Bike-Minded People: Christine Lynch

Redefining Women’s Grassroots Racing

Words by Danielle Baker

On race day, spotting Christine Lynch—co-owner of Family of Riders Bike Co (FOR Bikes) and the force behind The Murderhorn Maiden—is no easy feat. Gravel crunches under her tires as she cuts across access roads, darting between race checkpoints with her camera slung over her shoulder. With each click, she captures moments of grit and triumph—loam-splattered riders launching over jumps, wide grins breaking through exhaustion at the finish lines.

It’s a scene she knows well—not just from behind the lens, but from years spent racing and organizing events. Christine had spent nearly a decade bringing mountain bike races to life when Dana Wacker, former president of the Nanaimo Mountain Bike Club (NMBC), approached her with an idea: a women's race that would cater to both beginners and competitive riders. Together, they dreamed up an event that offered, not just fierce competition, but also a clear path forward for newer riders to progress in the sport. It was the kind of race that didn't exist when Christine was started but that she wished she'd had.

Christine entered her first XC race at 15—and finished dead last. Crossing the line, Christine could barely catch her breath, let alone comprehend how all the other racers had absolutely destroyed her on course. But instead of walking away, she leaned in, determined to get better.

"I'm naturally super competitive, so when my mom told me, 'It's okay, you tried, and you don't have to do another race,' I said, 'No, I do because I suck at this,' Christine says.

Growing up on the Sunshine Coast, she joined Sprockids and rode for the local On the Edge bike shop, eventually earning a spot with Team BC, competing in the XC BC Cup series.

After high school, Christine moved to North Vancouver and started working at Obsession: Bikes, a local shop. By then, she had been riding the same XC bike for years, and when her coworkers saw it, they were in disbelief—it was heavier than a downhill bike. Christine shrugged and joked, "Well, at least I'm strong." It was on the steep, technical North Shore terrain, with its tangled roots and slick rock slabs, that she discovered downhill racing. With her love of a challenge, she knew she'd found her true place in the sport. Through the shop, she secured sponsorships with Specialized's grassroots program—and finally got a lighter bike—and later Opus. But, while the mountain biking community offered personal support, the industry itself wasn't as inclusive.

"If my male counterparts had the same consistent provincial and national rankings as I did, they would have had a full sponsorship, and I had a part-time job," says Christine.

Eventually, she stepped away from racing to focus on her teaching career. After moving to Vancouver Island with her husband, Grant, she found a new way to stay connected to the sport—volunteering with NMBC and organizing races in her spare time.

That passion for race organizing took on a whole new level of commitment when she and Dana launched the Murderhorn Maiden. Its first year was a whirlwind—Christine managed her responsibilities for the event while caring for a newborn. At the time, sleepless nights and sheer exhaustion kept her from thinking about the bigger picture. But looking back, starting the race as a new mom made its purpose even more meaningful.

"We wanted to create a race that wasn't just for someone who's starting to ride, but also for the hypercompetitive girls," she says.

The race is thoughtfully structured to create an inclusive and rewarding experience for all levels of riders. To ensure consistency and accessibility, they've aligned their ride and race category structure—Cruisers, Givers, Senders, Experts, Rippers, and Powerhouses—with other women's mountain bike events' naming conventions, avoiding confusion and helping participants self-seed more accurately.

The course design is another critical element. Christine carefully calculates lap times to prevent expert riders from catching beginners mid-race—avoiding the stress and pressure that can come with that. She also intentionally plans routes suited to each category rather than applying a one-size-fits-all approach. Beginner riders don't race highly technical sections, while advanced riders still get the challenge they need.

"I pick the trails for the level of riders intentionally so that racers feel good at the end of their race," she says. "There are limitations when it comes to the available trails, timing, and such, but we get creative and make it work."

Mount Benson includes Simpsons-themed trail names like Sexy Flanders, Uterbraten, Max Power, and Hutz—which inspired the Murderhorn Maiden name, a nod to The Simpsons episode featuring a treacherous climb up Springfield's tallest mountain. Once seen as the domain of expert riders with its big jumps, jagged rock gardens, and steep drops, it has proven more approachable than it seems. Some trails accommodate both experienced and novice riders, featuring ride-arounds and rollable doubles. This shift in perception has fueled the event's growth—from just under 100 riders in 2022 to 175 in 2024—with participants from the first year sharing their experiences and encouraging friends to join, helping to demystify the mountain and make it accessible to more riders.

After the inaugural year, Dana moved away, but Christine was far from alone. NMBC’s Sarah Davidson, along with a dedicated crew of other bike club volunteers, have continued to ensure the race thrives year after year.

That collective effort has shaped the event into something bigger than just a competition. For Christine, the most rewarding part isn’t just seeing riders push their limits—it’s the energy and community the race fosters. Brightly coloured tents line the base of the course, standing out against the deep green of the trees, while cheers erupt from the crowd, momentarily drowning out the music as racers cross the finish line. Riders gather with refreshments in hand, their voices weaving together in laughter and excited storytelling, reliving moments of grit and triumph. More than just a race, the Murderhorn Maiden has become a celebration of women in mountain biking—a festival-like gathering where camaraderie runs as deep as the love for the sport.

While grassroots in nature, events like this have the power to shape the future of women's mountain biking, providing young riders with visibility, validation, and opportunity in an industry where women still make up a small fraction of competitors.

"If I’d grown up with events like these, my riding would have progressed more, I’d have had more opportunities, and I would’ve had the confidence to ask for them," she says.

As a mother, Christine's mission extends beyond the trails. Whether her daughter chooses mountain biking or another sport, she wants her to grow up feeling welcomed, supported, and valued. Women's sports have made strides, but challenges like lower participation, pay gaps, and limited sponsorships still exist. The Murderhorn Maiden is one more step toward change, proving that in mountain biking—just like anywhere else—belonging isn't a privilege. It's a right.