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The first time I came across Jon Nutbrown was in 2004 at the Canmore Mountain Bike stage race hosted by the Rundle Mountain Cycling club. I enjoyed this race for a number of reasons: the weather was good, the concept was cool, and racing mountain bikes all weekend is just a great way to hang out. The race consisted of a hill climb time, a dirt criterium on Saturday afternoon, and a XC race on Sunday through the Nordic Center trail system.
Jon and I raced in different categories at the time (and still do). As it usually turns out, the Elite riders were on course longer than the other categories, so I was slumped over by the edge of the stadium seating watching the higher category riders finish their races right after I dragged myself across the finish for my race. It’s at this point that some of the top 10 riders in Elite come motoring by. A few minutes later, some of the “stragglers” of the Elite category pass, among them a little guy, who for no apparent reason, decides to have a little fun with the crowd as he’s passing the start finish area. The announcer lets us know that Jon Nutbrown is approaching, and with the spotlight on him, Jon decides it’s as good a time as any to give his front brake a squeeze to demonstrate his talent for endos. Like many a mountain biker, Jon’s a kid at heart, and knowing him now, I back calculate that he was probably 22 at the time. This is close enough to “real kid” territory that foresight was a little lower than it could have been on the priority list… Jon hadn’t realized there was a rider immediately behind him. The obvious outcome here is the rider behind didn’t have his brakes covered, and had no idea whatsoever that the racer in front of him would deem this a good spot for an endo. It was somewhat comical to watch: Jon’s riding along with a rider drafting him, Jon endo’s and experiences about 2 seconds of glory as he does a nice front wheel roll, and the audience is impressed. Then contact is made, forcing him over the top. A small 2 rider pileup ensues, with the behind rider being “less than happy” at the turn of events, and the audience’s glee is short lived. Both riders get moving again, and I believe Andy Holmwood has some sort of sanction/time penalty/stern words for Jon at some point later on.
But of course, that didn’t end the race. On the final lap, all the Elite riders are in, except Jon. Eventually we see him coming across the flat grassy stadium area, and with about 20m left to go to the finish line, Jon hops off his bike, mounts it backwards, and starts riding backwards to the finish. This is a slow, meandering, and fairly entertaining process. This is the first time I’d ever seen Jon ride, and it left me wondering who this oddball kid was. I didn’t see him after that for quite some time, but his antics, his multiple earrings and little goatee left me with the impression that he was off the wall, unpredictable, and not a very serious racer.
The following spring I saw Jon ride in the Bicisport criterium, which is really more of a circuit race than a true crit, at Race City Speedway. It’s the first Alberta road event of the year. It’s usually a windy day, and the course has two long straightaway sections. It doesn’t lend itself to breakaway efforts, the field usually rides together, finishing with a 2 minute bunch sprint at the end. After I finished my Cat 4 race, I sat in the stands to watch the Cat 3 race and chat with whomever was around. As the peloton came in front of the stands, Jon was riding nearest the spectators, and mimed a cigarette smoking gesture while doing an armchair type relaxed pose on the bike. The strategic “everyone sit in until the sprint” wasn’t taxing for him, and didn’t suit his mountain biking “go hard” race itinerary. I still thought of Jon as a bit of a wingnut at this point.
I don’t recall exactly how we ended up riding together a few times. Jon rides a lot, as do I, so I think it was a process of elimination that if we wanted to do some spring riding in marginal weather with a companion, we ended up finding each other. Given the opportunity to actually get to know someone by riding together for 3-4 hours, I quickly got past the “can’t judge a book by it’s cover” phase and began to learn what he really was beyond the guy that has fun on a bike. I liked him right away. We’re different by work, age, riding strengths and ultimate capability on a bike, but our motivations are fairly equivalent. We don’t ride so much because we’re dead set on trying to be fast riders, we ride a lot because we love riding. I’d probably ride just as much as I do now if my performance was capped at being a Sport class rider, and I suspect Jon wouldn’t be much different.
