The lead up to the race started last year when Shane had signed up to do the 3-day version of the 2025 Pisgah Stage Race. I volunteered to take the drive down with her and ride some of the trails on my own. The race was unfortunately cancelled due to forest fires which lead to a whirlwind mountain bike trip to Girona.

Flash forward to November 2025. Shane had her deferred registration and I had FOMO. In December, I decided to commit to do the race with her.

A well laid out training plan went in the bin after the Northeast got crushed with back to back snow storms. Was three outdoor mountain bike rides and time on Alpe du Zwift enough to finish Pisgah Stage Race?

prologue

The first battle was getting to the race. The drive from NYC without traffic is 11.5 hours. We loaded up the car with our bikes, kit, Dougie (Shane’s dog) and as many gels, goos, and gummies I had around the apartment and started plodding our way southward.

The initial plan was to stop somewhere about 1 - 2 hours away from Brevard. After some quick discussion, and in the spirit of endurance events, we decided to do the drive in one shot.

Shane and I took 3 hour shifts driving and joked that we would keep a running tally of drive time to bike time. We took our lunch break in Harrisonburg and rode the trails at Hillandale Park which is a small trail system with a well maintained jump line and fun rock features. It was 5ish PM and we still had 6 hours to go to get to Brevard.

We chatted on goals and decided that finishing the race and not cramping was the plan - I was sheepish to expect anything else.

We finally arrived in Brevard at 11:30PM, a bit later than expected and passed out from the day's effort.

The tally was 12 hours drive time to 45mins bike time.

The following day we did a quick shakeout ride on the first small loop of the Stage 1 course, went to Walmart to pick up the stage race essentials: mini cokes, seltzers, and uncrustables and turned in early to rest up for the next 3 days.

stage 1: White Squirrel Route

The route numbering is based on the 5-day race (Stage 3 of the 5-day race was Stage 1 of the 3-day Race)

For the 5-day racers this was the “Queen” Stage. For the 3-day racers, it was baptism by fire. This stage offered ~5,800ft of climbing and was paired with the most popular descents in Pisgah. Fortunately, I’ve ridden a good chunk of these trails on a trip here in 2023 so while I was nervous I had something to reference.

On the first little loop (Grassy Hill to Upper Sycamore) the field was bunched up and pushing the pace. There was little to no room to pass, so I rode the pace that the people around me were going and picked my way through the rooty / ledgey descent.

It was time for the first sustained climb of the day — I was mentally prepared to lock in for an hour and was tapping away. I’m a climber-type and knew this was my time to make-up some places. After a bit of climbing, I hemorrhaged places on the brief gravel descent before the route turned upward on Clawhammer Rd where I ‘clawed’ (hah), my way back to the group I lost on the descent.

I synced up with Shane at the first rest stop (moved up to mile 14 from mile 18) and went on to the hike-a-bike section, which was a game of what is the optimal strategy to not cramp? Keep walking or try to get back on the bike.

We next hit Avery Creek and I lead a small group of three down most of the descent. The folks behind me were nice and let me know I was doing a good job of getting us down the trail safely, which was much appreciated as my internal monologue was just me screaming wishing I was the one following wheels. I cleared almost all of Avery Creek — which checked off another goal of mine for the weekend, prove to myself that I was a better bike handler than when I was here last in 2023.

We climbed again to get to Bennet Gap Trail which was today’s enduro ‘timed’ section. The trail winds along a ridge where you can catch views of Looking Glass Rock and Pisgah Ledge. Most of the racers were underbiking for this trail trying to ride what they could and shuffle down the sections they couldn’t.

Bennett Gap was unsurprisingly hard for me, if not a bit demoralizing. I did so much walking and thinking that by the time the trail mellowed out to things I could ride, I was out of sorts. I kept telling myself that I’m here for a long time (not a good time).

At the bottom of Bennett Gap, the folks at the aid station gave me a ton of pickle juice and were really nice and reminded me that I could also be here for a good time. I waddled back onto my bike and started on the last climb of the day. I was trying to hype myself up that it's so cool we have bikes and bodies that can do this. And somehow landed at telling myself “your body is a wonderland” Sure, whatever gets the job done.

