By Thair Peterson
Nancy Harris’ life is going downhill fast, and she loves it.
This downhill bicycle-racing grandmother of three has been timed at 38
mph, and in her event of hurtling through rough terrain, she can hit speeds
up to 45 mph. Fortunately for Nancy, the most serious injuries have been
contusions, sprains and cuts.
She recently won first place at the NORBA Nationals in Big Bear, one of
five events put on by the National Off-Road Bicycle Association. In early
June, she graduated to the Expert class. Shortly after that, she won three
races at events in Big Bear like the Snow Summit Amateur Cup and the Gotta
Thunder Downhill. From here, the next jump would be to the professional
ranks.
“There was a young woman who died. She broke her neck,” Nancy says. “That’s only happened once before. It was a freak thing. There were also two broken backs, a broken neck (where the rider survived), and a broken collarbone.”
One glimpse at her life history, and it’s hardly surprising that she’s willing to take the risk.
“Having been raised on a motorcycle is what made the difference for me,” Nancy says.
Maybe it was the mini-bike she got at age 5, which she would ride up and down the railroad tracks in Huntington Beach. At 13, she got her first street bike. She had done her first Baker to Las Vegas motorcycle race before entering Huntington Beach High, where she joined the motocross team.
“My female competition was lacking, so I switched to racing guys, but it was too brutal for me,” she says.
Two years out of high school, she had retired from motocross. She went into trials competition, an event “where you go really slow and go over obstacles,” she said. “I could do wheelies for miles.”
Meanwhile,
there was a career to consider. She worked at Miller’s Outpost for
16 years before a layoff brought her to Metropolitan, where she worked on
the Help Desk for eight years before transferring to the Technical Assistance
Center two years ago. She coordinates all videoconferences, helps with Web
site design and maintenance, and performs the usual TAC duties such as supporting
the board of directors, helping employees with graphics and PowerPoint presentations
and loaning out projectors, laptops and digital cameras.When she returned to riding as a leisure activity, it was as a cyclist. At her Riverside home next to Lake Mathews, she can ride for hours.
“I rode bikes for 15 years before I found any women to ride with,” Nancy says.
Two years ago this November, Nancy discovered the Orange County-based Trail Angels, a women’s bike club consisting largely of stay-at-home moms, many of them business owners. Now she maintains their Web site.
On her Fridays off, she hops on the toll road for a 90-minute drive to Whiting Ranch Wilderness Park or Aliso Woods Canyon in south Orange County for 90 minutes of riding with her buddies, followed by lunch and a 90-minute drive home. It was the Trail Angels who turned Nancy on to the thrill of downhill.
An organization called Girls Love Dirt sponsors an annual Women’s Only Weekend at Big Bear Lake. In June 2002, the Trail Angels insisted that Nancy come along.
“I
went to the downhill clinic, did the race, won a medal and told my husband
I had to have a downhill bike,” Nancy says. “The rest is history.
I’ve been racing ever since.”The racing season runs from January through November. The races are timed events, generally ranging from 3 to 10 minutes.
“Some courses have pedaling uphill, but very little. A lot of downhill racers detest pedaling, but you still have to have that sprinting skill,” Nancy says. Nancy has recently added training at the BMX track to improve her sprinting speed. And to top it off, her two grandsons now race BMX as well.
“The boys get a big kick out of practicing with ‘grandma and grandpa,’ she says.
“Some people think that downhill is just ‘Riding up the chair lift and coasting down,’ but it’s not that simple. You do pedal, as fast as your little heart can stand. Of course, the faster you go, the easier it is to maneuver over or around obstacles,” says Nancy, who rides an 18-gear modified Santa Cruz Bullit, an entry-level bike that retails for about $3,500. With a front-fork suspension and rear shock absorber that can “travel” up to seven inches, “it’s like riding a Barcalounger downhill,” she says.
Downhill racing has introduced Nancy to places like Bootleg Canyon in Nevada, where the course can switch suddenly from dirt to rocks, or simply take an instant 10-foot plunge.
“When you crash there, you crash hard,” Nancy says.
Medical advances and safety gear have made the sport safer, but only up to a point.
“I do have friends who have broken their necks and recovered,” Nancy explains. “We used to think of broken necks as automatic death.”
Nancy
sheathes herself in a suit of Dainese body armor, the type the pros use,
and the emergency technicians say the armor has made a big difference in
reducing injuries.But while the new super flexible suspension can absorb the shock of a major drop-off, it can also be “like a pogo stick gone mad,” Nancy says. Cyclists once hurtled over handlebars are now ejected like a rodeo bronc buster, and “there is no material at this time which can take that kind of impact,” she says.
“One of the people we race with recently crashed and is now a quadriplegic,” Nancy says.
But for Nancy, the exhilarating combination of freedom and fear as the wind rushes through her helmet continues to be irresistible.
Right now, she races in the 40 to 49 Expert category as part of the Arizona-based No Brakes Racing Team. She is also their webmaster.
“I look forward to racing in the Grand Masters class. Since I’m only 46, I have a ways to go,” Nancy says. “My goal is to still be racing after 55, the Lord willing.”
