How to Tackle an Elephant

The 2019 Lost Elephant Ultra Race was a one of a kind. Over 500km with 11,000m of ascent made for a very challenging and rewarding track. Here’s a write up I did that I have just finished. I’ll have to write one up about the 2020 edition as it had it’s own unique challenges.

Enjoy

Day 1: ~180km

I looked at my GPS. It’s midnight. The rain is falling and I see that the track is taking me down a rushing creek. It would appear as though the track had been washed out. I shrug my shoulders and push my bike into the darkness and shin deep, rushing water. “I’m sure the track is just past this ‘little’ washout.” I assure myself. But as I descend, I have doubts. This can’t be right. I leave my bike by the creek, grab my GPS and head back up the bank. I probably spent 30 minutes trying to figure out what was going on. Trying to peer through the darkness with my headlamp, all I could see were more alders. The light couldn’t penetrate the thick brush reducing my visibility to a metre. Trackleaders will show my dot yoyo a section a few times before I make my final decision, which was the right one. As I plowed through the wet jungle, finally the tracks converge and I am back living on the line. But it’s not over yet. Within the next km I sustained sidewall damage and now I’m leaking air. Just when I thought I was “out of the woods” I’m thrust right back in….

There’s a beast in the woods in the Rocky Mountain Trench. It’s very, very old but it’s patient. It silently waits and watches. It weathers harsh winters and is home to a rich diversity of life. It is generous and will bestow the gifts of crisp, clean drinking water, places to rest and beautiful views but you better put your back into it because this unrelenting beast will try to break you.

The Lost Elephant Ultra Race is an unsupported bikepacking race that takes you around the Rocky Mountain Trench. It starts and finishes in Cranbrook, British Columbia, by first traversing the Purcell Mountains to Invermere before heading into the Rockies and back to Cranbrook. It’s a beast and if you’re going to tackle it you must be persistent, patient and maybe a little bit crazy. This track of just over 500km and 11,000m of ascent will push your limits by offering a variety of beautifully open logging roads that BC is known for. Not to mention all the double track, quad tracks, single track, hike a bike and bush whacking you’d come to expect from the Lost Elephant boys. The climbs on this route are steep but you must keep moving forward. It’s the culmination of what bikepacking is all about. Adventure. 

On July 14th I set off on an individual time trial of this course. Because of logistics, I decided that I would start/finish my race in Invermere near Sobeys at 9am, as this is where the track comes through town. I was feeling pretty good but once I started climbing the Maddias/Tetley FSR, I knew that this was going to be a tough one. The road through the fairmont range was pitchy and I was already walking and walking and walking… In past events I learned that in some cases, walking becomes the most efficient way to travel, which was one of the reasons why I choose flat pedals and hiking shoes. Sure I could pedal some of these climbs if I were just heading out for a couple of hours, but this is the long game. If you’re going to get to the finish, you need to listen to your body. There’s always a reward for tough climbs. In this case it was a lovely meander over toward Fairmont Hot Springs before plunging into town on a quad track. 

It was nice to get onto the pavement for a bit of a spin. Arriving at the resort, I grabbed a coke and ate some of my snacks before heading into the single track and working my way along Columbia Lake and The Spirit Trail. This is familiar territory for me which is nice as you know what to expect. Flanking Columbia Lake was beautiful. The terrain opens up and so do the views. It was windy, but that was okay as it was cool. It’s easy to take your local stomping ground for granted. Man, it's beautiful around here. 10 or 15km in, the  track starts taking you East into the Rocky Mountains up Mt De Smet. Steep! A couple of vehicles passed me while I pushed my bike.

