See this article and others in The World Stage 2018.
Words: Chris Kilmurray || Photo: Sven Martin
The absence of uniformity, expression, diversity, variety. The possibility of unique, individual solutions. For so many of us, this is the draw of mountain biking. OK, to some extent we all kind of conform to a tribe within a tribe and follow the trends of kit, bike geometry, colours and language, but the boundaries in MTB are very broad. You can share a story about your local trails in South Africa with someone from Sweden – different dirt, different rock, sand versus snow – but you’ll still be able to relate.
The 2018 EWS season started with the now-biannual pilgrimage to South America, a continent so vast it spans two hemispheres and houses some of the planet’s wettest and driest places. Stark contrasts were somewhat prophetic as high altitude round one in Chile dished up moon dust and pumice rock very alien to many of the northern hemisphere’s top dogs, the ‘anti-grip’ as unique as it gets. Stage two was the longest to date in EWS history at 11km long with 1739m of descending and a star altitude of 3600m. Compare that to stage five at merely 2.5km long and you get a glimpse of EWS diversity. That, though, was on a trail with quite similar demands. When racing wrapped up in Chile and the circus trucked north to Colombia, same continent, similar longitude, Diversity got stamped on passports.
Back-to-back racing is a huge physical challenge, all the body’s systems trying to recover as riders wolf down aeroplane bread. Greeting racers in Manizales, Colombia, were some of the shortest stages ever, but no less challenging. High altitude, lush vegetation and coffee plantations nestled in dense forest. The sound the bikes made on trails heavy with moisture was a mind-melt after Chile’s anti-grip. While Manizales gets enough rainfall to sink a navy, the heavens stayed shut before the street-stage prologue, luckily, as 200m of vertical steps and tarmac would have been tricky.
If enduro’s four-wheeled cousin, World Rally, had this much tarmac in a rally, they may well totally change the specification of the car. Ride height, suspension, brakes, tyres, engine mapping and management, launch control. You name it and it might change, culminating in gained seconds. Chile and Colombia dished up the starkest of contrasts, but the bikes and setups remained similar. The beauty of EWS – or any bicycle racing for that matter – is that the rider’s mass outweighs that of the bike by 6:1 or more. Adapting to diversity is a rider-led challenge.
Leaving South America behind, riders rested and re-grouped. Rounds three and four would see them traversing the heartlands of European MTB, France then Slovenia/Austria. Summed up simply as rock then root. Knowing how to ride these trails for maximum speed, minimal distance is experience dependant. Yes, it’s a bike and the trail points down, but straightening out a root-infested twisty tapestry littered with catch berms in Slovenia requires a very different approach to smoothing the tightest of rocky jank in France. Same ride, same bike but demands on technique so varied some sports would ask for a new discipline to be introduced.
There are few sports to my knowledge that demand this level of mastery of diversity, and they are all quite ‘enduro’. World Rally, Rally Raid, World Super Enduro (motorbikes) and enduro MTB… add extras if you know them. Maybe the common denominator is the freedom a vehicle allows? As impressive as a sport like Alpine skiing is, and as challenging as the varying snow conditions from ice to slush can be, it’s still snow and your turning gates will be at known distances per discipline. EWS can spend half a season in the Alps just like ski racing, but the skiers will never touch dirt. In contrast, l’ve raced an EWS with snow.
The trip to La Thuile in Italy is another biannual affair and for good reason, as this is, in my mind, the epitome of enduro. It’s wholesome, wholesale carnage. Big elevation, huge terrain changes and the best dirt on the east side of Mont Blanc. There are those who say an enduro World Champion should only be crowned after a season and not one race, but if a champion was crowned after two days racing in La Thuile they’d be pretty worthy.
Cut from similar alpine lift-assisted cloth is Canada’s Whistler. A lot more ‘park’ than La Thuile, yet its vast terrain means rat life in the park isn’t part of the EWS experience. This race’s queen stage, ‘Top of the World’, has solidified its place in the calendar. Like the Alpe d’Huez hairpins for road cycling, Anaheim for Supercross or Wimbledon for Tennis, Top of the World is a race within a race. Twenty-plus minutes of brutal trail. Racing it is not like riding.
The final race of the year in Finale Ligure has many known elements: so many racers train and ride there. The area is split into three distinct valleys, all with trails that have their hallmarks. 2018 saw the racers head as far from base camp as ever and race a wild bit of new high-speed trail above the village of Spotorno. Ainsa, Spain, the round before Finale, is in the foothills of the Pyrenees and is as dry as its Italian counterpart. They could have dished out dry, fast and barrelled-out trails like those often faced in Finale, but instead diversity reigned supreme. Fresh cut, narrow and nibbly. Ainsa’s stage one alone had more descent, distance and diversity than most racers would get in a season at a regional series. A rider could learn a lot about adapting technique and tactics for racing by ending their season at those last two rounds. One day’s racing versus two, loam versus rock, four stages versus seven. 2018 once again proving the EWS unique in its diversity.
by Chris Kilmurray heads up Point1Athletic, coaching some of mountain biking’s brightest talents.
If you enjoy reading this, you should check out The World Stage. It’s got many features like it, plus round-by-round accounts of the UCI Enduro World Cup and pore over hundreds of the best images of the season in The World Stage Book 2023 yearbooks are available now.
