, Rene Wildhaber, and from Germany, Rob Jauch. The trip is being documented by the Italian lensman, Marco Toniolo. We are being shown around by Alistair Mathew of Gravity Bolivia (www.gravitybolivia.com ), which is not only an amazingly run guiding outfit based here in La Paz, but also the Kona Bolivia distributor.
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I, along with most Vancouverites, spent most of this winter off my bike. The Lower Mainland received an unprecedented amount of snow this season, not just in the mountains but right in the city. The snow banks in December and January were huge, reminiscent of more northern climes. This excess of snow was very out of place in a city that normally enjoys very temperate weather patterns, and is situated well within reach of a tsunami crashing off the Pacific Ocean.

So, due to the lack of exposed dirt on the trails, and the fact that I work all winter (yes, Regular Joe works, like the rest of you), I shelved my bikes for the season. Sure, I got out here and there on my trusty road bike and dodged some traffic, but my dirt addiction was put on hold. I stayed busy however, working and skiing, but every so often my mind would stray, and I would daydream of happy times gone by, of memorable days on my mountain bicycle.

It seemed that spring had finally chased winter to the higher reaches of the mountains, where it belongs this time of the year, the forecast was for a sunny, warm Wednesday, and I convinced my good friend at Kona, Dik Cox, to take off from work early to ride. Call it a business lunch. It should go without saying that after a few months of cold turkey, and a spanking new Dawg Supreme staring me in the face, I was beyond excited to get out for a spin.

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