Rising up in western North Carolina, within the Qualla Boundary—sometimes called the Cherokee Indian Reservation— was very like rising up in any small, rural mountain city. We discovered to like one thing about each season. We harvested ramps in spring, caught lightning bugs in summer season, ate chestnut bread on the Annual Cherokee Indian Truthful every fall, and begged our dad and mom to take us sledding off the Blue Ridge Parkway in winter. A lot of my summer season breaks from faculty have been spent digging for crawdads underneath creek rocks and tubing lazily down the Oconaluftee River. 

This space—about an hour west of Asheville, within the Great Smoky Mountains—can be a haven for mountain biking. Though I’ve lived right here all my life, I by no means thought of strapping on a visored helmet till eight years in the past, once I was effectively into my thirties. I had two children, and was 60 kilos chubby, depressing at my job, and struggling to publish my first novel. I had additionally been recognized with anemia. At the urging of mates, I turned motivated to strive a brand new sport (I’d been a longtime basketball participant, however my knees couldn’t take it anymore). So, across the identical time I began getting common iron infusions, I took up mountain biking. 

At one level, I advised a nurse to not fear if my pulse was elevated—I had simply gotten off my bike. “Mountain biking? That appears so scary,” she mentioned. I scanned the ready room; many of the sufferers have been hooked as much as IV strains and oxygen tubes. Virtually each different particular person was combating most cancers, simply as my mom had years in the past—earlier than it took her. I couldn’t assist pondering: No. That is what’s scary.

Many individuals consider mountain biking as an excessive—and male-dominated—sport, and it actually might be. However I got here to like it for what it gave me: freedom. I obtained right into a routine, belting out glam-metal songs like Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me.” On the market on my bike, alone, there was nobody to care if I sang off-key or let loose an occasional whoop of pure elation.

On the path, I used to be now not outlined by my relationship to others, as mom, instructor, daughter, or spouse. I used to be outlined as a substitute by how sweaty I obtained climbing uphill, and how briskly the wind blew throughout my physique on the way in which down. My favourite place to experience was, and stays, Fire Mountain Trails, an 11-mile community within the city of Cherokee. The packed-clay paths wind by means of a forest of tangled mountain laurel and rhododendrons that come alive with pastel colours within the spring. Geared up with handlebar lights and a headlamp, I got here to like night time rides, which frequently featured sightings of owls swooping for prey.

I used to be lucky to have many native bike and equipment retailers, like Business 9, Cane Creek, and Movement Makers, to assist with repairs. Many retailers, together with BCOutdoors, in Cherokee, additionally provide leases, so guests are in a position to hit the paths as effectively. When it’s time to hop off, I like to move to Innovation Brewing, in Sylva, for a beer and food-truck burger, or BCOutdoors, which additionally has a taproom. 

Two ladies, colleagues from faculty, taught me to experience. Every week, we might meet on the paths, far-off from the stresses of labor. Ultimately, I made extra mates and discovered the worth of a driving group. The realities of recent life and conflicting schedules usually imply grabbing a solo experience at any time when I can. A ravishing factor about these trails is that they’re secure sufficient to experience alone, and social sufficient that you’ll usually run into mates alongside the approach.

Whereas I cherish my adventures with fellow cyclists or on my own, the sort of experience I treasure most is with my two sons: 12-year-old Charlie and 16-year-old Ross. I watch nervously at any time when they navigate a rocky edge. However once they scream with delight as they catch just a little air, I’m reminded of the liberty I first felt on a mountain bike. To listen to my son shout, “This is superior, Mother!” could be the biggest reward these trails have to supply.

Mountain biking isn’t scary, like I used to suppose. However it’s excessive. Excessive pleasure. Excessive dwelling. It’s excessive sufficient that I can hurl myself headlong down a slope, lose just a little management, mud myself off, and carry on going. 

A model of this story first appeared within the June 2025 subject of Journey + Leisure underneath the headline «Journey Just like the Wind.”