A bluebird November day. The city of Vancouver is socked in but the North Shore mountains are floating above the clouds. The forest calls. The Clairebarian’s answer is to put together her two biggest flexes for the first time. Her second ever grind up the No Quarter Climb followed by her third rip down 7th Secret. 

Uncle Crash Test isn’t exactly feeling ‘fresh’ after spending the previous day digging with TORCA, but he agrees to be dragged along without too much cajoling. And so, the group is set.

Crash Test Kevin manages to set the tone early when he dabs on a climb and the twenty-pound rock he chooses to trust to support him rolls away. He goes tumbling off the side of the trail. The knowing and salty smile Claire flashes me, after we know for sure he is okay, is the most sand thrown today. 

With it being a properly beautiful day for mountain bicycles there’s no real sense of hurry or hustle. The temperature is just right, as is the company, and there’s plenty of cheerful chatter. Even so, from Braemar to Mountain Highway takes an hour and thirty-seven minutes, which means Claire chopped eight minutes out of her first effort. 

I’ll reserve some of the credit for that to Peter Morin who has been throwing an epic amount of dirt on No Quarter. Thank you, Pete! That said, Claire pedals more sections than last time as well. 

CTK didn’t have the only crash of the day. Oh, mountain biking. Part way down 7th The Clairebarian fails to fully commit to a rock-armoured roll to which she had, unfortunately, already committed her bicycle. The little San Quentin 24″ decides to take her down with it. I mean, who hasn’t been there at least a few dozen times? 

Panicked tears and a locked-up arm stinger are the immediate result but they quickly subside and give way to a learned, earned, and resolute toughness. More rest stops are the order of the day and a few fewer features are challenged, but the limb and Claire’s confidence feel better and better the whole way down the mountain. 

Hugs and gummies don’t fix everything in life, but they can’t hurt.  

For whatever reason, Claire’s plan is to ride Expresso after 7th rather than Lower Oil Can. Which we’ve been riding more lately. It ends up being the better, smoother, choice today, after her bail. But there’s a certain chaotic energy bouncing back and forth between CTK and me over the decision. 

I never ride Expresso except with Claire. And I can’t recall ever riding it with CTK other than one notable exception. Maybe five years ago, CTK’s front wheel missed a little down ramp on 7th and he ate absolute shit. We used Expresso as the fastest, easiest, exit to the car. He rode the trail with one leg straight out and the other on his pedal, bleeding from his arm and face. A shared memory in both of our minds as we enjoy Claire’s choice of trails. 

We roll out the bottom of Expresso, into Lower Expresso, and then head over to hit Lower Digger for a smooth exit. Claire’s front wheel stays on the ground more and she pumps through the terrain less than normal on Lower Digger but she’s still smiling. 

All’s well that ends well and it’s all smiles when we get back to the car. It’s not Claire’s biggest riding day by time or distance, but the mental input both climbing and descending has delivered a broad grin and distant stare. She comes around in time to enjoy a hot chocolate, with whipped cream. As does Uncle Kevin.

 At night Claire and I talk about what our next ride will be. An afterschool special, so I’ll need to charge our lights. “Something short,” she says and I simper there in the dark coyly contented in my knowledge that, thanks to relativity, “something short” is getting progressively longer.

Thanks to Claire & Kevin’s big day out.