Die-hard mountain bikers don’t let a little rain dampen their fun. Downhill moutain bikers actually seem to relish the opportunity to compete in the rain. It makes the course faster, and after all, that’s what downhill racing is all about.

Such was the case at Sugerloaf USA this past weekend in the Widowmaker Challenge. Pros and amateurs plummeted down the slopes as rain turned the grassy sections to mud and the muddy sections to slick goo.

Seven of us made the trip to the “loaf” from Bangor. Even though our group included four teenagers, we tend to be a fairly conservative bunch when we ride. None of us had any racing experience. But we had no problem reveling in the gonzo attitude of the downhillers.

Men and women of all abilities tested the limits of their bikes and their skills. Long straightaways at high speeds gave way to braking and speeding tests as they entered a series of S-turns. Every inch of the course offered something a little different. Absolutely no time for them to lose their concentration. When they did – well, the term “wipe out” doesn’t seem to do it justice.

One hot dogger decided to dazzle the crowd with a little midair showmanship as he went off a natural jump in the course. His off-balance landing sent him sprawling face down in one direction while his bike slid in another.

A particularly steep section began with a zigzag. The mud made it tough. Some would zig when they were supposed to zag, but the relatively slow speed prevented them from getting into too much trouble. The second half of this section was straight – down. At the bottom of a wooden bridge, some large rocks and a slight turn to the right lay waiting.

Each of those elements posed a threat of their own. One poor soul hit one rock too many. His front tire blew with the sound of a gunshot. Unable to steer with a flat tire, he picked up his bike and heaved it to the side of the trail in disgust. Moments later a women rider lost control at the bottom of the hill and crossed the bridge the hard way. Her bike nearly ended up in the creek, She, however, remounted and went on to finish the race.

My hat goes off to one determined fellow who had the perfect reason not to finish the race. His rear tire was in the shape of a large, soft pretzel – the result of a nasty fall that I don’t even want to imagine. He grabbed the handlebars in his left hand and the bike seat in his right and ran the last third of the course with the back tire off the ground.

You don’t even have to pretend to be a racing fan to appreciate the love for the sport that someone like that possesses. As a matter of fact, there wasn’t a moment during the entire day that a novice racer such as myself felt out of place. Plenty of like-minded, casual cyclists could be found in the crowd to discuss the race, the kind of bike you ride, or why you’re not wearing a raincoat in such a downpour.

We spent our money on everything from bicycle jewelry to homemade burritos. Even while we ate lunch we were entertained by a an impromptu exhibition of youngsters hopping their mountian bikes up the stairways.

The sun finally made a guest appearance in the afternoon, just in time for the dual slalom. You’ve seen Olympic athletes ski downhill, side by side, weaving around poles. Remove the snow and substitute bicycles for skis.

I surveyed the course before the race. “Not steep enough,” I thought. “This is going to be redundant, slow and boring.” I was silently eating my words after just the first couple of runs. The racers were going all out. The amateurs were putting in times faster than some of the pros.

Maybe it was the lure of a soft, grassy landing that made them push the envelope. By the end of the qualifying round, many had made their acquaintance with the terra firma. But no matter how hard they fell or how badly they missed the gate, they hustled back into the saddle and ground it out to the finish line.

For every racer who took a fall, dozens made clean runs. Countless others averted disaster with breathtaking maneuvers. It was truly as much fun to watch as it was to participate. And the racers were definitely having fun. It was a dead giveaway. Why else would someone be grinning from ear to ear as they were being hurled from a bicycle at 20 mph?