Riding Della Creek with Matt, Dre, Kari and Connor was some of the only dry, desert style riding I'd done all year. It was beyond fun. We barely clung to the edge of the mountain, our traction tenuous in the loose soil. We crushed steep sections. We pulverised corners. Matt engaged his 'nasal diffusers'. Dre rode with his elbows out, his pedal strokes churning his tires into the ground. Due to various clunks, Kari decided that he needed a new bike soon, but regardless, rode like a champ as always. Connor blew by us at mach velocity and veered off the trail to absolutely detonate a pile of pine needles into high flying shrapnel. We hit jumps that sent us shooting down the mountainside, landing on the narrow trail in a rush of wind. In the distance, far below, we saw wild horses from afar. The sky was wide open, the river long and bendy. We were experiencing the last moments of riding our bikes on an expedition that had taken us through many diverse zones and down different trails. Our journey through these changing landscapes served as a metaphor to Andreas Hestler's voyage through the years as a 'Trail Blazer.' He has been an ambassador to an entire generation of mountain bikers, and continues to inspire. There doesn't seem to be any chance his fire will go out.