Day one is always a bit of a shock to the system. The human body is a very adaptable machine capable of pretty amazing physical feats. That said, our machines need time to adapt to what we’re doing to it. I’ve always been a bit of a crampy guy so that’s one area of analysis that I really pay attention to. Nuun Tabs are my go to for electrolyte replacement. I like the idea of getting my minerals in at the same time as liquids. I feel as though it’s the best way to hydrate and they taste pretty damn good too! I carry a mix of flavours and make sure I have caffeinated tabs as well. I caffeinate in the morning, break during the day and then start on the caffeine around dinner time to help push me through the night. The food I pack is very very basic. I choose whole foods that will keep for a few days. Nuts, super hard cheeses and dried meats do it for me. Calorie dense foods are the way to go and I always pick high fat foods. It’s super plain but I usually treat myself when I get to a town. I don’t eat gels, and only eat candy to fight pallet fatigue. Those empty calories burn too fast causing a blood sugar tsunami which isn’t effective on the long haul, in my opinion. To deal with glycogen deficiencies, I always carry a couple hundred ml of maple syrup. If I start feeling shaky, I’ll sip a tablespoon and savour it. Not only is it a yummy treat, it’s also packed with potassium which is fantastic for the cramps. Another item I like to have is salt. I carry a little pouch of Kosher salt, and if I find that the Nuun tabs aren’t doing the trick, I’ll take a pinch of salt and put it under my tongue and let it dissolve adding much needed sodium. I’ll even replace Nuun in my water with salt and maple syrup for the ultimate cramp mitigating beverage. You know you’ve hit the mark when the cramps start to fade and your muscles relax. It’s all about balancing the calories, liquids and minerals. I’m okay running on a calorie deficit as I feel my body is quite metabolically flexible and fat adapted on account of the way I eat day to day which is fairly low carb. The human body carries tens of thousands of calories in fat, we merely need to learn how to access it

As soon as I started the descent toward the Ravenhead I was jazzed but I was in need of a little break. When I spoke with Sofiane Sehilli on the Podcast a few weeks ago he mentioned something that stuck with me. He budgeted himself five minutes per hour for breaks and so far I had accumulated 20 - 25 minutes of break time. Nice! But my work wasn’t finished yet. The quad track leading to the Ravenhead was steep, rocky and technical. The body was still adapting and I could feel my back complaining now. Navigating had its challenges in this area as there were many quad tracks leading you this way or that. My Etrex was set to sleep after 30s to save batteries and that means I also run the risk of overshooting a spur. Because the terrain was so steep I found it hard to free up a hand to “flick the nipple”, displaying the map to ensure I was still on track. Oops, missed it! That’s okay, I only missed it by a couple hundred meters, no biggie.

My shouts echoed through the valley as I celebrated the small chunk that I had completed. I think it’s important to celebrate your victories, especially after a few hours of steep climbs leading to the next zone of the track. I was feeling overwhelmed by the route a few days before my start, but as I started writing up some cue sheets my stress level eased up a little. Instead of looking at these big segments, I broke things down and noticed that the distances from point to point were more mentally manageable. 30km here, 100km there is better than thinking about the larger segments. Having accumulated 20-25 minutes for a break, I spent some time at the beach on the west side of the Kootenay river and had some food, replenished my liquids and sat for a moment. Just as I was arriving, a thunderstorm blew in fast. Cooler air whipped along the river and big fat drops started pelting me. I was able to move under a tree which was a welcome shelter from the storm. Weather blows in fast out here but it usually moves along just as quickly. 

The weather broke giving me glimpses of blue sky. Feeling energized after my break, I packed up and rolled on. The roads from here were a welcome reprieve from the steep punchy climbs and technical quad tracks in the Fairmont range but climbing nonetheless. There was also a lot more traffic here as people were coming and going from Lussier Hot Springs and Top of the World. Most of the vehicles were gracious, slowing down to save me from being spattered with gravel, others not so much. I won’t get into negative rhetoric here but suffice it to say, there’s a direct inverse correlation with the value of the vehicle and the amount of care and respect offered to others on the road. Read: Entitlement…

Lussier Hot Springs were calling to me. How nice would a hot soak be right now? Pretty nice, but it would also spell doom with a relaxed mindset, jello legs and the onset of sleep. Nope! Keep moving forward. A quick stop at Whiteswan would fill my bottles, thanks to a helpful camper operating the pump, and set me up for pedaling into the early morning. Climbing up to the Top of the World provincial park was pleasant but fairly steep. Guided by a plethora of daisies, I began the traverse over to Wild Horse Pass. Darkness quickly consumed me just as the track started to degrade slightly to a much more narrow, slightly overgrown double track.

