MEGA post alert – Its BIG, so cancel that meeting with cocks you don’t really want to hang out with while they talk in acronyms or corporate buzzwords, grab another frapafuckachino and get amongst the Shredpocalypse (Part Deux).

Fuck if today wasn’t a massive day. Lets face it, as we KNOW, day 3 is always the first day of the GOLDEN period. GOLDEN period? I hear you say… Yes, you know, that zone where you can’t go wrong… Where it all comes together in a beautiful symphony of awesomeness in any given situation. This can be applied to sport, but also to nailing it with the opposite sex… Those that know what I am talking about are nodding their heads as a smile starts to curve at the side of their mouth as they recall the workings of a GOLDEN period.

But, lets not digress into fuckery, instead, lets stay focused on, er, riding. Day 3 dawned with improved weather, feeling still in our hands and the Dok pumped after tapping out like a drilled cunt on the couch. We got day 3 off to a good start, finally finding DAS WOLF, who, as we should have expected was getting a spot of shopping in for kit at one of the plentifully stocked shops in town:


“I’m sick of all this Fox gear, where is the WOLF gear?”

Fuck yes, day 3 and we were foaming at the mouth. Well, almost all of us. Dok was showing jet lag form by inadvertently falling asleep standing up in the kitchen, in a massive inconvenient position as well. He’s too fucking massive to move, so we just had to prep brekkie around his monolithic chassis like a bunch of monkeys in a space odyssey. Good usage of the POC muscle T though:


“Fucken sleeping standing up and shit”

Eventually we got our shit together – Having said that, this is the BEST thing about these DH trips, you don’t have a skinny person shaking you awake at 7am with an orgasmic look in their eye, barred up at the prospect of fingering you on a 20km climb and wanting to get on the road ASAP… No sir, around these parts we sift around like a first year uni student without the STD’s, cringing in the cafe and wearing hoodies etc. Still, once we did get going, Dok wasn’t going to miss the chance to pop into Science mode and give us the FULL Geo break down on how rocks in the area work and shit:


“Since the rocks of the Gambier Group were deposited they have been deformed, crumpled and uplifted by the slow but relentless pressure of convergence between the continent and the crustal plates of the Pacific Basin…”

I failed science at school, so the only thing I needed to know was how the fuck to shred the rocks… And there is only one thing you need to know there:

Specialized Demo 8 Carbon

Yes, this bike is already in the hall of Dirty fame and continues to absolute melt my brain out my ears with its awesomeness. Never have I had a bike that rails turns, smashes gnar, smokes drop ins or fingers jumps quite like this machine. I was going to say this was a case study here, but I sort of fucked up this jump and squashed it instead of ripping it, but you get my point:


Science smurf lurks in the background while I fuck up the only photo op of the day…

I was the only one getting into the DEMOlition action, Nein, Herr Doktor was also getting low and rad on it through the usual morning warm up phase down Crank it up… Given the morning form, we needed MORE and MORE:


The apex forces being applied to 7 feet of shred beast held down by size 41 boots – Go get fucked physics

So, with the boys foaming at the mouth and the weather morphing into what more usually resembles summer here, I decided to massively break with protocol and change up the timetable, sending us up the mountain to the zone we only speak of in hushed tones:


Yes, it was time to get into the vaunted upper zone, where the wild gnar lives, where the elevation just starts to ramp up in its steepness and where braking bumps masquerade as moguls. Yes, blood them early and blood them hard like a pack of pert puppies. The Dok noted that we had a spare space on the Garbo lift that was surprisingly wild canine shaped:


“A tribute to our fallen brothers”

It was nipple hardening cold at the top of the mountain, so to avoid such a dilemma we kept the modelling shoot short and got on our way into the Blue Velvet goodness off the summit, the boys pumped for their first taste of Garbo action:


“Up a fucken mountain and shit”

Who doesn’t love being up Garbo? Its quieter than the lower zone and you get a massive feeling of well, massiveness. Yes, its BIG mountain action and you can’t help but feeling the radness of it all when you stop to admire the vista and let the hands catch up. Exhbit A:


Breathe it in… We’re back baby

Dok was so excited, he promptly fell asleep and missed all the scenery, not to mention the chance to science lesson the fuck out of us about the copious amount of rock around. Nails ain’t got no time for science, so was pleased to rock on, so to speak:


Either A) refusing to look or B) meditating on the rock elements and Vulcan mind melding… We’ll never know

To be fair, Blue Velvet was more cut to shreds than I thought it would be… Braking bumps pretty bad, some good changes, but on balance we decided it was best left for a day or two. What was going off massively was lower Blue Velvet, with Nails loving it due to its Moto X like set up and beautiful flow action from berm to jump to berm etc etc… Dropping in:


RoK… Dok… POC…

As you can see, the Dok debuted the chesty mount today… There are untold jokes linked to that piece of equipment, but I like to think we rise above such innuendo, so lets just focus on dropping in on some more sweet BV. Signs are useful, this one pretty self explanatory:


