Another Dirt Fest has come and gone, and, as usual, it was a big blur punctuated by highlights. It was my third year helping out with the event, and it seems as though every year I become farther removed from the participation aspect and more closely intertwined with the organization and making-stuff-happen aspect of things. …
This is why I ride.
Thunder rumbles in the distance, but the sun is still shining. Every now and then the wind gusts, the leaves rustle. Maybe the storm is finally headed this way. But then it is calm again, with only the buzzing of insects and the faint noise of a motorboat speeding down the lake to disturb the …
Wet, muddy, happy.
Trading a warm bed on a lazy Sunday morning for the promise of legs burning with exertion in wet 45-degree weather, I stand, slightly chilly, in the parking lot as the rain comes down and he gathers the last of the gear. Riding to the lake, in slightly-nervous anticipation, raindrops pattering on the windshield that …