This takes us to the first paragraph of this piece. I didn’t have very many navigational issues with this track. Most of them were because of my own absent mindedness but as the clock passed midnight, I found myself plowing through an overgrown piece of trail following the track into a rushing creek. Something that I have mentioned a number of times in these pieces is the mindset required to successfully participate in these events. When you’re in the middle of nowhere in the Rockies, in the middle of the night, alone and you’re challenged with navigational issues, this is a test of your mental strength and stability. The vulnerability you feel out there is visceral. Your ego is stripped and there’s no room to panic. This wasn’t a life threatening situation by any stretch, but I was acutely aware of how calm and collected I was. 

Once my navigational woes were solved and I emerged from the woods, I began my descent to Fort Steele. I noticed that things were feeling a little soft in the back. I stop to check things out and noticed a small hole in my sidewall. Shit! I picked up my bike, leaned it on its side and spun the wheel trying to get the sealant to wash over the area and seal it up but it didn’t seem to last. The leak would seal but as soon as there was any pressure on the back end, the clot would release and start to leak again. By now it’s 1:30am and I really just want to get to Fort Steele to sleep in the beautiful grass they have there. I pull out my bottle of sealant and Co2 and perform some maintenance. Finally, the hole seems to have sealed and I’m good to go. I’m still not super confident, so I pick my lines carefully until I reach camp at 3:30am. My day 1 goal was to get to Cranbrook, but that was a hard day to say the least, so if I’m going to reach my day 2 goal, I had better get some sleep. Thankfully, the evening was dry so I slipped into my thermals and a puffy, climbed into my SOL Escape bivvy, set my alarm for 2 hours and passed out. 

I generally never skimp on getting my rig ready for a ride. Generally, I’ll check BB and wheel bearings, install a new drivetrain and fit new rubber with fresh sealant. This time I skipped on the tires which was, in retrospect, a mistake, as it was a concern I had to carry for over 500km. My plus sized Chronicles still got me to the finish but barely….  Food for thought... Oh and only buy Maxxis tires!!

Day 2: ~225km

Two hours of sleep isn’t much but this morning it felt like enough. There’s a debate as to whether more or less sleep results in faster race times. I’m on the fence to be honest, but lately I have been leaning towards more sleep. Next time around I plan on increasing my sleep time as I feel like more recovery time would equate to better physical performance the following day. I’m not sure there’s a right answer as we’re all so biologically different. I think there’s room for a little sleep deprivation but the resounding consensus seems to point to, more is better? More self experimentation is required...

All that aside, I awoke refreshed after a long day one on the trail. I certainly fell short of my goals that day, but that’s the thing with setting expectations: Sometimes you meet them and sometimes you fall short. I try to set goals that I think are attainable but I remain flexible. So much can happen out there that you have to stay adaptable. First things first, I need to check out my rear tire. A little squeeze verifies that the tire held through the night. I rolled over to the gas station compressor and inflated my 3” tire. It’s holding but how confident am I? I guess we’ll find out. I hit the road and worked my way over to Bull River. It was a cool, clear morning perfect for riding. As I ride, I contemplate today’s mission. Today I’d like to crack the 400km mark leaving me with roughly 100-120km to reach the finish. That sounds like an “easy” final day in an Ultra race but you have to consider that within that 100km sits a significant chunk of the total elevation of the entire route and a lot of it would be on foot. 

It took way longer for me to get to Cranbrook than I thought. The trails leading into town meandered through the woods basically taking the longest path from A to B. The Mayook Trail section of the Chief Isadore Trail was a wonderfully meandering trail leading you toward Cranbrook. I was feeling pretty tired after a long night and 2 hours sleep but I was slowly warming up. I listened to Rich Roll’s book Finding Ultra, which made my suffering seem like nothing…  It’s odd rolling back into the city with all the traffic and noise but being rewarded with coffee and breakfast was awesome. I definitely lingered far too long at Timmies but I also knew I had a tough day ahead. Getting some real coffee in me was fantastic! Buzzing, I hit the trail and headed to Kimberley! The spin up to Kimbo on the Northstar Rails to Trails was uneventful and allowed some time to relax and take in the gorgeous day. Upon arriving in Kimberley, I headed to a bike shop. I checked out my tire and decided that I’d leave it. My sealant was holding and honestly I didn’t want to spend the money and time on a new tire. Being a home mechanic has its advantages. Being able to diagnose issues and have the confidence to deal with them is an important skill to have. I’d encourage anyone to learn to perform their own maintenance and repairs. I picked up a new CO2 cartridge and asked if they’d refill my bottle of sealant then I was on my way… right after this milkshake...

