free flowing munny By Marla Streb

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

A Snapshot of the "Flow"
We weren't going “free-riding”, we were going “flow-riding”. We were in Whistler, Canada after all, eh?This is what my friend, Munny, told me moments before our ride. Munny is a fireman who invited me to stay with him during the Crankworx festival. My accommodations consisted of a tiny room in the firehouse in the center of Whistler village. Next to my bed was a pile of thick pants surrounding two heavy rubber boots. That was comforting because that's how my husband stores his outfits at home. Right on the floor.Across from my dorm room door was a shinny brass, slippery, 42 foot pole. Much to my terror, he made me slide down it as part of some sort of friend-of-a-firefighter initiation. I clung on the pole so tightly that my legs squeaked in protest and my belt ripped right out of its loops. This weekend I was racing the Crankworx Enduro Downhill. It's a huge event by North American standards, and in a town that satisfies every downhiller's fantasies. But what I really wanted to do was hit some of the famed “flow” trails that adorn all the mags. These trails that I hear are as much wooden as dirty. Munny informed me that we wouldn't be using cross country bikes; we'd need some 'all mountain' bikes. Obviously, we couldn't use downhill bikes, and free-ride bikes were out because there would be steep climbing. We couldn't wear lycra because the only people who wear lycra in Whistler are in the ballet. And there is no ballet there. I asked how these trails are classified. What are the criteria for “Flow”? And why are these not ”Free”? Evidentally this was not a simple question, because after three days interrogation, I never got a simple answer. But I did gather some clues.We had to drive to the Flow trails because afterall, the ones at Whistler were really just downhill trails (but the BEST I've ever ridden, I must say). Munny pointed out stunt after stunt that were visible from the car. The road-gapping, rock drop-offing, mind-boggling tests of the laws of physics were, I was told, “Free-Ride” stunts. And massive they were. We would have nothing to do with those. We were going “Flow-Riding”.Munny flowing...The trails we hit were works of beauty. I wanted to take pictures of every banked wooden bridge, every double-apexed turn to blind hip-jump, every genius roll-in to imbedded rock run-out. I felt that obliviously riding these trails was almost a waste. To simply let section after section go by under my tires without any kind of appreciation of this art created by Canadians was blasphemy. I wanted to Freeze the Flow.But we just kept on riding because I couldn't get my camera to work.
By Marla Streb