June 29, 2007 (Champery, Switzerland) – The idea of racing pro and following the World MTB Cup circuit all over the globe sounds romantic, adventurous and, well, like a pretty sugar-coated life. I caught up with some of Canada’s top cross country mountain bike racers, when we were gearing up for World MTB Cup #3 in Champery, Switzerland, and found out that while a big part of being on the road is fun, it’s not all chocolate croissants and frothy Euro microbrews. And besides, sometimes all you really want is a bagel and a large coffee to go.

Pedal invited all the Canadian racers we could round up to a “family dinner” at Restaurant Central, a cozy, wood-panelled establishment in the midst of tiny Champery. The village clings to a steep, green hillside above a cliff in the sweeping Ports du Soleil network of ski resorts that spills over the border between Switzerland and France.

Seamus McGrath (Can) Rocky Mountain-Haywood led the seven of us to the largest of the wooden tables and we sat down noisily, scraping our wooden chairs on the dark stone floor. We all looked at one another and smiled, all probably thinking the same thing, that while we see one another almost every weekend during the long racing season, we rarely get to sit down and have a good chat.

Around the table in the warm, tavern light, sat Kris Sneddon (Can) Kona-Les Gets, Max Plaxton (Can) Rocky Mountain-Haywood, McGrath, Wendy Simms (Can) Kona-Les Gets, Catharine Pendrel (Can) Norco Factory Team, Kiara Bisaro (Can) Opus and myself, Sandra Walter (Can) X.O-Felt Women’s MTB Team. We had all been in Europe for a while, chasing World Cup races and UCI points. Most of us were self-funding our European assault and were keenly aware of the high cost of living and were relying on the generousity of others for everything from accommodations and meals to getting a feed on race day.

Bisaro, Plaxton and McGrath directed curious glances at Simms, who was sporting a scratched, swollen nose and a shiner on her right eye that not even the low light could hide. “Kris punched her in the face with his tire,” Pendrel explained, breaking into a giggle. “It’s all fun and games until you get a tire in the face.” While pre-riding the course, Sneddon’s front tire had slipped out on a slick root, causing his bike to nose dive and pop the rear wheel up directly into Simms, who was riding too close behind him. The tread hit her smack in the mug.

It was the Wednesday before the big competition and we had all been on the course, so once the source of Simms’ black eye was cleared up, the conversation turned to the upcoming race. The Champery loop got stamps of approval from all of us. With its abundant twisty, technical, rooty singletrack in the woods, it made sense that we liked it, since we all hailed from B.C., and it felt like riding on the West Coast. “It’s real mountain biking,” declared McGrath, with the implication that he didn’t think necessarily all the European courses were the real thing.

“In 100km, there was not one bit of singletrack,” he commented about the marathon in Willingen, Germany where he placed third the weekend before. Plaxton and McGrath marveled at the “mountain bike marathon phenomenon” in Europe. Over 2,500 men lined up at 7:30 a.m. to contest the race and Willingen wasn’t an isolated incident. During the racing season, there are similar events every weekend and they’re all well attended, with most of the competitors being recreational riders, looking for a challenge. “It’s crazy,” said McGrath.

“Hey, check it out,” interjected Sneddon, completely off-topic. “Seamus is growing out his hair.” Everyone’s eyes focused on McGrath’s blond curls that were long enough at the back to brush his shirt collar. Sneddon’s hair, on the other hand, was closely shaved and looked the same as it had for years.

McGrath and Plaxton ordered a Guinness apiece, while the rest of us split large bottles of mineral water. McGrath then picked up the wine list, studied it like a regular connoisseur and ordered an Argentinian red for the table. The two Rocky Mountain-Haywood boys also eagerly ordered a fois gras appetizer. “You’ve gotta try it, it’s sweet, like dessert,” urged Plaxton to those of us who turned up our noses at the thought of duck liver. It really did hold a rich sweetish flavour, but it wasn’t exactly my idea of dessert.

The marathon topic resumed, but this time it turned to Canada’s courses and the inaugural seven-day BC Bike Race, of which McGrath will do the final three stages as a guest rider. One of those stages will be the Rat Race course, a 50-kilometre route on the Sunshine Coast. At the mention of the Sunshine Coast, Sneddon let out a giant sigh. Sneddon, who was born and raised there (but now lives in Victoria), had been regularly subjecting Simms, Pendrel and I (the four of us were sharing accommodations) to these soulful sighs for the past few days. He also made constant comments like: “I can’t believe I’m going to be home on Sunday,” “I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed,” and “When I get home, I’m going to [insert activity here].” Sneddon was seriously homesick.

