By the seat of my pants (or, with a little skill and a lot of luck!)

What the hell have I gotten myself into?? It's fine to talk the talk, but now it's time to do this and my guts twist with fear. A deep breath and I turn my attention to the beautiful view of the town below...far below. I try to listen to the wind through the evergreens thick in their splendor just in front of us. I see the trail markers and feel somewhat reassured - at least we're unlikely to get really lost. My eyes drift to the scat of unknown origin and I'm reminded that we're never alone in the wilderness despite the intense solitude felt on a quiet hike. This is not a quiet hike.

"Are we good?"

"Yep."

"Ummm...uh-huh."

Mike's off. I see his back, broad and confident, disappear around the first corner and I can hear his bike rattling and thumping away down the trail. A quick backwards glance at Greg with a stern reminder to give me LOTS of space, a big push of my steely cold pedal and I'm gone. No turning back.

I grab handful after handful of squealing brakes, feel my back tire sliding, hear my chain bouncing, sense my pedals hitting rocks and work to swallow the sense of doom working its way up my throat. I try desperately to remember all the little tips I've been gathering these past days - 60/40 front and back brakes, keep the front tire straight, look ahead, DON'T hit your brakes before an obstacle...

Mike's voice cuts through the clutter in my brain, "Hairpin turn!" and that's when I realize that I'm doing it. I'm letting go and allowing gravity to do its work. I call back to Greg to make sure he's good and finally I see Mike waiting up ahead.

I stop, legs absolutely quaking with adrenaline, but I'm all smiles and I can't wait to finish the other 2/3 of the ride. Greg catches up and we're off again.