Declaration of Intent– BC Bike Race 2023

BCBR Declaration Update

Well, first and foremost, this is a spooky one. Everything in the original post below (from September 12th) still applies—perhaps even more so than when I wrote it. So, I’m going to make this addition, an amendment to my prior declaration, as I definitely want to honor the moment and the radical ride that was the 2021 BC Bike Race in the interior Okanogan. I consider the original post an Ode to the Okanogan and a dance with vulnerability. 

The day I posted my BCBR Declaration for what I thought would be another rendezvous in September with seven stages of riding and racing in the Okanogan, a little BCBR birdie (insider), planted in my ear, that the dates and location may be a little different for 2023. 

On September 27th, they dropped the news. They are moving the 2023 BC Bike Race back to July—and perhaps most notable of all, they are moving it back to the rooted, lush and loamy trails of the British Columbia Coast. For 2023, the BC Bike Race will be on the move, traversing and traveling the trails of Vancouver Island. 

What does this mean for me? Well, for one, the race is now nine weeks earlier than the one I boldly declared I’d be racing in. This creates a couple complications, the first being the training. With the BC Bike Race historically being a first week of July stage race, I’ve always thought it was a bit out of reach, simply because we typically can’t start riding our Northern Rockies trails here in Southwestern Montana until June, so logging the miles and building the base necessary to pull off such a big endeavor, seemed a steep ask. This means logging more hours and purposeful sessions with structured intensity on the trainer this winter and really hitting the dirt roads hard on the drop bar mountain bike once the snow melts. If healthy, I’ve got the confidence that my dedication and discipline will pay off and that I’ll come up with a solid, Stephen Seiler style game-plan to get the legs and lungs ready for a big seven days of racing the BC Coast. 

It’s the second complication that triggers the loudest unsure part. I’m 12 weeks post-covid and I just made a trip down to the University of Utah to see my doctor, for a nagging thoracic spine injury and wicked case of costochondritis (inflammation of the cartilage where the sternum and ribs connect), that’s got me off the trails, out of the weight room (and pool/water) and simply spinning it out on the drop bar, logging lots of dirt road miles, just to keep myself sane and moving. So, with the July 3-9, dates drop, my recovery window just tightened up. 

So, what’s the plan? Well, on September 28th, I leaned in to the uncertainty—trusting that my body is going to heal and bounce back—and signed up. 

Dr. Kaplan gave some great advice down at the University of Utah when I asked him if it was crazy to sign up for the 2023 BCBR, in the thick of what I’m dealing with—unable to ride a mountain bike right now. He reassured me that there’s no reason why this costochondritis would become chronic, but did warn me that it can last for months. So, in time, I’ll get there. 

He really put it in perspective when he said something to the degree of, “you’re going to be able to do it, or you’re not.” Meaning, I’m going to get healthy, or I’m not, but there’s no reason to believe that I’m not going to make a strong recovery. Pretty simple ya. 

Once again, I’m putting it out there, making a bold proclamation that makes a loud part of me uncomfortable, trusting the process and believing in my bounce back ability. 

To my guy, Marc Harb. Thank you for pushing me my friend. To Moniera (the Queen of Racer Relations), and most of all, to my bride, Amanda, thank you for believing in me and pushing this big trip to the Green Room—Vancouver Island—we’re all in. This is going to be a big summer adventure for my Trio Ohana. 

The rest of the post below is below. 

September 12, 2022

On Friday, September 16, we’ll be flying the Canadian flag in the lower 48, to honor the 400(ish) riders embarking upon the adventure—and for many bucket-list mountain biking experience—of a lifetime, as the 2022 rendition of the BC Bike Race kicks off, with Stage One from Kelowna, BC. To the riders, I tip my hat and encourage you all to mindfully soak up what will undoubtedly be a transformational week on (and off) the bike.

This time last year I was gearing up for my dream bike race (dubbed The Ultimate Singletrack Experience), with a late entry in the 2021 BCBR. What a wild ride it was. After five date changes and three location adjustments, it wasn’t until the middle of September last year that the British Columbia Provincial Government, finally gave the BCBR organizers (true trailblazers and bike race industry superheroes) the green light to host the 2021 event, amid the COVID-19 pandemic, and what an event it was. The new Okanogan location is rugged, splendid and has rip-roaring single-track and XC style riding for days.

