Normally when I take my summer vacation, I take more than a week. This year, I was out of town for just 6 days.

But what a glorious 6 days.

  • 50 miles of mountain biking in four locations, climbing somewhere around 10000 feet.
  • 900 miles of driving
  • 4 breweries, where I tasted (a small amount of) at least 20 beers and bought 5 growlers.
  • I found some very good pub food.
  • Three days spent in the woods with friends and family.

It was a wonderful reset. From sleeping on the side of the road next to a lovely little waterfall to blasting down the side of a volcano, it was fun filled and exuberant. And of course, those 5 growlers had plenty of company in the form of pints from the Russian River brewery and a few large bottles of my own cider. We didn’t quite drink it all, but we made a valiant effort that came close. Far closer than we should have, considering.

Sandwiching the drinking was a set of mountain bike trails that are worth the trip on their merits alone. Lewis River #31 is legendary, but fortunately the legend is a bit old now. BC has taken the thunder of the old singletrack trails, which is fine. It leaves the good stuff to us to ride unmolested. Two days later and it’s back in the saddle again, this time to ride up the flanks of Mt St Helens. The views are incredible, when you stop to look at them. Which you don’t, at least when going down. Fortunately, with video, I can go back and see the scenery I missed.

And finally, before I headed home, it was an old fashioned shuttle run in the capital forest. Shuttle runs are great fun—most of the climbing involves a Dodge truck, leaving us to only find our way down. My brother discovered these trails the year I went to college, it was a wonderful treat to learn of them the first year I came back. Mima-Porter was my first “real” MTB trail, she’s still holding up pretty well and provides some interesting challenges that I haven’t experienced elsewhere. There’s a special thrill in riding singletrack that’s no more than 3 tire widths wide.

Only then did I finally slow down. I spent a day with my dad, had a nice dinner with my parents, went to bed, and woke early the next morning to come home.

It was nice to be home too.

Still, the adventure wasn’t done. I might be home, but my friend Steve wasn’t. Far from it. Instead of heading south, he came to Pullman, where he joined me, Trevor, and Stefani for one last vacation ride. Moscow Mountain. Sure, the sprained ankle he acquired in camp hampered Steve’s ride, but Headwaters is still Headwaters. It’s special, something that is worth a 6 hour side-track to hit.

How did I spend my vacation? With my ass on a bike saddle, loving every single mile of it.