I was blessed with pretty good weather on the route. I still experienced some pretty heavy rain but also had my fair share of clear skies and pleasant temperatures. The next stretch of the track approaching the Skookumchuck Mill was lovely, aside from a couple of very steep hike-a-bike sections and a pretty gnarly bushwhack. I knew I was in for some interesting terrain as the road slowly devolved from lovely wide smooth gravel, to double track then to a seldom used road covered with grass and wild daisies and eventually a wall of bush. This would be the start of a 400m downhill bushwhack to a spur that would descend down to the Mill. This was 332kms into my route and 147kms into my day on 2 hours of sleep. Good times! Because of the rain, the jungle was soaking wet. I donned my rain gear and dove in. To say this was tough would be a gross understatement. Pushing my bike through this mess was hard work and progress was  hampered by the bike getting snagged on… well, pretty much everything! The bars would hang up, the pedals would snag. (No, I didn’t want to talented off) Saplings would poke through your wheels and snag. It’s a wonder I didn’t lose anything from my kit! What was most unnerving about this was that the shrubs I was plowing through were filled with berries. I think they were grouse berries but I’m not 100% sure. All I was thinking about were bears.  “HEY BEAR!!” That being said, the foliage was so unbelievably thick I couldn’t imagine a bear the size of a Volkswagen tromping around in here.

This part of the track felt so remote. I did notice another rider’s track though. it was Aaron Weinsheimer from Salida Colorado! He sews for Oveja Negra and was here to tour the route. We’d connect after my ITT to chat on the podcast. Simply knowing that another human had ridden through here was a bit of a boost and I was happy to have his track as a point of reference while I moved through the Purcells. Thanks Aaron!

After about, what seemed like an hour of battling this overgrowth, I finally emerged from the jungle to land on a lovely double track. Happy to be done with that, I removed my rain gear and rolled on to Skookumchuck. Still feeling pretty good, I watered up in the Skookumchuck River before moving on towards Findlay Creek Road. 

As darkness fell and fatigue began to set in, I supplemented with some caffeine for a little boost into the night. The road from Skookumchuk over towards Whitetail lake was long and had a section of quad trail that was super creepy, dimly lit by my Princeton Tec main light. As I rolled along listening to a book and settling into a nice flow, I glanced up briefly to notice two massive green eyes floating about 18 inches above my head! I couldn’t identify the body they were attached to. Needless to say, I instantly called out “Hey! What are you doing out here? Get out of here!” I’m sure it was thinking the same thing… What the hell are YOU doing out here?!... Sometimes I ask myself that as well…. All I saw was its ass as it bolted. I figured it was doe elk or deer. I’m used to seeing little critters scurrying around in the late and early hours of the day, but I’ve never seen ungulates wandering around in the woods in the dark and I’m sure they rarely see is hairless apes riding bikes at that hour either!

Once the fire in my amygdala was extinguished and my skin stopped tingling, I hopped in the saddle again and pushed on for maybe another hour and a half. It was about midnight and looking down at my cue sheet I knew that I was close to Findlay Creek road and about ready for some sleep. Finally, I reached my destination close to a creek where I could water up in the morning. The next day was going to be a big one with two big passes and lots of walking. It was 1:30am. I set my alarm for 5:30 and tried to get some sleep.

