I never really know where to start when trying to verbally process a sudden circumstance. When struck so abruptly with information that doesn’t make sense the more you attempt to understand it. Sometimes things come at you so fast they shake up your reality and force you immediately into the present moment. Makes you realise that time passes fast and is non discriminatory and judges non. That death is an inescapable paradigm of the fragility of life, and while you can find yourself at peace with that reality, you are always suprised when it’s acts so ruthlessly in front of your eyes. Darcy Burke was not a name I ever expected to see on a painful list of great souls who have left this realm too soon. Sitting here, thousands of miles away, absolutely naive to what he and his family had been dealing with over the past year. In a sorrowful regret that my last few chit chats were no more than a mere few facebook check in’s messages, post appreciations or shared chuckles. Darcy was one of the of the many faces that shaped my imagery of the essence of Whistler. Another wise and gentle dude. An absolute Goat. In the Greatest Of All Time legendary status and in the fact, that, the man really was a goat.
At the fittest Id ever been at 24, sweating through my shirt, dribbling out my mouth at the bottom of Catch Scratch Fever. Wondering how a man almost twice my my age held such an inspiringly unbeatable KOM, on such a relentless punch up and down. As I slowly got to know Darcy more and began to understand what made him, and the rest of you old fellas so god damn fit up the climbs. Was simply just a lifetime of enjoying what you do and doing it fucking well! Every time I crossed paths with that fella over the subsequent years (as just another chap off the boat) he always made me feel welcome. Only ever good vibes, smiles and always a wise welcomed voice. Someone I never imagined not to be cheer’s-ing another beer to, after another epic ride, on another fabulous day. Darcy was my first neighbour when I moved to Whistler! My first introduction to Chromag Bikes, and most Bike Shops around the village, and subsequently all of the wonderful people you all choose to surround yourselves with. I galloped off into the wilderness on some most amazing solo adventures on the advice of chap. He sent me off exploring for many un-mapped Trail Heads and Secret Snake’s. I’m pretty sure he knew where Zanskar was? Can’t confirm for sure. He never really divulged a clue.. but he hint that he knew something. Maybe I did ride it and he never told me, its alway such a mystery! This mountain wizard even introduced me to Ya Mama!!! And man was she a spicy ride… Darcy was a Danging Doubley Dope Dude. One thats departure, will always leave a hole in a community that loved him and in the minds of anyone who had the pleasure of getting to know him.
So Cheers Darcy, in a quintessentially English ‘Torah’ from across the pond. You won’t be forgotten. You didn’t quite get to make it 49 times round the sun bud. But I sure took you for a 49 lap, “Darcy Approved” 100km pain train, around a trail I built here in Donyland Forest. I am broken, and stoked that we Holla’d together one last time. But still never as broken as the Exile! I tried to Strava our ride and even maped out a RIP in a field. But my phone got so wet in this glorious British summer, that it died and lost all the data. So maybe it never existed afterall and now I only have these permanent tick marks in my top tube to remember it from... but I’m happy with that.
Pen's, trump screens, everytime.
49 Laps for Darcy. Let’s see all the bonkers rides in his honour from you freaky bunch. Sad I can’t be there to physically celebrate his life with you all. But just know he will be missed here, as much as he is there. See you in the infinite big dawg. Jahman.
