Cypress is fast. More laps, more tokens, more pressure, and more pace. It’s a constant game of chase and a song of holler. You’re in the woods but you’ve caught the energy of the city below. You rush to get more laps, rush to keep up, to not get caught, you rush to find your rush. In the past, Cypress on a trail bike involved sacrifice—of speed, of stability and of your wrists.
But today is different. There’s no scream of the supercar on its Sunday drive. The snow creates a silence so complete there is no room for hoots and hollers. The line between trail bike and downhill bike feels more blurred than ever before. Strong, calm, and calculated is how I have always ridden a bike; a reflection of my personality, perhaps. Sometimes I wish I was more loose, more stylish or more wild. Maybe today things aren’t as different as I thought. I don’t miss my downhill bike because here I am strong, calm, and calculated. Today, I’m on my Process X and I’m not sacrificing a thing.