24 Hours of Moab Denver Post Oct 17, 2006

24 Hours Of Moab Denver Post Oct 17, 2006

Moab - Laird Knight is not often at a loss for words. Yet, sometime after the umpteenth RV had pulled in and parked at the Behind the Rocks recreation area, after the first time he had climbed the ridge to watch the headlamps of mountain bikers looping the course at night some seven miles on the horizon, after the mass of lycra-and-mud-covered humanity gathered at the awards ceremony to cheer on their rivals as compatriots, it happened.

The 24 Hours of Moab mountain bike race had outgrown his vocabulary. Surprisingly, it still has not outgrown his expectations.

'You simply cannot overstate Moab,' said Knight, founder of West Virginia-based Granny Gear Productions and creator of the 24 Hours of Moab. 'It's impossible to sensationalize this race.'

Now in its 12th year, the 24 Hours of Moab has grown into the largest 24-hour race in the nation, by far. For a few days every October, some 5,000 competitors, support crews and fans flock from around the world to the remote venue roughly 15 miles south of Moab and create the largest dedicated mountain biking community on the planet, a temporary fat-tire town sprouting out of the high-desert grazing lands along the Colorado Plateau complete with food vendors, retail outlets, computer networks and carnival attractions. If you look hard enough, you might find a couple of bike mechanics - say 500 or so.

'It's sort of a party with a purpose,' Knight said. 'A collective effort with a common goal.'

That goal, odd as it might seem, is to determine who can pedal a bicycle the farthest through the dirt for one full revolution of the Earth. Those who have done it describe it as nothing short of life- altering.

As a testimony to the popularity of 24-hour bike racing, Granny Gear this year expanded its offerings from three to six events across the nation. But none comes close to matching the scene at Moab, including the original West Virginia event described as 'Woodstock on Wheels.' Moab was an instant success, Knight said, attracting 124 teams of typically four or five riders in its first year, the largest first-year turnout at only the second 24-hour bike race held.

With a registration cut-off currently set at 450 teams, not even flash flooding could keep competitors away from the annual event last weekend as an estimated 1,500 riders took turns tackling the muddy track until Knight pulled the plug because of safety concerns. By 11 a.m. Sunday, EMTs and medical volunteers had treated 21 riders for hypothermia and other injuries.

Yet, when the race resumed under clearing skies that morning, most of them were back in the saddle, at least one wearing nothing more than bike shorts and a long black wig styled after a 1980s glam- band afro as he hooted and hollered his way around the course. Another rode with a stuffed penguin strapped to his head.

'I love 24 hours racing,' an onlooker said.

The camaraderie and associated esprit de corps is what attracts most competitors to Moab, and according to Knight, who has seen more of these events than anyone, it is the shared experience that lasts longest in people's memories. More than the suffering, the fatigue, the sleep deprivation and the pain, it's the cooperation and the sense of community that lingers.

'There's no question in my mind what it is that people love about this race: It's the teamwork. It's the fun of shared experience,' Knight said. 'The shared experience is so much more gratifying and so much more meaningful than riding by yourself. The idea of quitting actually occurs to you when you're out there, but when your team's waiting for you back here, you just grunt through it.'

There is a certain romance to the notion that so many like- minded mountain bikers have managed to find one another and give life to this otherwise offbeat activity. But as a former racer himself, Knight never doubted they would, going so far as to quit his job, move from Boulder to Davis, W.Va., and dedicate more than a decade of his life to creating opportunities for people to savor a new life experience.

'This race is almost beyond words,' he said. 'And when experience goes beyond words, life begins to have meaning.'

Staff writer Scott Willoughby can be reached at 303-954-1993 or [email protected].