Bennett Gap before it got rowdy! Shout out to the photographer for getting a picture of me on my bike rather than cursing next my bike.

We reached the final descent so it was time for my final pee break. A lady stopped for me asking if I wanted someone to look out. I said no, thanks, it's okay if someone sees my ass at this point (classy). Little did I know, that was the woman in second who only finished 2 mins ahead of me! A real, I would have came in second butt…

I had a great time on the final descent but needed to take a few breaks to stretch my hands that were tired from grabbing brake.

I’ll pass it off to Shane to recap the last two stages.

Stage 2: Carl Schenk Route

Although on paper this stage seems easier than the day before (only 4k feet of elevation!), it was far harder mentally.

It started with about 4 miles of on-the-flatter-side-of-rolling pristine gravel that led into a double track climb. I went into the day 9 minutes up on the field (the field = Hannah and one other woman), but I got nearly all of that advantage on the enduro descent the day before, and I was pretty sure any chance I had of winning a stage with a two-hour climb in it would have to include a fair amount of drafting above my pay grade in that initial 4 miles to gain an advantage. Also, drafting is fun. So we turned off our baby neutral rollout and onto the gravel and I knew the people at the front would start pushing the pace.

I was too far back. I was drafting easily, but each wheel I latched onto slowly came off the back of the field. The first mile had me sprinting around man after man as they popped off. I finally settled with a group of two, including the woman in third in the 5-day women’s open field, who comfortably came in more than an hour ahead of me the day before. As I desperately spun up to try to hold her wheel as the little group came by me, she made a comment to me that suggested she thought I was racing her. Most flattering thing that happened to me all week.

I was racing (with) her, for about five minutes. Then we hit the double track and I said goodbye (to myself, as she was too far in front to hear me by the time I got the words out). I settled into the double track climbing at mostly my own pace, although my quite frankly excellent drafting skills had put me FAR ahead of where I naturally would be in the pecking order, so many, many groups of people leapfrogged me as I went up. With each group, I’d jump on the back and try to hang on as long as possible, without going too far above threshold. Did I get dropped from 15 different groups, or did I smartly use other racers to slightly increase my pace up that climb? We’ll never know.

Then I hit Squirrel Gap’s singletrack and I shifted from constantly asking myself whether I could do this pace for 5 hours to asking myself whether I could do this at all as I watched my wheel navigate over rocks on a foot-wide off camber that was sliding off a mountain. Mostly, the answer was yes, although there were a few rock sections that I walked. Mostly, I was pleased that not that many people passed me on the singletrack. It was, in hindsight, a pretty fun section.

Then there was a creek crossing. Then I was climbing. I was climbing, and climbing, also eating a little, and still climbing. It was starting to get hot, and when the aid station finally came into view, I took shot after shot of pickle juice and searched for my bag which had….. the most beautiful roasted potato I’ve ever seen. Gels this, super carb sludge that, people are sleeping on putting a big ass roasted red potato in a jersey pocket. (According to a definitely not owned by Big Potato website called potatogoodness dot com, the average red potato has 110 calories, 26g carbs, and more potassium than a banana.)

Anyway the thing to know about the potato is that I decided to eat it on the go, which is how I ended up in the wrong gear, headed up a 15% grade, holding on to a giant potato with my teeth as I tried to breathe around it. There was at least one rideable rock garden that I sacrificed to that potato. Eventually I got it all down, and focused on the second half of the two hour climb: 2 climb2steep, also known as Laurel Mountain Trail. There were three parts of Laurel for me. The first third was full of small(ish) rock features that had to be hiked over for 10-20 feet. They were frequent enough that I thought I might have a breakdown because I was miles from where I was told the “hike a bike” started, and yet somehow already hiking. But I pulled it together, and then it got fun (the trail got fun, my attitude followed). I had enough fun on enough flow and stayed on my bike for FULL MINUTES that I almost forgot how bad I knew it was going to get. That’s when the third part started, the real hike a bike, which is honestly not that long, but it’s straight up, with plenty of features that you have to physically lift your bike over, and it was hot and sunny and exposed, and this is the experience that was the most fresh in my mind when I later texted my coach that I’d experienced “maybe the worst two hours on a bike ever.”