It wasn’t until early September that I learned the BC Bike Race was a potential go for October of that year (in years past it was always a July race), and as the stars and my body aligned, it seemed I could be a go. I had dreamt of participating in this event since I first learned of it, a decade earlier. There were only two hitches: I didn’t have a valid passport and I was dealing with a wicked hip flare.

Throwing caution to the wind, Amanda, and I non-revved (flying standby) from Bozeman to Seattle for a one-day rendezvous with the Seattle Passport Agency, hoping for a one-day passport miracle. After spending the entire day there, just before they shut up shop, we walked away with passports in hand.

I vividly remember that trip to Seattle (emailing Moniera Khan–you’ll learn about her below–from the terminal), not just because of the excitement that the passport lottery represented (win a passport and we’re in the BC Bike Race, lose, and it’s a no go), but because my hip pain was legendary that day. I’d been riding and training a lot. August was the first time I’d ever pulled off mountain bike marathon distance races on back-to-back weekends and all the saddle time and efforts had my hip with the 180-degree labrum tear screaming. Walking is never easy for me as I’ve got poorly shaped hips, hence why I say the bike is my wheelchair, and that day, walking the airports and streets, represented a pounding that put me in a serious spot of bother.

I remember a loud part saying, “How is it that you’re putting yourself through all of this, for the chance at a passport, to try and pull off a seven-day stage race, when you can’t even comfortably walk and stand your way through the day?” But we had gone ALL IN, and there was no turning back.

With some help from my PT’s, we calmed down the hip enough to get back to training in the weeks leading up to the event, but then the Monday before the start of the BCBR, I went over the handlebars and properly flared up my hip again. I spent the rest of that week off the bike, in PT, receiving multiple dry needling sessions, in hopes of getting to that Sunday (stage one), start-line, ready to ride.

On the long thirteen-hour drive up to Penticton, BC (a place we fell in love with), I was hurting and didn’t even attempt a shakeout ride the day before the first stage, so the first time I had been on the bike, since the crash, was at the start line of stage one. I had no idea how many stages I’d make it through and fully committed to being in ODAAT (one day at a time) mode, something I write a lot about in my Be Audacious book.

I won’t recap the entire race here (you can check out my 2021 BC Bike Race recap on the BCBR website https://bcbikerace.com/2021-race-recap-from-michael-leach/), but six days and seven stages later, I walked away with that finisher buckle, with a result that I couldn’t have been happier with or prouder of, and most importantly, I walked away having experienced one of the best weeks of my life—the best week on a bike I could have ever imagined—and a truly ALLTIME experience for the memory books.

One of the best things about my 2021 BC Bike Race experience was the connection to people and place. First and foremost, my bride, Amanda, who is the key member of my team, providing everything from nutritional and psychological support to coaching and companionship. Seeing her at the start and finish line each day was a driving force behind the wind in my sails that led to climbing the results ladder day after day. The nightly check ins and updates with my daughter Kamiah, who was back in Bozeman, and my parents, gave me such a big lift and helped navigate the aching legs and pains. Penticton was a dreamy base-camp and the Southern Okanogan is a mountain bikers paradise—enough said.

And then there were the other riders, one of which, Marc Harb, from Lebanon, by way of Dubai, really left a mark. What a stud rider and good human he is. He had several top 50 stage results and walked away with a top 75 finish that was fast and strong and we’ve continued to stay in touch. In June of this year, he broke his collarbone near the finish of Stage One at a four-day stage race in Poland and we’ve been in touch, doing what we can from afar, to lift each other up. There’s just something about relationships forged through the shared experience of something as hard, daunting, and inspiring as the BC Bike Race.

And then there are the people who make this unmatched, unrivaled, bike experience happen. I’ve always said, the BC Bike Race is the stage race by which all other North American stage races are measured. And they didn’t disappoint, not for a day, or a minute.  I can’t say enough about the BC Bike Race crew/team. From Dean Payne (the President and co-founder) who I spent thirty minutes talking story with after a fast and furious tour of Naramata Bench on Stage Six, to John Kearns (Senior Business Advisor & Warehouse Manager) who hooked me up with his new Rocky Mountain 40^th Anniversary cap after Stage Seven, to the radiant, brilliant and queen of Racer Relations, the one and only, Moniera Khan—someone who I had connected with a year prior via email and a woman that has become a friend and one of my strongest IG allies and uplifters.

