It’s true that things have been mostly focused on work recently. I have a new job to learn, I’m working much longer hours, and I’m fully committed to doing whatever I need to do make this a success for the fantastic team I’m working with. But having less time to get out means that I have to be more strategic, more focused, more careful with the hours that I do have. Every minute has to count.
With that in mind, it’s been a fantastic start to a new summer of trail riding. I’ve been hunting down new singletrack in Stanley Park, hammering out technical downhill laps on Lower Seymour, hitting bridges and skinnies at SFU, and riding through cloud and light on a push up Fromme that felt strangely effortless on the 29er.
Last night I felt like doing something different, so I pedaled out to the Burnaby skills park after work and rode dirt jumps for three hours straight. I went from barely getting air on the greens at the start of the evening to comfortably clearing the blue line by the end. It was a ridiculous amount of fun; and to my surprise, it was easy. That I really didn’t expect. Learning technical skills is a constant challenge; being in the air feels like the most natural thing in the world.
But my mind keeps drifting back to rock and ice and skis. After all, dirt season never really stopped this year. On the winter mornings when avalanche ratings kept us away from the mountains, I was out skidding off icy roots on frozen trails. There’s still snow in the high passes, and a big storm just swept through and pushed the freezing level right back to 1700m. I’m not sure if winter’s really over; I think it’s just higher up.