Words: Alex Hunt, Photos: Justin Ross
The first few minutes of the climb were deceptive. Thanks to the shade streaking across the trail's dry dirt the afternoon sun was temporarily blocked, keeping me from breaking into an immediate sweat. Leaning hard into the worn soles of my shoes, I resisted the urge to downshift as the trail gradually tipped upward.
By this point in the summer, the popular up track I was ascending had probably been ridden thousands of times. It was my first time on it since last year, though. The moisture of last week's light rain had been sucked from the trail's surface, leaving behind a fine dust that demanded patience. I finally clicked into an easier gear. The chain complained with a metallic clunk, reminding me that the drivetrain appreciates lube more than mid-summer dust.
Finding a subtle rhythm, my attention focused on the ribbon of dirt in front of me. After picking a clean line through a short rock garden, I found the inside track around a loose corner and hammered the crank with confidence. I was ready to reach the ridgeline that hovered above.
With one last push over a rocky rise I came to rest in a flat meadow. A few different options were now at my disposal, including an unfamiliar trail that peeled over the opposing side of the ridge. Pausing to catch my breath, I grabbed a dust-flavored sip of warm water and shook the sweat-soaked jersey loose from my sticky shoulders. My eyes kept drifting toward the foreign singletrack that disappeared into a stand of pines on the far side of the clearing.
I went for it. Approaching the first few corners cautiously, I had no idea what waited around each bend. Feathering the brakes, my eyes searched farther down the trail and I started linking together the jigsaw pieces of this new route. As my confidence grew, I let the brake rotors breathe, then turned a midtrail rock into a natural launchpad. The following berm appeared just in time to catch my front tire and sling my trusty old steed into the next straightaway. The hesitation I felt at the top had given way to raw instinct.
With the bike dancing beneath me, I skipped across a section of loose rocks, sending a curtain of dust into the sunlight. By the time I rolled back into the lot, this new-to-me trail had me wanting to come back, wondering what features I missed the first time.
Before long, the dry trail will be covered with a blanket of fallen leaves, then eventually snow. For now, though, there are still unfamiliar trails to explore and plenty of daylight for another lap. Spending a few post-work hours in the dust, discovering someplace new is reason enough to keep the pedals turning during the height of summer.
