With nothing more than a few frigid waves under our belts, we made the short trip back up the dirt road to camp, to thaw out and grab a bite. Our camp was settled at the uphill end of a forest road a few hundred vertical feet above the coast. Blockaded by a large felled fir, the opposing side of the road had had the chance to whittle down to a narrow ribbon of loamy, windy soil, meandering its way into the dense coastal forest. Eagerly, we readied our bikes and donned our gear, and departed for our second activity of our first day.
What had begun as an unassuming stretch of undulating singletrack, turned ever upwards, becoming steeper and steeper as it traversed the southerly wall of a steep canyon. After several miles of pedaling and hiking, with the sun becoming low in the sky, we decided to flip things around and head down. Peppered with polished roots, stomach-flipping drops, and the kinds of grippy corners that beg you to dip your bars deeper and deeper into each turn, we could not help but think that we had somehow stumbled upon a local favorite, and yet we still wondered; were all the trails out here this good? After some twenty minutes of stoke-fueled bliss, we rolled right back into camp, amazed at what we had just found, and beyond thirsty for a cold beer. With the sun setting over churning seas, we toasted some locally brewed IPAs to a killer kick-off to our trip.