Spot Check: Bryce Mountain Bike Park, Virginia

For many of us cycling represents a physical challenge, with pure adrenaline throbbing through your veins and hard-as-nails competition. We’re obsessed with ‘higher, further, faster,’ and the rush of the next kick. But where’s the fun gone? Has the soul of mountain biking gone AWOL? Do we always have to push it to the limit?

Often overlooked in favor of the better-known North American hotspots, Virginia has a lot to offer to mountain bikers with its location on the East Coast of the USA. Heading up through Old Dominion, it’s a case of keeping your eyes and ears open to find incredibly cool trails, ranging from manicured singletracks to wild backcountry and brutal downhill terrain.

Until a few years ago Virginia had nothing to offer in terms of a bike park with easy lift access and professionally built lines. Let’s face it, us Europeans have been spoilt: Germany, France, and the Alps in particular, are a hotbed of trails that can keep us entertained for weeks, granting us thousands of vertical metres. So it was perhaps only natural that my new hometown’s glaring absence of such opportunities came as a disappointment to me. The Transition TR450, my go-to for the big hits, sat collecting dust for months, as the next known bike park is at least four hours away – a distance that my inner German still considers to be a good halfway round-the-world trip, and certainly not a journey I’d make in a day.

A bike park with southern flair

Then along came the day when I heard word of Bryce Resort, Virginia’s only bike park, found on the border of West Virginia and less than two hours from Washington D.C. Week after week of bad weather meant that it took a while before I managed to squeeze in a visit; call me a wimp but having to queue and take cable cars in monsoon-like rain isn’t my idea of a great day at the bike park. Moreover, the park did seem to attract a lot of negativity on the Internet: ‘nice sidewalks’, ‘way too harmless’ and ‘boring’ were the order of the day. I duly looked elsewhere, writing it off as a family-friendly tourist attraction. I ended up leaving Bryce on the shelf for weeks. Somewhat mistakenly, as I later discover.

At one point the weather is finally getting better and Mike, my partner in crime when it comes to riding trips, happens to have a rare, race-free weekend. He convinces me: ‘Haters gonna hate, don’t listen to them. It’s a great park!’ Shortly before we set off, the region becomes a rainforest once more. Torrential rain at night and muggy storms in the afternoon turn the bike park into a mud fest. My pleas to postpone the trip fall on deaf ears, and I’m ridiculed and tarnished as a fair weather rider. The disses are unbearable, and this ‘old’ man’s I-don’t-give-a-fuck mentality slowly starts to rub off on me. Those who dare, win.

The reward is virtually instantaneous, as the forecasted bad weather fails to materialize. We drive through the stunning Shenandoah Valley in the sunshine, it’s a sticky 35°C. Avert your gaze from the humongous cities, the monotonous strip malls and packed highways, and the countryside with its infinite horizon and endlessly undulating green forests is definitely pleasing on the eye. Friendly farmers wave from inside their pick-up trucks, greeting you like a long-lost friend. There are typically American wooden houses with shady terraces and huge trees, some are ancient and others meticulously looked-after.

But in the next instant there are abandoned homesteads, mounds of litter and a sense of decay. In front of the trailer homes, front yards are crammed with cars from the 70s, more than ready for the scrapheap. It strikes me as a long-forgotten film set from the days of black and white television. Colour comes in the form of the American and the Confederate flag, the hugely controversial flag of the Confederate army, still showing the divide between North and South American. We’re in the South here and they’re proud of that – just as proud as they are to be American patriots.

The small ski resort and three-year-old bike park of Bryce is welcoming and well equipped. There’s a golf course, a country club and a modern cable car setup with robust Whistler-style bike racks. Somewhere above us the chair lift disappears into the blue sky – the mountain can’t be that small then, I reason. The false weather forecast must have scared other riders away, as we’re virtually alone on this idyllic day. I count 30 riders at most. There’s no queuing for the lifts, and the super tacky trails are purely for us.

It’s a regular bike park welcome with the bike shop in a ski-style design, kitted out with brand new Treks and Konas to rent, alongside helmets and protective gear. The typically American customer service has pervaded the scene here too, and they’re friendly and relaxed, doing their utmost to sell every customer a perfect day of riding. The 28-year-old bike park manager Derek keeps an eye on their fleet of rental bikes, takes charge of everyone’s suspension and is more than willing and able to help people fix mechanicals on their own bikes if necessary.

The end zone of the park is enticing, with wooden wall rides, hip jumps, two-meter drops and a pretty respectable tabletop directly under the chair lift so any stylish whips can be done with an audience. After ten minutes on the chairlift, we’re at the top of the mountain, enjoying the impressive panoramic views over the picture-perfect Massanutten Ridge and its adjoining valleys. Much bigger than hills, it reminds me of the Black Forest.

Let’s Shred

Eight, hugely diverse trails from easy to advanced are on offer, including the machine-built jump line (‘Brew Thru’) with perfectly sized berms, loads of flow and easily controlled air time. It’s all so good that I wonder who’s behind the trail building. Hailing from Whistler, Bryce Resort’s general manager must have drawn inspiration from Canada when he decided to open Virginia’s first bike park. Calling on Whistler’s experienced trail building company Gravity Logic, he ensured that Bryce would be home to some notable flow sections too.

And there are singletrack style descents here too, such as the Copperhead with a trillion switchbacks, a brief rock garden and root sections. Technical it may be, but steep and bumpy only on occasion. Surprises are in store though, as you reach the little road gap, a rock wall-ride, a high-speed step-up and a small gap over a stream. Creative, well designed and totally in favour of gravity riders to ensure their fun never has to end, the best thing is that the trails intersect with each other and can easily be linked together. When it comes to choosing your trail, there are no limits to creativity.

Better safe than sorry

There are no overly crass, extreme runs as Bryce purposefully isn’t a ‘do or die’ parl, nor a ‘go big or go home’ park; it has been build for beginners and advanced riders alike. Derek explains their intentions: “We aim for everyone! We don’t want to be a park for rippers.” Newbies and kids have to start somewhere; the next generation of gravity riders have to make those first tentative runs – and these need to be fun. Most of the features can be rolled-over, or have a go-around option. Coloured signs clearly show the technical level of each feature and trail, after all, ‘better safe than sorry.’

Of course, once you pick up speed and ride Bryce with some aggression on your bike and line choices then the challenge increases three-fold. Before my first descent I had to take a proper look at the road gap, and I didn’t take the tabletop in the end zone cleanly until my second visit. Bryce won’t get boring for a long time, at least not for me in the knowledge that there’s always more air, always a faster speed. One advantage to Bryce is that you don’t have to rush out and buy a downhill bike to have fun here. If you’re competent on your trail bike, then you’ll take the jumps better than having an unnecessary amount of weight and plush suspension.

The park’s appeal to enduro riders became evident last year, when it staged a grassroots enduro race. Dubbed ‘Back to the Roots’, it hosted a plain and simple race without demanding licenses or splitting into categories or age classes. It was an all-in, every rider for themself, no trophies, no medals, and minimal entry fees kind of race. You rode ‘just for fun’ and solely to earn some bragging rights about the best times you had ridden. It was a throwback to those days you used to race your trail buddies at home; no ‘faster, better, more extreme’, just mountain biking with soul and family. Way to go Bryce, can’t wait for the new season to take off!

 

For more information head to: Bryce Mountain Bike Park

Words and Photos: Steffen Gronegger