"Does anyone here think we may have bitten off more than we can chew?" said one of the riders. "Keep chewing, I mean moving, the pain won't end until the ride is over. Stopping won't get you any closer to the end," I thought to myself.

Ironically, in the days leading up to this epic we had been trying to put a definition on 'suffering'. I was pretty sure I had found it!

It actually began last summer when my husband, Ian, guided a group of guys along the route over a three-day period. The new trails he found in British Columbia’s southern Chilcotin Mountains coupled with the fun flow of familiar ones formed the idea of a beautiful one-day epic in his mind.

The idea resurfaced a couple of times at random through the winter and early spring. The summer equinox came and went and the days slowly but surely started to get shorter. It had to be done now. The group was small and the mission kept quiet. Of course there were lots of capable friends but more friends equal more everything; more mechanicals, more delays, more bonking, and more hangovers from the night before!

So there were three of us, Ian, myself and our partner in all things epic, D'Arcy. D'Arcy and his girlfriend, Jenette (who was looking forward to a day of solitude around the cabin after we left), arrived the evening before. Over gin and tonics the route was discussed. The boys said, "Oh, it will be easy, eight hours, no problem." I said to Jenette, "Don't worry if we're not home tonight, give us till noon the next day before you call anyone." The last epic had gone from an estimated 12 hours to 16 with no problems encountered other than a difficult route. And remember, this route was only done over three days before - eight hours my ass!

"We passed by a 100 year old remote ranching cabin as we left the trees for the open meadows."

The morning arrived sooner than expected with a loud ringing in the ears that turned out to be the alarm. As the coffee perked, D'Arcy crawled through the door into the cabin looking a pale shade of green. We watched the day's stage of the Tour de France for inspiration as D'Arcy disappeared to the deck.  Ian looked up just in time to see D'Arcy adding his personal compost to the plants below!  He looked much better from then on!

Loaded down with peanut butter sandwiches, chocolate and trail mix our ride began at 9am.  Only two hours behind schedule!  The epic form was a little lacking right from the start as we all went through our own personal 'spots of bother' in the warm up process.  The single-track dipped and rolled at a beautiful grade as we climbed along the banks of Relay Creek and we soon developed a nice all day pace.  Wildflowers of every color flanked us as we climbed up the valley surrounded by the tall, rounded red peaks of the Chilcotin Mountains.  We passed by a 100 year old remote ranching cabin as we left the trees for the open meadows.  The scorching power of the sun hit us like a wall.  Every creek was a gift as I dunked my head into the icy water.  Five minutes later I would be dry.

We encountered a group traveling by horseback.  They asked us where we were coming from and going to.  Our route description made their eyes bug out.  All they said was, "So I guess you do this for exercise, not the scenery!"  We do it for the challenge. We had traveled in two and a half hours what had taken them a day and a half!

A little while later we reached a second old cabin with a thick head of grass growing on the roof.  I stumbled over the leg of a deer that had been sucked clean by something!  We sat a little ways away and had lunch.  Riding out of the cabin I gave a little cry as I almost rode over the hide of the deer, licked clean as well!  Moving right along...