Navigating the sea of decisions, planning, and execution of ‘life’ can draw an uncanny parallel to our time in the saddle, whether it’s a slimy root-riddled trail, off-camber outside turn, or a set of immaculate berms, careening pitch perfect through a cedar forest. I’m sure I’m not alone with that thought and a few months ago, I haphazardly agreed to join a few friends up in the Kootenay Rockies of British Columbia, Canada, for a mountain biking escapade. Wedged between a very smoky summer in Montana, USA and a fast-approaching winter, the decision was thrown on the calendar like a spit wad. Sometimes, that’s the most effective way to commit, without overthinking, without hesitation. Somehow, in my belly, I knew this was the right thing to do.
The brainchild of the trip was my good friend, Marc O’Brien, also from Whitefish. My plan was to participate in the ‘pre funk’ portion of the adventure, all the way to Retallack Lodge, where I would sheepishly pull the eject cord and return home, while the others enjoyed their decadent ‘dirtopian’ finale.