The DEMOlition team getting down to work

Late starts mean an early lunch. Ramming pasta, multiple cokes and fries was perhaps not the best call ever and all of a sudden my fantastic form evaporated and I started struggling like a Politician on a skiing holiday. I was all over the show and looking like a muppet strapped to a hard tail. Must have been time for some faffing, I was more than pleased when Dok wanted to fuck about with his back wheel:


Busted in the act of pumping white fluid into his demo… So public… Lashing out…

Given Dok’s penchant for Technical and tight trails (the opposite of what Nails was frothing for), we decided to hit some new rad shit, heading over to tick off ‘Angry Pirate’. It was an instant winner all round, both upper and lower. For a black trail it wasn’t too bad to be honest, indeed Dok got so excited that he cracked a massive gnar stiffy, which he unfortunately captured on the Dirty old Go PRO chesty action:


“Fucken love this trail, best one so far and shit x 10”

We double tapped that business, it was awesome… The only thing messing with our mojo today was the queues. Yes, WTF… Its Monday right? This was the queue when it wasn’t too bad, that’s to say it doubled in size after this run. It made a mockery of my assertion to the boys from the day before:


“Don’t worry boys, Monday will be fucking quiet as, way better than Sunday”

In another break with protocol, we also started to pick away at sections of ‘A-Line‘, world famous and requiring decent form, the parts we did sniper were excellent and its on the menu tomorrow to pick the whole thing off end to end. It was during this period that we took the opportunity to do a little bit of shredding voyeurism, heading to ‘Crab Apple Hits‘, a PRO line might I add, to see how its done on the biggest jumps in the park. How big? Well, Nails and Dok are perhaps the biggest people I have ever met, so I sent them down to act as scale markers on one of the smaller jumps in the hit line:


“Faaark, its fucken massive” – Understatement

It wants to break your bones just looking at it. As I mentioned last year, Whistler has its own food chain… The king of this food chain of course is the mega shredders, few in number overall, but fucking massive on balls… Also possible too young to care about bone surgery. Let me explain with this sequence:


Take off…

Yes, these are some young kiwi shredders believe it or not, from Rots of course, over for the World Cups and Crankworx and no, not to spectate… As I was saying:


“Hey old dudes, want a turn?”

Yeah… FUUUUCK is all we could really stand around and say before scampering away into the trees before anyone could see us. It was so scary that the Baboon’s rear D exploded in protest, bringing his shredding day to a close for repairs. As we say, this place is super hard on bikes and bodies:


The red ring of fire!

Whilst Nails was hunting around town like a hobo for a jockey wheel, Dok and I were not about to let good elevation go to waste and decided to hit another new Black trail, a personal favourite of mine from last year, ‘Afternoon Delight’, apt name, basically the same physical feelings when you nail it hard… Which on the Demo was significantly easier than I remembered from 12 months ago:


“Have some of this”

And with that final RIPPING run of goodness and gnar, it was time to nod, fist bang that shit and declare the day done with 9 solid laps in the bank. The epic queue being the only thing that messed with our mojo and the number of runs we could get in. The bodies feeling surprisingly good still at the end of day 3. Time to celebrate good times:


Dok never missing the chance to sneak some cheeky fucking POC advertising in… Gonna start charging…

Yes, thank you Whistler for another awesome day, I have to say it again, what a ripping place and at last some blue sky… Get some:


Bring it on Day 4…

1 or 5 beers later, to sum up the day and discuss plans for tomorrow (not to mention some post ride recovery action, DH style), the boys also took the time to give their views on taking a tour of the Tower of London:


“Ehhhhhhh… Get your ass to Whistler”

And now, to the daily essentials:

1. Trail of the day – ”Angry Pilot into lower A-Line’: The top tech action keeps the Dok fevering and the A-Line moto action gives Nails wood, so the whole family is happy. I never play favourites, so just go along with it and love them both equally (the trails that is). It was an awesome combo and will no doubt be on the menu permanently now.

2. Gear of the day – DEMO (default award). Rear shock tweaking – Yes, not really an award and the Ohlins magic is always going to win here, but all 3 of us made calculated adjustments and changes and it all had a marked effect on performance. Speed was up, style was significantly better and as Nails pointed out “I didn’t feel like I was gonna fucken die all the time“. Win.

3. “What did the Dok say” (sing it) – “I’m brushing my teeth cunt, so fuck off. But, having said that, I think all rides should finish in the hot tub, its a perty rad way to end the day”

4. The Wolf void – To make sure no one misses out, in this daily essential we hypothesis what it would have looked like today if Das Wolf had joined his gravity brothers, down Crabapple hits:


“Fucken massive hits eh wolf? Wolf… Wolf”

Right, thats a wrap on a day 3 post that was way too fucking big, apologies folks and I promise that it has nothing to do with the catering arrangements here at Shred HQ, or it being 1.20am. My inner Roadie is dying a painful death:


Fuck Power to Weight ratio – How about Pizza to Shred ratio?

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