There are things you never guess you’ll miss until they’re gone. For me, the high-five is the biggest one.

In my home of Revelstoke, British Columbia, the pandemic hit at a weird time. It was an epic winter and we were buried under crazy amounts of snow. Some years you can start riding here in mid to late March, some years it’s more like mid-April. This year it took until early May for the first slivers of trail to emerge from the crush of winter’s weight.

When they finally did, and the forest invited us in again, it was like the gates of heaven opened. What’s more, Canada’s curve didn’t just flatten, it dropped off dramatically. After months of staying in, jogging solo, and (ugh) road biking, we could finally mountain bike with our friends again (at the prescribed distance).

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