We rode together on one of the Cabin Jam rides this summer. It was a small group that day, I think only 4 of us. Jon’s strong in all ways on a bike, but a 2.5 hour hammer ride that primarily features flats and wind is much harder on a light guy than anything that features climbing. On the home stretch, he was punishing me on all of the uphill rollers. I have no option to punish anyone on the uphill, if I want to inflict any pain I just have to hold my power output from the climb steady right over the top of the hill and accelerate on the way down. The last portion of the ride coming into the west side of Calgary is flat to downhill, so I had the edge at the end. Jon ended up bonking. He wasn’t making to much sense when he talked, and he might as well have been riding a tricyle for a few kilometers he was going so slow. It’s always funny to watch how dramatic the change is in a person when their tank goes empty, I’m no different. I offered up one of my gel flasks. In times of need, people remember things acutely. I think that was the best marketing for Carb-boom that could have ever happened… strawberry-kiwi is now a staple of Jon’s racing. He chugged the entire flask without water, probably the equivalent of 5 gel packs. It was in his goatee, and about 10 minutes later he started making sense again.
A month or so later we pre-rode the Bow 80 course together. It was going fairly well until the huge climb about half way in. I started bonking and Jon took off. I suffered the rest of the day, but for some reason Jon picked up on one of my techniques – drinking Boost on long rides. I said the regular calorie drink helped me on endurance rides, but only when I could drink it and rest for a while. For whatever reason he picked up on this, and stashed a Boost at the top of Cox ridge for race day. Come race day the next weekend, I felt like I was having a solid ride, and was in 12th according to a course marshal as I was approaching the end of the Cox climb. Things didn’t go well from there on in, a comedy of errors ensued, leaving me with 5 flats on the day. Once I finally crossed the finish line, Jon was there and immediately congratulated me. Honestly, I thought he knew me well enough at that point that he could ask “what the hell happened out there” rather than congratulating me on finishing… I didn’t think there was any question I’d finish, but 50th something spot wasn’t really what I had in mind. He was interested in my day, but with what went on out there, I wasn’t enthused to recount it so soon. I finally got him to slow down enough to ask him how he did, and turns out it was 2nd overall, and first U25 finisher. He thanked me profusely, and I had ask him why on earth he was thanking me. Turns out it was the Boost thing, which I can’t really take any credit for, but he said he didn’t fade much in the last third of the race. Jon’s top race placing of the year in an open class race didn’t dissuade him from asking about someone else’s day. That’s Jon.
Turns out Bow 80 was just a warmup for La Ruta. Our experience at La Ruta is a story in itself, but the brief version is that Jon did very well on day one, coming in as top Canadian on the day in 17th overall. I knew he was a good rider, but I didn’t really have an intuitive sense as to where he’d shake out in a true open class field. I’m very impressed (and was proud to be associated with him down there if I can say that… it seems I had some talented travel companions this time around, but more on that another time) The rest of the race he mixed it up with the slower end of the privateer class bumming inner tubes for the most part unfortunately. We roomed together for the race, which allows you to learn a bit more about a person. It’s hard not to like the guy, I just think he’d be well served by a system to assist him remembering his personal belongings… we both made some mental errors down there, but he ended up losing the most gear. It was sort of like traveling with a [big] kid. I thought he put that behind him, until we were on one of our December play rides this weekend and his wallet decided to stay at Java Jungle in the deep southwest, about 100 blocks south of where we started.
I’m honestly interested in seeing where his riding goes from here. He puts his heart into riding, and has more running room left in terms of achievement, so I know the story will be fun to watch as it unfolds. His technical skills are very impressive, and it seems enduro mountain biking that features enough technical trails to weed out the less talented are his forte. I’ve never been accused of being a poor descender, and I can not keep up to Jon going downhill… even when I’m riding my Turner Flux and he’s riding his DH bike (Jon’s DH bike is an aluminum hardtail with a Rock Shox SID, which is coincidentally his hill climber, his freeride bike, his XC bike, etc.). I’ve tried to pawn a few of my bikes off on him, ostensibly to make him a little more comfortable on the road next year, and to give him a single speed to beat on all winter. My Dean ti road bike is probably a little lighter and a little more comfortable than his Kona, and for a guy who rides as much as he does, the durability of ti hopefully will work out well.
