There are few sensations that beat blasting down singletrack in complete control (or perhaps on the ragged edge). The trees that take so long to pass on the way up blur into benign gates as I consume all that hard-earned elevation at a rapid clip. The annoying drivetrain creaking and clicking of the derailleur ceases as I crouch low over my ride, perched on the pedals with only the sound of air rushing by my helmet. All concerns of work and traffic are erased as my mind rushes to process that narrow window of information contained within the 20 feet in front of my tires as it charges at me. If only I could capture that visceral feeling and replay it at will….
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