But Sneddon wasn’t the only one. “I’ve been eating French food” for the past two months, complained Bisaro. “I haven’t had curry in so long,” she added as she dove her fork into the big bowl of Thai green curry the waiter put in front of her. Bisaro flew to Europe after competing in the Sea Otter Classic in April and had been racing and living in France since. In fact, Bisaro hadn’t been to her home in Courtenay, B.C. very much at all. She spent the winter in Montreal, living and training at the national centre, where her only focus was on working towards a medal at the 2008 Summer Olympics. Most of her training had been indoors and very regimented. She hadn’t been able to ride outside: “It was cold… -40 sometimes,” she said. And because there wasn’t much snow in eastern Canada last winter, she couldn’t even go cross country skiing.

“Are you going to do it again next year,” Simms asked?

“Nope,” said Bisaro emphatically. “I’m not planning to go back. I don’t think I’m any farther ahead because of it.” Plus, she missed all the great trails at home and the luxury of being able ride outdoors all year round.

McGrath was also showing signs of homesickness. “This is Euro steak,” he said a little disappointedly, as he cut the meat on his plate, “it’s super thin.” He was craving a big, thick serving of Canadian beef.

Both McGrath and Plaxton were frustrated with their World Cup races two weekends earlier in Offenburg, Germany, which had been marred with bike problems. McGrath’s derailleur hanger had snapped off, which forced him out, while Plaxton crashed in the start loop and suffered a bent hanger, causing constant shifting problems. Plaxton still pulled off a solid 26th-place ride, but felt he would have been even farther up there, had it not been for the hanger issue. “I had good legs, I was riding good in the woods,” he said.

“Hey, is this your last year in U23?” Bisaro asked Plaxton suddenly? “You must be pretty excited,” she added when Plaxton nodded in affirmation. “Yeah, actually I am,” he said, relaxed in his chair at the head of the table. Plaxton was the second U23 Men’s finisher in Offenburg, which means a medal at the World Championships is a real possibility.

Everyone had finished their meals and the issue of dessert came up. We glanced at one another enquiringly, trying to gauge whether or not we had to play the “I’m a serious athlete, I don’t eat dessert” role. Luckily the waiter pressed dessert menus into our hands, so we were forced to look.

Sneddon ordered a chocolate tart with strawberry and basil sorbet and a coffee. “I can rock it,” he said, after someone commented on how hard it was to sleep after drinking coffee so late. He claimed that because of the nine-hour time difference between Europe and home, he could still sleep like a baby after loading up on caffeine in the evening. He then told us of the legendary Nespresso coffee machine he had taken advantage of at the Swiss host family’s house, where he and Simms had stayed between World Cups. At the touch of a button, the machine delivered a perfect cup of coffee. Besides coffee, their host family had treated them to Swiss delicacies, like raclette and rösti.

Amidst the talk of European delicacies, Pendrel, who was working on her ice cream sundae topped with melted Toblerone chocolate, piped in: “Sometimes I just want a large cup of coffee to go.” Her comment was on how in Europe, coffee is a sit-down social event, where the strong brew is served in small cups and sipped slowly. When she e-mailed me a few days later, after returning home to Kamloops, B.C., she wrote: “Went out for a Starbucks my first day back. Two sips and I had the hugest buzz and there was still a full Grande to be drunk. It was awesome!”

Simms didn’t seem to miss any of the food at home. In fact, being a self-confessed chocolate addict, she loved the variety of handmade truffles she came across in basically every bakery she could find. The only time I could sense a little bit of homesickness, was when she spoke of her husband, Norm Thibault. “He’s definitely what I miss most,” she said. “He’s my training buddy, my support, he fires me up and motivates me.”

For me, it’s also the people I miss most. Spending months at a time in Europe, I don’t crave ketchup, peanut butter, cheddar cheese or timbits. I can feel at home almost anywhere in the world, but it’s only when I think of my friends and family back in B.C. that I get a little nostalgic.

After we had finished our desserts (yes, all of us had indulged), we stepped out into the narrow street. The sun had set, but the sky was still indigo from its fading rays and the jagged Dents de Midi Mountains. We walked slowly back to what were our temporary homes for the week, and wished one another a good night. The evening, with its familiar faces, talk of home and conversation that didn’t need any translation had helped us all curb our homesickness a little.