Yeah. Um…about that. We ripped it off from the Canadians. Who ripped it off from zee Germans. Who live next to the Swiss.
Who from their ivory tower in Aigle (is it just us, or does that sound like Urkel?) have done a masterful job of balling up the soul of our sport, stripping it of all value and integrity, methodically monetizing it (when not treating it as an afterthought), and selling it’s new TV-friendly 4km gerbil-track and ELIMINATOR(!!!) formatted face to the highest bidder.
Of which there are none. Bidders that is. Why? Dope scandals, hubris, apathy, egomaniacal leaders. Pick one. Shit. Pick ’em all. It’s your birthday, bud.
So why Breck Epic? Let us consult the words of our friend Inigo Montoya;
Inigo: I am waiting for you, Vizzini. You told me to go back to the beginning. So I have. This is where I am, and this is where I’ll stay. I will not be moved.
Brute: But the Prince gave orders –
Inigo: — So did Vizzini — when a job went wrong, you went back to the beginning. And this is where we got the job. So it’s the beginning, and I’m staying till Vizzini comes.
Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up;
The Breck Epic. Back to the beginning. When mountain biking was a about big rides with friends. About lending a hand when a rider went down. About a shared experience that somehow, flying in the face of all logic, disproportionately enriched all involved.
The Epic is composed of 6 BIG backcountry loops (3 loops for the 3-day Epic-curious events), each between 35 and 50 miles long. The event is unique in that it employs a cloverleaf format; each loop starts and finishes within a mile from downtown Breckenridge and utilizes the sprawling network of trails in both Summit and Park Counties.
When mapping out the courses we asked ourselves; “What big rides would we want to tackle if we had most of the day to slaughter and 6 of our best friends?” The answer lies before you. The six stages that compose the Epic are a well-rounded rider’s dream. Long middle-ring climbs, endless big-ring mashing descents.
In a bizarre way, we have the assorted governing bodies to thank. Their pleated-chino-tasseled-loafer-old-boy’s-roadie-club management of mountain biking was so offensive, so galling, so criminal to us that we took it upon ourselves to do something about it. The result? A 6-day race that lives among a small but thriving handful of kick-ass bucket-list races.
The race is rad. The courses are beyond fun. The vibe? Mid-90’s mayhem.
If that sounds like your cup of tea, come join us. But leave your USAC membership card along with the associated rulebook at home. We’ve got great people in a great town with courses that you’re gonna need to ride to believe. What else do you really need?
We do have rules though.
- Don’t be a dick. (This really covers a lot of ground.)
- Rule #1 (subsection 1): are you now serving or have you ever served a USADA or WADA suspension? Yes? You’re out.
- Wear your helmet. Don’t be a stoopie.
- Don’t litter in our beautiful backcountry. Seriously. Hump your empty gel packets out or we’ll kick you out of the race and bray your name across the digital ether as a filthy, naughty, disgustingly self-adoring litterbug. And while that will be fun for us, it’s guaranteed to SUCK for you.
Anything else that pops up? We’ll do what’s right and what’s fair. That’s been working pretty well so far.
Head HERE to register for 2015.