“Jackson.” A tall, wiry man with unruly brown hair holds up his fist.
“Blake.” I bump my knuckles against his. “Thanks for taking the time to meet with me.”
“Of course. I never turn down an opportunity to show off our bike park. Have you ridden it, yet?”
“I got in too late yesterday.” I shake my head sheepishly.Nice job dumbass. How are you supposed to talk bike park details if you don’t know what they are?
“Well, this won’t take all day. I’ll give you a lift ticket so you can check it out when we’re done. Maybe I’ll even take a few runs with you. You know… to show you the key details it takes to make an epic park.” He grins widely as he holds open the door to his office, and I step inside to what's basically a shrine to biking.
Sketches of some of the first mountain bikes line the walls, showcasing the progression of the technology from those early models to what we use today. There are a few signed jerseys, framed along with action pictures of the rider on the track, hanging on either side of the door, where Jackson can see them from his desk if he’s facing the room. All he has to do is spin his chair for a clear view of the mountain, and the bikes careening down it.
I’m not an office guy, mainly because the ones I’ve seen make me think of a prison cell, but this one doesn’t give me claustrophobia. It actually seems pretty comfortable, although with a view like that I wonder how the guy gets any work done. I’d be too tempted to hit the trail. Then again, maybe that's the job, in which case this guy is who I want to be when I grow up.
Taking a seat in the chair across from him so I have a view of the desk, Jackson shows me some of the drawings used to obtain the permits they needed to build the park. Elevation changes are listed along the trail so things like runoff and erosion can be factored into any paths they carve or features they add. It’s similar to what I’ve seen doing trail maintenance, and yet so much more.
Back country trails follow the slope of the mountain while those at the resort sometimes go against it. Of course, all trails work their way down hill, but in the back country we just try to enhance the natural terrain, whereas at the resort they re-engineer it. In some places they’ve carved giant switchbacks into the side of the hill, effectively turning the trail into a luge. Bridges string gaps together that would otherwise be unrideable, and in some cases, they create a launch point to jump downhill over sections that are too rocky to navigate on a bike. It’s a literal playground for adults and it makes me sort of giddy.
I’ve seen stuff like this before, mostly on YouTube, and I've even ridden a small-scale version of what Jackson’s built here when I didmy stint in California. But until today, I’ve never had a “before and after” glimpse of the trail. The final product is epic, which makes me realize I have zero idea how to build something like this myself.
My stomach sinks as reality sets in, and my breathing becomes labored. Though I suspected as much, some part of me was hoping my experience was enough to land the job of building a park in Katah Vista. That in sending me here, Carter was actually giving me a shot at a job I’m passionate about, one I could turn into a career. And maybe that was his intent, but plans are underway to make the skiable terrain in Katah Vista a world-renowned destination, so it stands to reason Carter will want the same for the bike park, and I’m not that guy. Not if this is the final product he wants.
“Does this help answer your questions about building a park?” Jackson says after finishing his overview of their process.
I offer a wary smile as I run a hand through my hair. “Not even close.”
He barks out a laugh. “I get it. A project like this has a way of raising more questions the deeper you dive into it.”
“Exactly.” I blow out a frustrated breath. “I don’t suppose you’re available to hire?” We both know that’s an off-hand suggestion, though truth be told I’m not kidding. I have a feeling Carter wouldn’t object to tapping into Jackson’s expertise.
He gives me a headshake, wearing a proud grin as he does it. “Sorry. My setup here is too sweet to give up, although my assistant might be game.”
“I’ll mention that to Carter. Thanks again for your time.” I rise and offer him my fist just as he did when we first met. We bump knuckles, though he holds up a finger to keep me from leaving.
“Lift ticket.” He thrusts a card into my hand. “Show this to the guys at the counter and they’ll get you a day pass.”
“I’d love to, but I don’t have my bike with me.” I feel the heat creeping up my neck.Could I have been more unprepared for this day?
“Not a problem. You can try a demo bike.” He hands me another card. “That’ll get you a free rental. I’m partial to Yeti, but Santa Cruz makes a great bike too, and we’ve got both in the shop. Take one out for a few runs. I’ll try to join you after I finish payroll.”
I accept the second card with a nod and head over to the bike shop to gear up, figuring it might make sense to report back on how the park rides. And, okay, I figure I might as well enjoy this perk while I can since it's unlikely I’ll be involved in whatever Carter does going forward.
Lift operators load my bike onto the chair for me, and then it’s a peaceful ten-minute ride to the top of the hill before another set of attendants have my bike waiting for me when I get off.I always preach that you have to earn the downhill, but I could seriously get used to having a motor do all the work.
Choosing a blue for my first run, a warm up, I pedal down a gradual slope before dropping into a series of S curves with berms so high I can lay the bike parallel to the ground as I whip around the turns.Damn, that’s a rush.Then I’m in the trees, floating over a series of rollers that make my belly drop like I’m on a roller coaster. The run finishes in a meadow with sweeping turns where I can pick up speed despite the fact that I'm barely going downhill.
I hit a black run next, balancing on my pedals as I roll over a rocky steep that mimics a staircase. Then it’s onto a dirt section in the trees where roots jut out of the ground to interrupt the smooth flow of the trail. Massive tabletop jumps complete the run, giving me a chance to grab some big air.
By the time I’ve explored just about every run available, my legs are burning and my chest doesn’t feel so hollow. A good bike ride hasthat effect, wearing me out even as it rejuvenates me. Feeling content, I return the gear and head back to the hotel, intending to shower and order room service. But the quiet of my room feels oppressive after sharing a room with Jace, so I head back to the bar hoping it will distract me for the few hours I have to kill before crawling into bed.
Chapter five
Kane
The sun has started its descent by the time I catch up enough to call it a day, making me wonder why I bother with vacation when all the stress it’s supposed to relieve comes back the moment I see all the work that piled up in my absence. The only consolation is that my to-do list is on the mountain instead of some stuffy office. Jackson may get the bigger paycheck, but I’ve got the better job, or so I like to believe.
Tossing my bag in the passenger seat, I go through the motions of heading home, only to realize I have nothing to go home to. The fridge is just as bare as the house itself, and I don’t have the energy to survive a trip to the grocery store. Even if there was food, it’s hard to muster the excitement to cook for one, which is why I’ve rarely done it since Brian moved out nearly a year ago. Looks like I’m eating out again.
“Hey, Kane. The usual for dinner?” Jason asks as he sets my favorite beer in front of me, a Hefeweizen with an orange slice. Too bad I still can’t take the first sip without hearing Brian’s disapproving voice telling me what a travesty is to put fruit in beer.
