Bike Minded People: Moniera Khan

“Why haven’t you ever raced the BC Bike Race?” a friend asked Moniera Khan last year.

It was a fair question. For the past decade, Moniera has been a vital part of the BC Bike Race team, starting as a race week volunteer and eventually becoming the Manager of Racer Relations.

Her response was immediate: "I can’t do it. It's way too hard for me."

But her friend pushed back: "How do you know if you've never tried?"

That question stuck with her.

When Moniera first started mountain biking in 2011, it wasn’t easy. Her first-ever ride tackled a blue trail through the rugged terrain of the North Shore. She struggled, tossed her bike in frustration—and maybe even shed a few tears.

"Mountain biking is f*cking hard," she says.

Back then, she’d heard about this crazy event where people from all over the world came to race 40 kilometres a day for seven gruelling days. Curious, she decided to volunteer just to see, as she puts it, "who these weirdos were."

Little did she know, one day, she’d be taking on multi-day races herself.

In the decade since Moniera’s first ride, she’s become a strong technical rider who has filled her life (and living room) with bikes.

In 2019, a friend’s social media post announcing plans to race Singletrack 6 caught Moniera’s attention. The idea of racing for the first time in her fifties was daunting. She had never competed in anything athletic, and the thought of finishing last was intimidating. But she refused to let fear hold her back. With that mindset, she signed up for her first stage races: Moab Rocks in Utah and Wine2Whales in South Africa. To prepare for the challenge, she decided to work with a coach.

Living in downtown Squamish, Moniera has access to an incredible variety of trails for training right at her doorstep. Whether she needs to be in Zone 3 and tackling a big climb up infamous Nine-mile Hill or hitting Zone 2 cruising through town and up Through the Looking Glass to Wonderland, the possibilities feel endless.

One of her favourite training loops starts in Valleycliffe. She winds her way toward Pseudo-Tsuga, over the Northside Connector towards the Alice Lake trails. It’s not a particularly technical ride, but it’s perfect for building endurance—and the mountain views never disappoint.

Another favourite? The Sea to Sky trail; a mix of flowy singletrack, chunky doubletrack, gravel roads, and pavement. Cheakamus Canyon along the route offers breathtaking views of rugged, dramatic landscapes. Towering cliffs rise steeply on either side, carved by the turquoise waters of the Cheakamus River that winds through the canyon below.

“That section over the Cheakamus Canyon, I just stare down and think, ‘I just rode my bike here from home—that’s pretty magical,’” she says.

Most of Moniera’s training rides are solo. Riding alone gives her the flexibility to adjust her plans on the fly—whether that means extending a ride when she feels good, heading out early to catch a dry window, or cutting things short if it gets too cold or wet.

"If you're riding with someone, you have to negotiate all that stuff. I like the freedom of just being able to go," she says.

When asked about riding alone and cougar encounters, she laughs, “I am the cougar. So, no I don’t need a plan.” Jokes aside, one of the perks of riding in Squamish is that even when it feels like she’s deep in the wilderness, she’s never too far from home. There’s almost always cell reception, and even on quieter trails, she’s confident someone will pass by within half an hour if she ever needs help.

"I love the riding community," she says. "People always check on each other in Squamish."

Much of the time, her training progress has felt slow or invisible. She did in fact finish her very first stage race in last place. But now, four years later, the results speak for themselves—hill climbs are less challenging, and she’s consistently shaving time off her rides. Now, she’s noticed that rather than just trying to survive on her bike, she is strategizing to minimize her losses.

"I'm starting to see those tiny little gains," she says. "And now, instead of just gritting my teeth and trusting the process, I'm excited about the possibilities of these gains compounding."

What no one told Moniera about training was how addictive it would become. Once she started, she never wanted to stop—because riding strong is just so much more fun. At 57 years old, she’s stronger than ever.

"I’ll catch myself at the gym getting all pissy about this roll around my middle. And then I think, ‘Wait a minute—I’m squatting heavy weights and crushing these ridiculous ab workouts. How dare I criticize my body? I celebrate and am so grateful for this body and what it can do.’”

Moniera’s gratitude for everything bikes have brought into her life runs deep. Even on the toughest rides, she’s just thankful to be outside. For her, it’s a privilege to be strong and healthy enough to experience it all.

"Being on the bike is therapeutic for me—it’s my happy place," she says. "Sometimes my heart feels so full of joy, it just bubbles over. I’ll yell good morning to the eagles and tell them how beautiful they are."

There have been moments during tough races when Moniera has found herself questioning what she’s doing there. But then she takes a step back and reminds herself: she chose to be there. Deep down, she wouldn’t have signed up if she didn’t believe she could do it.

Learning to ride in the Sea to Sky corridor has been a huge advantage, especially for building strong technical skills. That said, Moniera still expects to hop off and walk her bike at some points during a race and she’s not worried about that—ego isn’t part of the equation. Her focus is on self-preservation and making it to the finish line.

"I look around and think, ‘What am I even complaining about? Yeah, this is hard, but I’ll walk for five minutes, then get back on my bike. How lucky am I?’" she says.

While some might see finishing last as a disaster, Moniera sees it differently. For her, the experience is about so much more than where she places. Knowing she’s going to finish at the back of the pack, she focuses on having fun and soaking in every moment.

"I wish people would just get past it and experience racing," she says. "Racing has introduced me to this whole other world and all these incredible people I’d never have met from my couch. Working in racing and now racing myself has completely opened up my life."

With that mindset, Moniera has taken her friend up on their challenge to compete at the BC Bike Race.

"I’m 57, and I don’t want to be 77 wondering, What would’ve happened if I’d tried?" she says.

Racing as a mixed team of two with her friend means Moniera will have moral support and company at the back of the pack. They’ve already made a pact: Moniera can ride as slow as she wants—even cry if she needs to—but she has to keep moving and not give up.

"My race strategy is the same as always: have fun every day," she says. "I know there will be hard times, but I want to push through and come out the other side."

When asked how she expects to feel crossing the finish line on Day 7, she pauses. It’s almost too overwhelming to imagine.

"The first time I finished Moab Rocks, I was an absolute mess," she says. "I think I made some other people cry, and I make no apology for that. So I’d imagine Day 7 of the BC Bike Race is going to be pretty emotional."

For Moniera, racing isn’t about results—it’s about testing her limits, embracing the journey, and celebrating what her body can do. And whether she crosses the finish line with tears, laughter, or both, one thing is certain: she’ll know she gave it everything she had.

Photos by Robin O'Neill