Day 3 ~ 125km

I awoke on the morning of day 3 feeling fairly refreshed. Since I rolled into my spot in the the early hours of the morning after a pretty long day, I didn’t realize that I was surrounded by dried up cow patties! Luckily it didn’t rain last night. Although I was cozy in my sleep kit, it’s always a pain getting ready in the morning. Shivering uncontrollably, I quickly got changed and packed up my rig, Maggie, for the final push to Invermere. I was glad that I had a Sawyer mini water filter. Considering all the crap that littered the area, I felt secure with the water in my bottles. Adding some caffeinated Nuun tabs I was ready to go but not after one last scan to make sure I had everything. I was certainly taking my time this morning but by the time I was ready to roll, I had warmed up nicely.

I had a rough idea of the terrain that lay ahead but I didn’t realize that before I’d even hit the Brewer trail head, I had well over 2000 feet of climbing to deal with and that I’d have about 5 hours of riding before the big push. Poor planning I suppose but regardless, it had to be done.  “Do your work.” as Jay Petervary would say.

I arrived at the Brewer trail head around lunch time. I met a few folks on their way up in their vehicles. They were all curious and encouraging. I sat by Brewer creek just on the other side of the foot bridge to water up and have some food. Let the push begin… 

I knew this was going to be a tough day. I have ridden this route before and knew that I’d be on foot a lot. I spent the next 2 hours performing bike push ups as I ascended to the lake. Imagine pushing your bike over your head (that’s how steep it was in parts), grabbing the brakes and using your bars and the traction of your tires on the ground to pull your body uphill to meet your rig. Push, brakes, pull… Push, brakes, pull… over… and over… and over… relentless….

I haven’t talked about this very much in my pieces but the use of cannabis has been a great performance enhancing compound on these journeys. Many of you who use cannabis can relate and will know of the many benefits of THC, CBD and Terpenes. Anti-inflammatory, bronchial and vascular dilation, the antiseptic properties not to mention the psychoactive effects of heightened mood and sensory perception, emotional connectedness and augmented time perception. I always choose Sativa as those particular strains tend to offer an alert and energizing experience as opposed to Indica which, in my experience, lean more toward the desire to sit on the couch and watch Netflix. As the trail tipped back, I decided to supplement before I continued. I put on some motivating music, Dream Theater, and soldiered on.

After about 45 minutes, I met with some hikers. Some very rude, entitled hikers who gave me attitude about “riding” on this particular trail. With a wag of a finger, they rudely passed me after my friendly hello. I asked one particular hiker if he had ever heard the term “recreational supremacy”.  He hadn’t. I reminded him that everyone has the right to the responsible use of crown land and also pointed out that I was not actually riding my bike. I was pushing a wheelbarrow with all my shit up the side of a mountain.

Let me add that I don’t hate hikers. I absolutely love seeing folks out in nature, however they want to responsibly do so. The lack of civility I received from these “lovers of nature” was appalling. Of course, I wouldn’t condone someone on a motorized vehicle riding in there or even a mountain biker descending that trail which is why I use the words “responsible use”. We have to use our heads and protect the environment any way we can. In fact, I would argue that my 50lb rig has way less impact rolling over the terrain than their line of 8 - 10 hikers tromping their way down the trail in single file. I won’t get into it here but check the internet for trail erosion studies. You might surprise yourself. For the record… I will bikepack that area again. Up to that point I was having a pretty good time but now I felt angry. With a grey cloud above my head, I kept moving forward until I experienced some trail magic…

As I ascended I met some ladies that I had spoken with hours ago, before the trail head. They had reached the peak and were heading back down to their cars. We had a friendly exchange and just as we were parting ways, one of the ladies asked “Would you like an apple?” Honestly, it brought tears to my eyes. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation or the cannabis, but I was truly touched by her gesture. Even more so when she mentioned that she always loves to have a piece of fruit on her drive home after the hike. She gave me her post hike snack!

One thing you realize when you’re spending time pushing your limits in these events is just how simple things become. You sacrifice a lot of comfort day after day. You’re cold or too hot. You’re sleeping in ditches. You’re sweaty and muddy and tired. You may have palate fatigue from the food you’ve been consuming or maybe you’re out of food… That apple made my day, especially after the negative confrontation with the entitled hikers. I’d say it was the best damn apple I’ve ever had! I graciously thanked them with a stinky hug and a smile. It’s the kindness of strangers that makes us feel human and gives me hope for our future society.

