I was at Mount van Hoevenberg for two days for the final UCI mountain bike World Cup weekend. I didn’t make it over to Whiteface for the downhill races. On Friday, I was a volunteer, and on Saturday, I returned as a spectator.
Why volunteer at ORDA events? It can be fun, and every day that you volunteer, you get a voucher that’s good at any of the ORDA venues.
When my kiddo visits from NJ, there will be free trail passes at the Ho. Same thing if a friend visits and wants to go to Whiteface.
Friday
On Friday, I signed up to be a doping control chaperone. Friday was short course racing: nine laps of approximately a two-kilometer loop. Separate start times for elite men and women, and for U23 men and women. It was raining as I drove from Saranac Lake for my 11:30 shift.
Low clouds obscured the mountaintops. I was amazed to see World Cup riders on Route 86 and on Old Military Road. Hello? The intersection of those two roads is eight miles from the Ho, so we’re talking a minimum 16 mile, and possibly longer, warmup? It makes sense: the shorter the race, the longer the warmup.
I found a place to park in the 1980 stadium and picked up my credentials. I was early enough that I had time for lunch. Part of the volunteer deal is, you get a meal voucher. There was a food vendor in the old stadium, slinging all the food you’d find at a state fair. I opted for a burger and fries because ‘Murica.
After eating, I walked to the doping control office in the new lodge. There was another volunteer there who was a seasoned doping control chaperone. Linda, one of the professionals from the International Testing Agency (ITA), explained the job requirements. When I had signed up, I thought I’d be responsible for the sample’s chain of custody. Far from it. My job was to accompany a male rider from the finish area to the doping control office. As a newb, Linda decided it would be easiest for me to chaperone the race winner. First over the line? No worries, he’d be easy to find. My colleague was assigned to chaperone bib 50: Owen Clark, a Canadian rider for Pivot Cycles.
The short track races happen so quickly, there was no going on to the course to watch. Ottavio, another ITA employee, accompanied me to the finish area. I could only spectate near the start finish line. For the first several laps, there was a bunch of about a dozen, followed by a similar size bunch, and then a third, passing each lap. As the race went on, riders strung out. The last three laps, it was Martín Vidaurre Kossmann, a Chilean two-time Olympian, and eventual second place finisher Luca Schwarzbauer trading the lead.
Vidaurre won the men’s elite short course race by four seconds. He was my guy. Ottavio and I stood back as the race MC and multiple TV reporters got in Vidaurre’s face. It’s a way different setup from the skiing World Cups last March, where there was a designated press zone.
When the last press person finished, Ottavio nudged me, and I went up to Vidaurre. “Martín, congratulations on your race, I’m your doping control chaperone.” He smiled and signed the form that I proffered. I hung out as he changed into dry clothes, chatted with other riders and fans, and went on to the podium. On the podium, Vidaurre, Schwarzbauer, and third place finisher Filipppo Colombo, kept it real, spraying Nine Pin cider on the crowd and themselves.
After the podium ceremony, I followed Vidaurre back to the expansive Specialized tent; he rides their bikes. It’s a combination bike maintenance and athlete chill-out spot. There was a sofa in one corner, and a kind of propane fire pit. He high-fived and chatted with technicians and other athletes. Because he’d been soaked with sparkling cider, he excused himself to go in to Specialized’s trailer to change clothes again. When he came out, he signed autographs and posed for photos with a dozen elementary school-aged kids. After going absolutely full gas for 21 minutes, with no real place to recover, he made time for the youngest fans.
“Are you ready?” he asked. I go, yeah, and we walked towards the lodge. We stopped a few times to chat with Chilean fans and other athletes. It should be noted that Vidaurre is fluent in German and English, in addition to his native Spanish. On the course, mid-race, he spoke to Schwarzbauer in German: come on, we can drop these guys. And he can drop f-bombs in English like a native Brooklynite. IYKYK.
In the office, we waited. When it was his turn, Vidaurre delivered a sample. I didn’t have to watch, that was Ottavio’s job. Mission accomplished.
Saturday
On the spur of the moment, I returned to the Ho on Saturday to spectate. Please clap for me, I’m as spontaneous as a brick. In stark contrast to Friday, it was a beautiful, warm-in-the-sun, cool-in-the-shade autumn day.
Parking the Fortunate Son at the horse show grounds, I caught a shuttle bus to the venue. I headed on to the race course as the men’s U23 race was in its final laps. I watched them take the last hammering downhill into the stadium. There are a couple of jumps, and a serious banked corner leading dow to the stadium. They’re dang near perpendicular to the ground at that point. The commitment level is hard core. I don’t want to hear NASCAR or Indy car drivers talking about safety. They have roll cages, these guys don’t.
