It happens.
The only way to enjoy being an unstoppable force is to have obstacles in your path. You need to have things that try to stop you, that get in your way, so you get a sense of how fast you’re going as you smash through them. Sometimes this works out, sometimes it doesn’t.
But such is life.
Since time immemorial, turning on the lights in a pub has signaled the beginning of the end of your night. The room lit up, your thoughts turn to securing that last drink, finding that greasy snack, or making that last-minute connection. For the past couple of years, the arrival of Frozen Thunder at the Canmore Nordic Centre has signaled the imminent end of the bike season. Snow has been creeping ever-lower down the mountains, frost is now ever-present during morning rides. Thoughts now turn to the off-season. Cross-training, hitting the gym, running (blech!), maybe the occasional swim. The off-season is coming. Frozen Thunder is telling you ” You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.” 
It’s early and I’m already up. My body is still on Mountain time and I’m awake as very early melts into early. I have to be on the road in a couple of short hours, an eight hour drive across a still sleeping, unconscious, Washington State.
I didn’t really know what to expect. I had ridden the Dewdney Trail fifteen years ago (almost). Since that time, my memory of it has become hazy. A blur, now more feelings and impressions than concrete detail. However, I do remember that, at the time, I really liked it. With the access road literally across the street from my motel, the eminently charming-in-it’s-own-way Rossland Motel, I set out to re-acquaint myself with a trail that I had ridden only once, many years ago.
The Montane Traverse is never as easy as I want it to be. Or rather, it’s an easy trail, except when it’s not. The easy parts are pretty easy and the hard parts can actually be kinda hard. The problem is that there’s nothing in between. That and, also, I usually forget about the hard parts until I’m just about to ride them.
Of the two trails that best represent the soul of mountain biking in Canmore, EKG is undoubtedly the most popular. This doesn’t mean that it’s the best trail in the area, although it is pretty decent, but rather that it’s very accessible. And I mean that in every sense of the word. EKG is both easy to get to, and easy to ride. All of this is good, as the trail can be very fun.
If you are caught unprepared by a sudden rainstorm, you should not run foolishly down the road or hide under the eves of houses. You are going to get soaked either way. Accept that from the beginning and go on your way. This way you will not be distressed by a little rain. Apply this lesson to everything.
– Yamamoto Tsunetomo, The Hagakure
There is a way to connect the singletrack in Edworthy Park to the singletrack in Bowmont Park, turning two relatively short rides into one with a sufficiently acceptable length. Sufficiently acceptable also happens to be one of the highest compliments that one can give most singletrack in Calgary. However, in the pursuit of sufficiently acceptable, there is also grave danger. A prime example of urban mountain biking, any rider attempting the connection between these two trails risks traumatic personal injury.
Momentum. The suspension compresses, coiled in readiness. The apex of the corner approaches. A pump of the handlebars pushes the tires deeper into the dirt. Then release. Like a kid pumping a swing to get higher, go further. Faster.
The singletrack from Edworthy Park is abrupt. It’s also a secret. Or rather, it feels like those two things. 
therideunknown 