It’s the people and place—I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather ride and race for seven days than the Okanogan and its surroundings—that make this race so damn special. And this year, for the 2022 rendition of the BC Bike Race they are taking riders steeper and deeper into the Okanogan with my stops in Kelowna, Salmon Arm, Silver Star and Vernon, and they kept my two favorite stages from 2021 on the race agenda for stages six and seven, returning to Apex Mountain and Penticton/Naramata Region for a reunion with The Three Blind Mice trails.

So, sitting here at a coffee shop in Bozeman, MT, five weeks after a minor thoracic spine injury and four weeks following my first positive COVID test, I’m in rest and recovery mode. A wicked case of Costochondritis (inflammation of the cartilage where the sternum and ribs connect) has me once more, injured and in a spot of bother—with my daughter applying my deodorant each morning. The doctors have told me not to even think about training for the next three months and to slowly ease my way back in, allowing this chest flare to die down and doing whatever I can to avoid anything related to chronic COVID. I’m getting a handful of easy pavement rides in each week on the drop bar mountain bike (I think some call it a gravel bike 😉 just to keep the mind steady and body moving—as an athlete with ankylosing spondylitis, I’ve always said the best lotion (for the joints) is motion, and I’ve turned my focus, my hopes, my dreams and my belief in my body’s ability to heal to bouncing back strong in 2023.

It’s funny, being a spondy athlete, I’ve suffered a lot of injuries (most of which have come in the form of the dreaded overuse injury), and anytime I’m unable to ride my bike, or train in the weight room or pool, it requires some seriously heavy lifting mentally. Add to the loss of 8-14 hours a week of doing something I love, the physiological changes that occur when you don’t have that big release of exercise induced chemicals that make us feel alive, well and balanced, and it’s always a steep task to keep my. head up, eyes forward and feet moving. So, I’ve rarely ever announced my intent to participate in an event to the world, before I arrive at the start-line, as it’s always seemed like it would just make a painful situation (being out with an injury or illness), even more unbearable, if the dream doesn’t become reality.

Twenty- twenty-two was off to a grand start. When I look at a sixteen month period between 2021 and 2022, it’s almost hard to fathom how much I pulled off: The Gold Rush (and a top 3), York 38 Special (w/ a big time drop and a top 5), Big Sky Biggie, The Long Bridge Swim, Swim the Fish, THE BC Bike Race, my audacious White Rim In A Day solo endeavor, another Long Bridge Swim and The Crusher In The Tushar (dubbed as the toughest 70 miles on the planet). Just typing all of this makes me smile so big as this was a true celebration of health and fitness.

And then in one week I had a freakish thoracic spine injury following this year’s Long Bridge Swim and tested positive for COVID—which hit me like a truck, and my 2022 race season is done and what started off as another summer/season for the memory books, has quickly turned into one I look forward to putting in the rearview mirror.

I’d be lying if I said that there’s not a part of me that’s uncomfortable making a big proclamation with the uncertainty of being a month into this post-covid Costochondritis and thoracic spine pain, both of which have been painful, persistent and pretty debilitating, and yet I have an even louder part that feels like I have to manifest my return to health by believing fully that my body will bounce back as it always has, and that I’ll be back on the trainer, in the weight room and pool this winter, gearing up for a memorable 2023 and another celebration of health and fitness.

So, for the first time, I’m making a big, bold and daring proclamation (instead of just slipping in if the body’s right), a year in advance of the most audacious mountain bike race I know. The day registrations opens, I’m signing up, and in 2023, my main man Marc Harb (now residing in Germany) and I will be lining up—bodies willing—for Stage One of the 2023 BC Bike Race.

We’ll see you in Kelowna, BCBR Fam! Last time was the ride of a lifetime, but this time, I’m going to get TWELVE months to marinate mindfully on what will undoubtedly be a glorious British Columbia reunion, with people and place that have haunted me (in the most beautiful way possible) since October of 2021.

Don’t call it comeback, because we never went anywhere.

We’re ALL IN on BCBR 2023!

With nothin’ but love, Michael