I sat down on a log for 2-5 minutes at what I thought was the top but turned out to be just mostly the end of hike-a-bike chatting with the lovely course marshal, I then climbed yet more, and finally entered the Pilot Rock descent, which I was in no way ready for. One of the things that I learned on this trip is that you actually have to have energy in the tank to enjoy a descent. I think all the energy in the world probably wouldn’t have allowed me to enjoy trying to race Pilot Rock having never seen it before outside of one DirtWire.tv video I watched in March of 2025. But trying to race it after climbing for two hours really killed any good vibes. I walked more than I needed to or otherwise would have. I crashed once. I didn’t cry, but I did hate most of it. Eventually though it was over, and there was nothing between me and a cold can of coke other than several leg cramps and the reverse of the 4 mile champagne gravel from the beginning to complete the lollipop. It felt longer and less enjoyable on the other side, by myself, exhausted, and on the verge of cramping, but I made it in just a touch under 5 hours.

The day of the race it felt like the hardest day on a bike I’d ever had. I swore I’d never do it again. And yet. And yet. If someone invited me to, I’d probably say yes. Might bring more than one potato, and certainly plan my potato-eating strategy more carefully.

Stage 3: The Land of Waterfalls Route

On the third day, we raced again. With just a touch over 3,000 feet of climbing and a nice neutral warm up to the start line, stage 3 was one of the best days on a bike I’ve ever had. I felt like my legs woke up, and I crested the first gravel climb of the day in a train of women, following at a pace that felt hard but mostly doable. Stage three had flow. It had flowers, sunshine, the birds were singing. I had a great time actually racing in a group for about an hour and a half, until we hit the aid station, when the women I was riding with blew by and I stopped for another potato.

I put it all the way in my mouth this time, and headed up the long, lonely climb that somehow felt longer than any I had done previously. It wasn’t steep, it wasn’t hard, it wasn’t technical, but it was the last climb of the race so in my brain it was never ending. Well, until it finally ended with a bit of swoopy single track.

Shane and Hannah racing through the woods

Just before the start of the last descent/enduro section, God appeared to me in the form of a man with a bourbon bottle (many such cases). I don’t normally advocate drinking alcohol while riding a bicycle, but I have to say there was nothing quite so exhilarating as descending a flow trail after nearly 14 hours of bike racing over three days as a (one single!) shot of bourbon hits you. Of course, this was amazing until the beautiful fast flow trail suddenly pointed uphill in the middle. There was the indignity of being forced off the bike one last time when a large root mysteriously appeared just after the apex of an uphill, blind 180. Maybe without the bourbon I could have ridden it. Oh well. Was the climbing over after that? Turns out, still no. Then, the last beautiful bits of descending in this majestic race were the trail spitting out into a busy parking lot, then a terrifying quarter mile down a steep gravel road that transitioned to a flat 180 turn on pavement. Yikes. Then the finish line came into view and I forgot everything. It was all worth it for the sense of accomplishment. I was done. There was cold coke. I laid on the grass and took in the beautiful weather, the beautiful bike race, the cold bite of the fizzy sugar water.

What a race.

Epilogue

Final Thoughts. The race was a mix of Type I and Type II fun — like any good adventure it had a mix of highs and lows that made you feel like you really tested your mettle. Pisgah Stage race has been going on since 2009 and it really shows in that it ran fairly smoothly without a hitch. The route was well marked, aid stations were well stocked, and the routes were interesting and gave you a good tour of the different terrain at Pisgah. While it’s definitely a race, the environment felt really welcoming with folks being really polite when they needed to pass, or cheering one another on as they cleared features.

At the awards ceremony, I baulked at the idea of signing up to do the race again but now with a little distance, the wheels are turning on how I could have saved some time here and there. All in all — would recommend to a friend if you are looking for a fun MTB challenge.

If you are curious to find out more, the race promoters website can be found here

Additionally, Kerry Werner put out a few race recap videos that do a good job of giving you an idea of what the race is like. The videos are linked below (check out Shane at 3:40 on the Land of Waterfalls Route).