Jon and I raced in different categories at the time (and still do). As it usually turns out, the Elite riders were on course longer than the other categories, so I was slumped over by the edge of the stadium seating watching the higher category riders finish their races right after I dragged myself across the finish for my race. It’s at this point that some of the top 10 riders in Elite come motoring by. A few minutes later, some of the “stragglers” of the Elite category pass, among them a little guy, who for no apparent reason, decides to have a little fun with the crowd as he’s passing the start finish area. The announcer lets us know that Jon Nutbrown is approaching, and with the spotlight on him, Jon decides it’s as good a time as any to give his front brake a squeeze to demonstrate his talent for endos. Like many a mountain biker, Jon’s a kid at heart, and knowing him now, I back calculate that he was probably 22 at the time. This is close enough to “real kid” territory that foresight was a little lower than it could have been on the priority list… Jon hadn’t realized there was a rider immediately behind him. The obvious outcome here is the rider behind didn’t have his brakes covered, and had no idea whatsoever that the racer in front of him would deem this a good spot for an endo. It was somewhat comical to watch: Jon’s riding along with a rider drafting him, Jon endo’s and experiences about 2 seconds of glory as he does a nice front wheel roll, and the audience is impressed. Then contact is made, forcing him over the top. A small 2 rider pileup ensues, with the behind rider being “less than happy” at the turn of events, and the audience’s glee is short lived. Both riders get moving again, and I believe Andy Holmwood has some sort of sanction/time penalty/stern words for Jon at some point later on.
But of course, that didn’t end the race. On the final lap, all the Elite riders are in, except Jon. Eventually we see him coming across the flat grassy stadium area, and with about 20m left to go to the finish line, Jon hops off his bike, mounts it backwards, and starts riding backwards to the finish. This is a slow, meandering, and fairly entertaining process. This is the first time I’d ever seen Jon ride, and it left me wondering who this oddball kid was. I didn’t see him after that for quite some time, but his antics, his multiple earrings and little goatee left me with the impression that he was off the wall, unpredictable, and not a very serious racer.
The following spring I saw Jon ride in the Bicisport criterium, which is really more of a circuit race than a true crit, at Race City Speedway. It’s the first Alberta road event of the year. It’s usually a windy day, and the course has two long straightaway sections. It doesn’t lend itself to breakaway efforts, the field usually rides together, finishing with a 2 minute bunch sprint at the end. After I finished my Cat 4 race, I sat in the stands to watch the Cat 3 race and chat with whomever was around. As the peloton came in front of the stands, Jon was riding nearest the spectators, and mimed a cigarette smoking gesture while doing an armchair type relaxed pose on the bike. The strategic “everyone sit in until the sprint” wasn’t taxing for him, and didn’t suit his mountain biking “go hard” race itinerary. I still thought of Jon as a bit of a wingnut at this point.
I don’t recall exactly how we ended up riding together a few times. Jon rides a lot, as do I, so I think it was a process of elimination that if we wanted to do some spring riding in marginal weather with a companion, we ended up finding each other. Given the opportunity to actually get to know someone by riding together for 3-4 hours, I quickly got past the “can’t judge a book by it’s cover” phase and began to learn what he really was beyond the guy that has fun on a bike. I liked him right away. We’re different by work, age, riding strengths and ultimate capability on a bike, but our motivations are fairly equivalent. We don’t ride so much because we’re dead set on trying to be fast riders, we ride a lot because we love riding. I’d probably ride just as much as I do now if my performance was capped at being a Sport class rider, and I suspect Jon wouldn’t be much different.
We rode together on one of the Cabin Jam rides this summer. It was a small group that day, I think only 4 of us. Jon’s strong in all ways on a bike, but a 2.5 hour hammer ride that primarily features flats and wind is much harder on a light guy than anything that features climbing. On the home stretch, he was punishing me on all of the uphill rollers. I have no option to punish anyone on the uphill, if I want to inflict any pain I just have to hold my power output from the climb steady right over the top of the hill and accelerate on the way down. The last portion of the ride coming into the west side of Calgary is flat to downhill, so I had the edge at the end. Jon ended up bonking. He wasn’t making to much sense when he talked, and he might as well have been riding a tricyle for a few kilometers he was going so slow. It’s always funny to watch how dramatic the change is in a person when their tank goes empty, I’m no different. I offered up one of my gel flasks. In times of need, people remember things acutely. I think that was the best marketing for Carb-boom that could have ever happened… strawberry-kiwi is now a staple of Jon’s racing. He chugged the entire flask without water, probably the equivalent of 5 gel packs. It was in his goatee, and about 10 minutes later he started making sense again.