Finally, the trail starts to level out and I’m at the lake! Surprisingly, it seemed to only take a couple of hours but it ain’t over yet. I stopped to take a couple pics, harvested some water and had some food. All I could think about at this point was having a burger in Panorama. The dangling carrot as it were…

From this point there are still a couple of hours of riding and walking before the descent into Panorama. There’s still some hike a bike and two slide paths to cross. These areas are pretty intimidating with a ton of exposure, sharp scree and quite the slope to contend with. It’s definitely not rideable but more of a drag-a-bike kind of approach. The weather was good and being in the alpine was nice and cool. I made steady progress through the alpine and as I come around a corner, I see some friendly humans. José and some other alpine riding buddies were exploring some terrain. José snapped a picture and I was on my way!

The descent down to Pano was tough on a fully loaded rig. I walked a lot of the steeper sections until I was able to climb back on the saddle and carefully make my way into the valley. Burgers were calling!! I was so looking forward to a meal. Mostly to celebrate being so close to finishing. The whole northern part of the route is very familiar and it felt good to be closer to home in my own stomping grounds.

I rolled into Pano looking for a place to eat. Nothing… What? Was everything closed? The T-Bar wasn’t open!! What the fuck! I sulked for a moment then worked my way to the lower part of the village where the grocery store was located. I had a big coffee, that was thin and tasted like it had been in the pot all day, with extra cream and a bag of regular chips, which were stale… For every low there’s always a… shitty stale bag of chips… I consumed them with disdain, consoling myself that there was only 5 or 6 more hours on the bike before I’d be home. ONWARD!!!

I pretty much walked up to the Paradise Mines Cabin… in the rain… burgerless… my tears camouflaged by the rain that poured down my hungry, burgerless face….

After too many switchbacks to count, I rounded a corner and could see the cabin perched high on the shoulder of Paradise. “Nearly there.” As I reached the top and the next great milestone of the route, I felt home free. The cruise down from Paradise to the valley floor was wonderful. The only issues I had were, 1) I was overrunning the reach of my low burn lamp and 2) I had to carefully navigate the terrain, as I had already nursed my rear tire with the sidewall damage over 300km through the Purcell mountains and there was no way I wanted to deal with fixing that tire in the dark and the rain. Steady as she goes.

The rain subsided, the clouds parted and the moon lit the rest of the way for me. As I rolled toward and finally on to Panorama road, I felt good, happy that I was nearing the end of this really tough endeavor. Happy that things went, more or less, according to plan. Proud to have completed the route (almost but pretty much done). As I hit the pavement, I dropped into the aero bars, one of the rare moments I could on this mountainous route, and worked my way to the finish. It was roughly midnight when I began the final climb to the finish, near Sobey’s, where my adventure began. I yelled out into the night as my emotions overflowed my bucket. I crossed the road and touched the lamp post that marked the start of my journey. It was midnight. No one was there to greet me, to pat me on the back or give me a warm hug. The stores were all closed. The roads were silent. The yellow light from the street lamp flickered above me as I celebrated this great accomplishment quietly to myself. I took a photo of my GPS then began my slow ride to my home, a mere 5 minute ride away.

I rolled into the shop quietly, so as not to wake my family, and leaned Maggie against the wall. I tiptoed upstairs and drew a hot bath. As I lay in the hot water, the last 3 days and 15 hours seemed like a blur. One moment I’m lost in the woods up on Wildhorse Pass. The next moment I’m yelling at mysterious green eyes hovering above me in the woods. Another moment has me emotionally overwhelmed by the kindness of strangers offering me fruit, a sweet reprieve from the cured meat and nuts I had been eating. And now it’s over and I’m sitting in my bathtub, eating and drinking, preparing for what this day will bring. At 8am, I find myself back at my day job as a shipper receiver. The only evidence of what just occurred are my swollen ankles and the myriad of cuts and scrapes on my arms and legs. This is what endurance racing is all about. There are no trophies, no accolades, no prize money. There are however, memories that will last me a lifetime.

Go make some memories!!