Running Ridgeline. |
I started into my dive and the familiar tug in the pit of my stomach made me briefly consider clenching the brakes. However, the sandy, wet concrete honeycomb holding the trail together wouldn’t tolerate even the slightest braking. It threatened a fishtailing disaster to those who dared to defy its pull. As my speed exploded and I neared the bottom, I felt the bike drifting to one side of the track. I was headed off of the safety of the honeycomb toward the sandy rock strewn edges and certain ski-season-ending catastrophe.