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Nov. 17, 2022, 11:52 p.m. -  cheapondirt

That's masterfully descriptive and makes me want to try... riding in more new places, but also writing about it. Last weekend I rode a trail that hadn't been ridden for two weeks prior, since the first winter winds after a calm summer. Sections were buried under maple leaves: some crunchy, but many still yellow and soft thanks to a warm autumn. These were padded by pine needles and punctuated with the staccato snap of sticks. I imagined I could feel tire knobs individually tearing through leaves. The trail briefly joined an ATV track where damp fist-sized rocks jumped away from my pounding tires, then it cut back into the pines. Sudden quiet, needles isolating rubber from dirt. Roots added rythmic thumps. One last wood feature, its rounded slats rumbling, and I was ejected onto a gravel road and into mundane life. This was 30 minutes from home, but it was a different place. Thank you for inspiring me to savour its texture.

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