We've all heard it before: “all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” It's a concept that gets so easy to lose track of when you've spent a few months digging-in the winter's new line. The trail is like a child to you at this point; you've been there for its development every step of the way, from the initial raking that uncovers the luscious loam, to the final packing of the shimmering landing. It consumes you, and it feels like it may never get finished, giving you all the more incentive to spend another day digging. But there is a balance.
Too much digging and you start getting unrealistic in your designs. Underestimating speed, building lips with too tight of radii, and overlooking g-outs comes to mind. More importantly, you seem to lose your creative eye for digging and begin to feel intimidated once the line nears completion.
When we finished up our own line and got the bike out, I couldn't help but think, “we've created a monster.” This fear is coupled with excitement however, as the slow build-up over the months has led up to this moment. The satisfaction of riding the line, and in a sense, conquering it, is profound. The seemingly countless hours of work are suddenly paid off. The transition is made from feelings of restraint and desire to feelings of freedom and gratification. This is the reason people build trails. Throw those shovels in the corner of the garage, it's time to ride. It's like the last day of school. Summer is here and with it comes elation and adventure.
This video is our interpretation of this series of feelings, as we strived to build everything new for the film. The project naturally had its ups and downs, like the Great Poison Oak Massacre of 2013 and the 2013 Pioneer Logging Excursion through Poison Oak Canyon. As rough as it got, there came an equal or greater reward. We were shown that when a task becomes discouragingly difficult, you just need to remember the light at the end of the tunnel and the enjoyment that your work will bring others.
We want to give a huge thanks to Ryan Stayskal for letting us use his property; we couldn't have done it without him!