27 May Images of the West: The Wyoming Way Down

Mountain biking promises freedom and escape, but most rides are confined to a dirt strip just wide enough for two tires. While I love the feeling of cruising fast remote singletrack, what really obsesses me is freeriding: descending an open face where the trail is only dictated by trees and rocks. Tapping into my skier’s mindset, I scout a blank mountainside, evaluate the dirt, and choose a line that pushes what might be possible.

Alex Chay burns in a quick skidder trail entrance to a landslide so that he and the author can attempt a mountain bike ride.

Time spent on Google Earth pays off as it can reveal open lines through well-spaced trees.

A trip like this takes weeks of planning — spending hours on satellite maps, syncing schedules, lining up a crew to camp — but no amount of prep can erase the uncertainty. Will the line even go? Will it be worth it?

This time, we set our sights on an old landslide in rural Wyoming, a spot we’d stumbled across years ago on some forgotten mission. From the start, doubt battled confidence. Was it rideable? Was it even accessible? Soon enough, we were shouldering bikes through a waist-deep, glacial mountain river. Steep hiking followed through a shale-covered slope, every step up another moment to second-guess: Can I control speed in this dirt? Will I stop before those rocks? Start slow and accelerate, or start fast and hope to slow down?

Chay hikes his bike up the loose scree to the top of the line.

Relaxing at camp after a good day in the mountains means Fat Tires, grilled burgers, and a sunset.

Before we could even attempt the ride, we had to build an entrance. The landslide’s edge was sheer and unrideable. It took a half day of digging; not much, just enough to carve a loamy notch into the slope, something that would disappear within a month — the freeride equivalent of cutting a cornice into an untouched couloir.

Finally, after all the effort, it was time. The radio crackled: “All clear.” Ben Dann, our filmer, and Charles Stemen, our photographer, had finished their own hike to the opposite ridge.

A deep breath. Release the brakes.

The author tightens ankle braces before heading up to ride.

Above a sea of clouds, the author and Chay push through wildflowers in the Wyoming high country.

The run is a blur, each turn reminiscent of a long ago powder day. And before you can process it, it’s over — maybe 20 seconds. High-fives are passed around generously.

You throw the bike on your shoulder and do it again.

Cody Wilkins is a professional trail builder, skier, and mountain biker based out of Bellingham, Washington. He manages Sensus RAD Trails, a nonprofit trail company that builds and designs progressive trails all over the world. Although based in the Pacific Northwest, Wilkins calls the Tetons a second home and can be found there building trails in an excavator all summer and hiking around for good snow in the winter.

Charles Stemen is an architectural and adventure photographer based in Bozeman, Montana. When he’s not behind the camera or running his design studio, he’s probably skiing at Bridger Bowl, hiking bikes into questionable terrain, or convincing his adventure partner there’s good light “ just 10 minutes further up.”