Adrenaline Rush: New Record In Longest Downhill Mountain Bike Race In The Tetons

ALTA — Ethan "The Cheetah" Mentzer crouched at the starting line, his specialized Stumpjumper gleaming in the morning sun atop Grand Targhee Resort.

The bike mechanic from Driggs, Idaho, has been on a roll lately. Just two weeks earlier, he'd won a "mullet race" where he powered through the all uphill first stage before his relay partner handled the downhill section. 

Mentzer was the business up front, and his buddy was the party in the back, with an all-downhill run to the finish line. 

On Saturday, Mentzer — whose cheetah pattern jersey matches his fender and gold rimmed sunglasses — was preparing for a mostly party and some business race to the bottom of Teton Canyon. The starting line sat at 10,000 feet and the finish line was 3,900 feet below.

What’s in between is a steep, rocky slope that pushes the limits of adrenaline.

"Any time I'm on the bike, it's an adrenaline rush for me," Ethan told Cowboy State Daily. "And then the race environment just adds a little bit more pressure."

Offering the longest vertical drop of any mountain bike race in the Tetons, the second annual Colter Cup downhill includes one section midway through where riders must ride uphill. Then the course descends into Teton Canyon near the village of Alta, passing through U.S. Forest Service land where a local rancher still runs cows. 

Before the race, Mentzer felt buoyed by the confidence he’d gained with his recent mullet race win. Then he thought to himself about another competitor also on the rise in Teton riding circles.

"One of my coworkers wins everything," Mentzer said matter-of-factly before the race. "Caleb. He's, like, 18 and just ridiculously fast at everything."

Armor Up

That would be Caleb Bender, the quietly confident local who'd been eyeing this course all season.

At 18, the homeschooled Teton Valley High grad was the local favorite who threatened to beat the 30 minutes and 33 seconds posted by last year’s winner.

A rainstorm moved in the night before Saturday’s race, tamping down the loose gravel and letting riders really speed through the turns. 

In addition to Mentzer’s cheetah flair, the starting line at the top of Fred’s Mountain was crowded by a multigenerational cross-section of boisterous riders from Wyoming, Idaho and Montana. 

There were the pink and black stripes of a mountain bike crew called the Teton Pass Rats and there was a rider from Bozeman who upgraded from jean shorts last year to a fully armored suit this year. 

They were all gathered for a race named in honor of a mountain man who was among the first white settlers to draw attention to the wonders of Yellowstone country — or “Mellowstone,” as they call it at Grand Targhee Resort.

Colter is also perhaps the best-known nude streaker of Old West lore.

These riders, decked in varying amounts of riding armor, were there to unabashedly go as fast as possible.

Mustard And Mind Games

The go-to pre-race ritual for 16-year-old Tanner Fox is downing two tablespoons of French’s yellow mustard.

"It helps with cramps a lot," Fox explained. "Especially in a race like this, if you're cramping up."

A friend of Fox’s prefers pickle juice, which he said also wards off cramps on long courses like the one created for the Colter Cup. 

The man responsible for it all is Tony Ferlisi, Grand Targhee's race director and the creative force behind the event.

Standing before the assembled riders, Ferlisi painted the picture of what they'd just signed up for: A 30-minute-plus odyssey dropping nearly 4,000 vertical feet in the shadow of the Grand Teton, making it the longest downhill race in the Tetons.

"This is an amazing course," he told the group during his pre-race briefing. "Starts from the top of Fred's. It ends all the way down in Teton Canyon at the Mill Creek trailhead."

The payoff is a race that puts a two-wheeled modern spin on the spirit of race namesake John Colter.

"John Colter has a history, a big history here in Teton Valley," Ferlisi said. "The history books say that Colter did some trapping up in Teton Canyon back in 1808. So, we kind of linked that together."

Colter’s infamous run to safety happened in Montana when a group of Blackfeet warriors stripped Colter naked and gave him a headstart running before they planned to kill him.

Somehow, he survived. 

To stubbornly survive is the goal of racers now drawn to the Colter Cup.

They are drawn by the unique opportunity to ride through a stretch of forest not normally open to mountain bike competitions. The riders are also warned about the possibility of a cow collision. 

"There is a grazing permit," Ferlisi warned. "You could encounter cattle while you're on the trail. So, keep your heads up." 

The cows don’t follow the carefully maintained racecourse. They instead make their own paths straight down drainages, creating confusion for racers flying downhill at high speeds.

Like Colter's infamous sprint, this race tests who can move fastest down and across the mountain, enduring the rattle and hum of vibrating handlebars and squeaking brakes. 

"Our winner last year finished this race in 30 minutes and 33 seconds," Ferlisi announced to the racers. "So, it's a bit of time out there on the trail."

The Siblings

Brother and sister Bryce and Taylor Kovi represented the local everyday racers who don’t power-load mustard or wear full body armor. 

For Taylor, this was her first official downhill race, though she'd raced cross-country before. Bryce had convinced her to sign up just two days prior.

"I only live once," she said with a shrug.

"The upper section's pretty technical," Bryce noted, referring to a bumpy section called Sticks and Stones. “When it comes down to the lower section, that's where fitness is going to play a huge role with the two pretty sizable climbs."

As riders began their descent from 10,000 feet, the mountain reveals its character in waves.

First comes the technical rock gardens, where suspension systems and the riders’ hands and wrists struggle to absorb the vibration.

Then the course winds through the pedaling sections that separates the pure downhillers from the all-mountain riders.

Finally, there’s the homestretch downhill, where if the steep trail and high speeds aren’t enough, there are cows and the slippery organic land mines the cows leave behind on the trail.

To The Finish Line

Marcus Mattox, a racer from Bozeman, Montana, crossed the finish line in Teton Canyon with the wide-eyed look of someone who'd just survived a beating. 

“That upper section was hard on me,” said Mattox. “You kind of come around a corner and there’s those rocks that are kind of on an angle. I came around there too hot, slid out, dabbed a foot but didn’t go down, thank God.” 

Had Mattox fully tumbled, his shins-to-shoulders body armor would have helped protect him. The gear was an upgrade from the jeans shorts he used to race in. 

Mattox wasn’t the only shell-shocked racer at the finish line. 

“I’m pretty beat. It was harder than I thought it was going to be. It was a really long race,” said Mentzer, aka The Cheetah. “My hands were kind of numb, tingling.”

It’s a sensation riders refer to as “getting gripped,” which happens instinctually as riders hold on tight while their bodies and the bike’s shock absorbers try to smoothly endure it all while increasing speed. 

Some coaches tell riders to think of themselves as a hinge and allow their bodies to swing free with each high speed blow. But for it to all work, riders need to hold on tight. 

While The Cheetah caught his breath, his coworker Caleb Bender flew through the finish line on a bike with limited shock absorption.

Bender made a strategic choice, picking speed over full suspension. It paid off with a record-breaking time of 27 minutes and 39 seconds, besting last year’s time by around three minutes.

"This is a cross-country bike," he explained, patting his ride. "I think it's perfect."

While others struggled with the pedaling sections on their downhill bikes, Bender took advantage of his hometown knowledge and athletic ability to become his own human shock absorber through everything the course throws at riders. 

“It has a lot of variety. Has a lot of chunk at the top and then it’s pedally at the bottom sections. Just a lot of rocks, really bumpy,” said Bender, who’s headed to Bible college in Colorado in the fall and plans to compete in 10 races this year.  

“I was pretty nervous at the top,” he said. “I’m just glad I finished without crashing.”

David Madison can be reached at david@cowboystatedaily.com.