Words & Images Lester Perry

When I was a kid, I saw Disneyland, in California, as a mythical place that only a privileged few kids from my school ever visited. The tales they returned with further increased the mystique of the place. Interestingly, it wasn’t ever a place I thought I would visit myself and, to this day, I still haven’t.

As I grew up, the appeal of Disneyland waned, as you’d expect, and my “Disneylands” soon became famed spots around the globe where I’d dream of riding my bike. By the early 2000’s, Whistler Bike Park had secured its spot near the top of my list of places I dreamed of visiting.

For so many reasons, none very good really, it would take another 22 years before I was finally in a plane, jetting my way to explore British Columbia for the first time; two weeks in an almost-clapped-out van, just me and a mate. A whirlwind trip through western BC started with a quick bump into Bellingham, a trip back through too many riding spots, and finished with a scant 24 hours in Whistler. This gave me a taste of what the place was about, with a few laps on the chair and an early morning Dark Crystal lap. I knew I’d need to return in the future to delve deeper into its trail network.

By early 2024, the itch to travel to ride was back—and this time, I had a larger crew. Three middle-aged dudes—Kai, Byron, and myself— and 12-year-old Myles, Byron’s son. We knew we wanted to ride abroad; a trip that would be not- too-punishing (on bodies and budget). So, a direct flight from Auckland to Vancouver was chosen. From Vancouver to Whistler, there are a few transport options, but a shuttle did the trick for us, dropping us off at the door of our accommodation. If you were keen, you could leave Auckland, take a nap on the plane, wake up in Vancouver, shuttle to Whistler, and be on the chairlift for afternoon laps.

A ten-day lift pass, the cheapest apartment we could find just a five minute ride from the main lift, and a red hot credit card: game on. Our plan was simple; ride pedal-accessed trails in the morning, then lap the park and trails accessed by the lift in the afternoon and into the evening for ten consecutive days. No days off.

Whistler has around 14,000 permanent residents, with an additional 2,000 odd seasonal residents, however, it gets a whooping three million visitors a year, 55% of whom visit in summer. That’s a lot of mountain bikers, you may think, but only around 100,000 of them visit to ride, and I’d wager a pretty hefty bet that the majority of them never make it out of the bike park.

The bike park in Whistler is awesome, with trails of all types and for all styles. There’s no need for me to go on, as you’ll have seen many of them on the internet. What’s less well-publicised (but still popular with a large number of riders) is the pedal-accessed trails. We only managed to scratch the surface of what’s in the valley outside of the bike park, but the taste we got only re-confirmed Whistler as a 1-stop shop for everything mountain biking. Every morning, we pedalled to a new trail and not once struck a dud.

Jump onto Trailforks, and you’ll see a good web of trails down both sides of the valley. View a heat map of the area, and you’ll find a few more but, ride with a local and there’s a whole other underground network of must-do trails. The kicker is you’re pedalling to get to them, and they’re purposely made difficult to get to.

With some unseasonably wet and grim weather at play for much of our trip, the high alpine pedal-accessed trails we wanted to target were off-limits. Although the trails in the area handle the rain exceptionally well, low clouds and cold temps up high put us off some of the marathon climbs. The lower valley and bike park trails were key in these scenarios.

Although we missed a few missions due to weather, we managed just enough clear weather to make the most of a Top Of The World uplift. We rode the upper section before dropping into Million Dollar, Four Eyes, Kashmir and Kush, eventually dropping our pumped arms down into Creekside for refreshments. This is living, Barry.

If you’re into a bit of racing, Phat Wednesday is a must-do. A weekly social gravity race that is the price of a beer to enter, and you get a free beer at the finish—I guess that’s basically a net gain?

Kai and I hit the race in heinous conditions and still had a great time; the Whistler dirt, although muddy, wasn’t that slippery, and we had a blast regardless. The riding community there is next level.

Getting around Whistler is simple—just jump on the extensive bike paths and meander your way to your destination. It’s a simple way to get around and a great way to access the valley trails or tie in some touristing while you’re cruising around and hit the lake for some bombs off the jetty.

Having a bit of time, a trip to the Whistler Train Wreck was in order. One wet morning, we rolled out to it for a look. Riding from the village, we explored flatter trails off the sides of the bike path, riding some fun old-school hand-built trails that would easily be overlooked had we not gone full tourist mode. The Train Wreck spot has been featured in quite a few MTB movies over the years, so it was cool to see it in the flesh. Our ride home featured more exploring, and we stumbled upon a zone full of ‘skinnies’. Scary and exciting at the same time, I relived my youth for a bit, but after almost getting out of my depth a couple of times, I wised up and moved on.

Whistler trails can be humbling. The level of some trails is so high we really wondered if anyone would ride them—the consequences are so high. But, as much as there are some super gnarly trails and features, it’s not a rule; there are plenty of fun intermediate and advanced trails that were enough to test our limits without putting ourselves at too much risk. I guess a key thing when travelling abroad to ride is knowing your limits and being happy to swallow your pride, dismount and walk a section if there’s any doubt you’ll make it through. We saw plenty of people wandering the village with arms in slings or legs in casts. There’d be nothing worse than being on the opposite side of the globe, injured and unable to ride.

During a day in the bike park, you come across all facets of the MTB world. From first-timers protected beneath layers of rented body armour to new-school, roll-cuff-Dickies-pants and tee wearing, full-time park rats. It really is a melting pot for the world’s mountain bikers. While the ANZAC contingent is strong, there are accents from all over the world, and groups flock there to ride from all corners of the globe. It’s pretty cool to see one sport pulling so many people to one place.

Common bonds run deep in the riding community, and it was great to reconnect with people I’ve met through riding over the years who now call Whistler home (permanent or temporary); to be shown some of their adopted backyards and get a local lens on where to find not only the best riding, but the best coffee, or best value meals in town, or even a loan vehicle. If it weren’t for the connection the bike brings, chances are a trip to the area would be nowhere near as rich; it’s more than just a place to visit and ride to me.

I could wax on for pages about why Whistler is worth a visit, but I think you get the idea. With a direct flight (ex Auckland) to Vancouver cheaper than to anywhere else worth riding (aside from Tasmania), although it is overall not a cheap exercise, a 10-day trip offers insane value for money: the sheer number of riding experiences on offer once in Whistler is unparalleled. Assemble a crew, watch for cheap air tickets and go! YOLO.