With a little help from Josh and Spike at Crisports, we were ready for a wicked day of full-suspension riding. We ducked into dark wooded sections, rode over classic root-sewn terrain, and emerged to grassy sections of meadow where we caught spectacular views of the surrounding mountains. After getting a feel for the place, we worked up to more challenging singletrack. The trail weaved in and out of the woods. The trail gave us a rest with a mellow section halfway down, but don't ever be fooled into taking a break.
Northeastern trails are the epitome of unpredictable riding.
I let up on my concentration, the roots persisted, and I launched what was, for me, the unforgettable endo of the season. I was instantly airborne. I looked down at my feet and noticed that they were still on the pedals, but the ground wasn't under them. Then I separated from my bike, sailed in slow motion for what seemed like an eternity, and finally hit the ground in the fetal position. I wasn't sure if a root grabbed my tire or if my left hand hit the front disk brakes at the wrong time.