The off-camber, bloody, and muddy battle of Yongpyong – ahh, love it or hate it, that double-edged oriental flip of a long weekend’s racing in the mountains of South Korea was one for the ages. Plus, it was a hugely important forward step for the future, the soul, and the culture of the sport.

If by chance you’ve somehow missed the mayhem and highlights of last weekend’s racing, then do tune into the TNT Sports roundups on YouTube. I’d also suggest taking a look at Wyn TV’s après-race reaction videos on YouTube. These give some far more spontaneous, more informal, and unpolished finish line reactions from the riders. Kudos for that, Wyn Masters, as this is the kind of stuff that humanises what has become something of a high-flying, fast-paced, and elitist string of the sport.

There was a whole lot of rider bemusement, amusement, and side-strained twinges of rage and annoyance from some, the latter coming mostly from those who fell foul of the ‘unscheduled’ and unexpected nature of the races – both in the XCO and DH, and I fully understand those mixed reactions.

The muddy hell and off-camber destabilising disorder, which turned into pure viewer magic

You don’t have to get too far into the visual race coverage of any of the races to realise that this race was a bit different. Starting with the short track (XCC), all looked slick and well on the ground, nothing unusual, just a modestly seasoned flavour of the east – both on and more so off the race track. 

When the downhill came around, things were looking a whole lot spicier, to say the least. This course was different, not your regular semi-uniformly manicured, finely tuned, and well-rehearsed race track, with a certain amount of predictability to it. No, particularly the loose and off-camber – dare I say, retro style, old school top section was a corker to watch, and a nightmare for many to master without brutal failure.

While the very nature of this unusual oriental dragon, of a course, confounded and confused many a top rider, and likely their mechanics, it was a pure yet brief flashback to the original spirit and soul of downhill racing in some places, and that ain’t no bad thing.

Breaking that uniformity and familiarity may well ruffle and bloody a few star-studded elbows, and yet in so many ways, that was great to see. It humanised these riders somewhat, and immortalised others, those who somehow managed to transform into a forgotten and less predictable style of racing. Throw in the epic downhill adventures of ‘hardtail man’ who was caught on his run by eventual winner Asa Vermaet, and as much as that may have drawn out a fair few raised and disapproving noses, it didn’t impact the results. This also gave another shot of relatable humility to the sport, I think. 

As for the cross country, wow, that was truly a battle to remember – and there you go, this footage is the stuff that will be remembered and replayed for years to come – unlike your regular and largely predictable race footage we see these days. It had strong and again – humanising tones of the great and muddy 1991 ‘battle of Aviemore’ when the first official Grundig event came to the UK. There, riders met with even worse conditions, and the legend of John Tomac triumphed over such adversity, an absolutely unforgettable classic race – because of the conditions.

Yongpyong’s XC racing was purely impure and wholly unholy all in one – depending on who you are, or were, and how you view the sport. The totally uncontrollable and brakeless mud-clogged battle to survive the descents was the kind of havoc-wreaking stuff we rarely see in the pristinely manicured World Series these days. That fast-moving pace was slowed right down; the footwork and infernal bike running through ankle-deep mud was evil, and yet, in a sadistic kind of way, it was amazing to watch. 

Last weekend, both made and shattered pre-perceived and precisely targeted dreams. Out of the six elite races over the weekend, there were five first-time winners, and in the cross country in particular, a whole reshuffling of the expected norm was seen. Yes, some of this is a new season, new names thing, but by no means entirely. This gave that spirit and determination edge to some highly unanticipated riders.

Okay, I could ramble on forever on this one, so I’ll just round this up with a couple of my own personal impressions. It was great, epic, not the kind of stuff that truly fits into the modern World Series, but something that, on occasion, benefits it and its image hugely. It pushed riders to the limit, infuriated some, but made others smile and nod – many with appreciation.

It has to also be noted that very few of the racers out there have ever known anything different to modern day ‘manmade’ mountain bike racing, and were mostly not even born when that 1991 ‘battle of Aviemore’ took place. 

On top of that, the impact of finally taking the series to an unfamiliar continent is huge, in ways that resonate far beyond the results. This is the kind of stuff mountain biking in general really needs.