This past Sunday I took a trip to my old trails in South Carolina on my way out of town. It was sad to see the shape things were in, but after a little bit of quality time with a shovel it proved that not all hope was lost. Rambo got to spend some time at his old stomping grounds as well.
Mother nature had reclaimed nearly 6" if not more of clay off of every jump and berm. Washed away into the pits where the clay had came from to build them.
I thought about how much time I'd spent down there with a shovel in my hands. Working to get things just the way I wanted. Building your own trails doesn't seem to be very popular these days at all and that's a shame. I hated seeing that nobody had taken over the reigns in my absense and kept things up.
At the end of my visit I realized that everything comes full circle, and one spot being laid to rest leads to the birth of another one. I guess you could call it evolution in a way. I just will call it another day in the woods without a care.
Mother nature had reclaimed nearly 6" if not more of clay off of every jump and berm. Washed away into the pits where the clay had came from to build them.
I thought about how much time I'd spent down there with a shovel in my hands. Working to get things just the way I wanted. Building your own trails doesn't seem to be very popular these days at all and that's a shame. I hated seeing that nobody had taken over the reigns in my absense and kept things up.
At the end of my visit I realized that everything comes full circle, and one spot being laid to rest leads to the birth of another one. I guess you could call it evolution in a way. I just will call it another day in the woods without a care.
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