A month or so later we pre-rode the Bow 80 course together. It was going fairly well until the huge climb about half way in. I started bonking and Jon took off. I suffered the rest of the day, but for some reason Jon picked up on one of my techniques – drinking Boost on long rides. I said the regular calorie drink helped me on endurance rides, but only when I could drink it and rest for a while. For whatever reason he picked up on this, and stashed a Boost at the top of Cox ridge for race day. Come race day the next weekend, I felt like I was having a solid ride, and was in 12th according to a course marshal as I was approaching the end of the Cox climb. Things didn’t go well from there on in, a comedy of errors ensued, leaving me with 5 flats on the day. Once I finally crossed the finish line, Jon was there and immediately congratulated me. Honestly, I thought he knew me well enough at that point that he could ask “what the hell happened out there” rather than congratulating me on finishing… I didn’t think there was any question I’d finish, but 50th something spot wasn’t really what I had in mind. He was interested in my day, but with what went on out there, I wasn’t enthused to recount it so soon. I finally got him to slow down enough to ask him how he did, and turns out it was 2nd overall, and first U25 finisher. He thanked me profusely, and I had ask him why on earth he was thanking me. Turns out it was the Boost thing, which I can’t really take any credit for, but he said he didn’t fade much in the last third of the race. Jon’s top race placing of the year in an open class race didn’t dissuade him from asking about someone else’s day. That’s Jon.
Turns out Bow 80 was just a warmup for La Ruta. Our experience at La Ruta is a story in itself, but the brief version is that Jon did very well on day one, coming in as top Canadian on the day in 17th overall. I knew he was a good rider, but I didn’t really have an intuitive sense as to where he’d shake out in a true open class field. I’m very impressed (and was proud to be associated with him down there if I can say that… it seems I had some talented travel companions this time around, but more on that another time) The rest of the race he mixed it up with the slower end of the privateer class bumming inner tubes for the most part unfortunately. We roomed together for the race, which allows you to learn a bit more about a person. It’s hard not to like the guy, I just think he’d be well served by a system to assist him remembering his personal belongings… we both made some mental errors down there, but he ended up losing the most gear. It was sort of like traveling with a [big] kid. I thought he put that behind him, until we were on one of our December play rides this weekend and his wallet decided to stay at Java Jungle in the deep southwest, about 100 blocks south of where we started.
I’m honestly interested in seeing where his riding goes from here. He puts his heart into riding, and has more running room left in terms of achievement, so I know the story will be fun to watch as it unfolds. His technical skills are very impressive, and it seems enduro mountain biking that features enough technical trails to weed out the less talented are his forte. I’ve never been accused of being a poor descender, and I can not keep up to Jon going downhill… even when I’m riding my Turner Flux and he’s riding his DH bike (Jon’s DH bike is an aluminum hardtail with a Rock Shox SID, which is coincidentally his hill climber, his freeride bike, his XC bike, etc.). I’ve tried to pawn a few of my bikes off on him, ostensibly to make him a little more comfortable on the road next year, and to give him a single speed to beat on all winter. My Dean ti road bike is probably a little lighter and a little more comfortable than his Kona, and for a guy who rides as much as he does, the durability of ti hopefully will work out well.
Futures are always hard to tell, and all I know for now is that he’ll be heading down to La Ruta for the special edition suffer-fest in 2007… and I’ll hopefully be only a couple of hours behind on course!
Riding bikes with Jon improves on what's already my favourite activity, and that's riding bikes. I have more fun than I otherwise would, ride more than I otherwise would, and ride harder than I otherwise would. I'm looking forward to more time out on the road and trail with him.
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