The U23 men were done; I worked my way uphill to the height of land. The first year that the Ho hosted the UCI World Cup, racers went all the way around the five km loop to a wild, technical, downhill. The following year, ORDA contractors put in a permanent uphill route to the height of land, through the woods. A better option than laying an obstacle course down on the ski track, and then restoring it in time for winter. Less labor and less erosion.
The elite women’s race would start at 2 PM. I picked my way along the fencing outside the uphill route and found a good spot to watch. I listened to two guys around my age (older than dirt) chatting. “Yeah, I was in Lake Placid for the Olympics in 1980. Right before the bobsled races, I dropped acid. Two sugar cubes. Then I walked around in the woods for a while.” Far out, man.
In the stadium, the music and the crowd got louder, and you knew the women’s race was on. Seven minutes in, the first women hammered past, tightly grouped. Twenty feet away from me, a fan channeled his inner Didi Senft, the famous El Diablo of the Tour de France and Giro d’Italia. Decked out in red, horns on his bike helmet, waving his trident and cheering for the racers.
In the photos, you can see how narrow the track is. It had to be challenging not only to pass, but to pick the best line. In a road race like the Tour de France, the whole team works together to put one rider on the podium. Think UAE-Team Emirates and Tadej Pogačar. Tactics in a mountain bike race seem, to this observer, more fluid.
By the second lap, the pack had strung out into groups of three or four riders. The ones at the front looked like they were hardly working. A couple of women off the back looked to be breathing pretty hard. A drone chased the pack uphill. How hard is it to concentrate with that buzzing behind you?
I moved to the forested downhill track that takes you down to the snowmaking reservoir. This is one of the relentless, technical downhills strewn with obstacles. Like the rest of the course, there were places where you could opt for a gnarly, fast line, or ride more conservatively while sacrificing time. We’ll say nothing of the padding wrapped around some of the trees. I can’t imagine the level of focus one needs here. The great Formula 1 driver Jackie Stewart observed that driving at 180 mph was the same for him as mere mortals going 70. It must be the same way for these athletes.
I hiked back down to the snowmaking reservoir to take in some of the action. There’s a long straight where technicians had set up with spare tires in case someone had a flat. Some teams were running 29-inch wheels, and some, the new 32-inch wheels. I ran into Peru Nordic teammate the Hand of Doom, now a NYSEF coach, and he explained the new technology to me. It seems that the jury is still out on whether 32s offer a significant advantage over 29ers.
I walked back down to the stadium, catching action as I went. Where one has to cross the race course, there were marshals to stop spectators as racers blasted through.
The men’s race wouldn’t start until four. I was tired, still regaining fitness post knee surgery, and a hungry cat awaited me at home. I caught the shuttle bus back to the horse show grounds and retrieved my car.
Gossip, Rumors, and Innuendo
CONSUMER ADVISORY: the subheading above summarizes the prose below. This is from speaking to one person, and there’s no verification.
This weekend was the final one of ORDA’s three year agreement with UCI. ORDA opted not to negotiate another contract with them. Although the races brought revenue to the Tri-Lakes, they cost ORDA a lot of money. I’d swear that I read a news story about ORDA trying to renegotiate fees with UCI, but I can’t find the article, despite extensive searching online.
Towards the end of my Sunday constitutional, I came off the 1980 trails onto the straight section above the reservoir. There, a lone man was dismantling the barriers, and we chatted for a bit. He’s been setting up mtb races courses for 30 years, and he really likes the setup here at the Ho.
We got to the topic of money. Last year, Whiteface came on board for the mountain bike events, and my guy told me, it’s an additional venue, so UCI charges more money. Sounds like something they wouldn’t budge on. He said that someone – ORDA? UCI? – had floated the possibility of holding the cross-country races at Whiteface to get rid of the second venue fee.
Given Whiteface’s terrain, would it be feasible to run cross country races there? Would the activist environmental groups that got upset about the downhill track sue? That’s above my pay grade. My guy did hold out the hope that ORDA and UCI would resolve their differences, and that World Cup mountain bike racing would return to Lake Placid.
Whether or not elite mountain bike racing returns to Lake Placid, it was a great weekend of racing. Come git you some riding on the trails before the snow flies.
Hope you wore the Devil costume for drug control – would seem fitting, lol!