The mountain air hit Mo’s lungs like a crisp high-five as she pedaled along, her beloved “Pumpkin Spice” eating up the winding spring trail. Those evergreens towered overhead, swaying their branches all casual-like, throwing natural shade. Up ahead, the path hugged the glassy lake – Mo couldn’t resist a little surface-appreciation, ’cause those clouds were putting on one helluva show.

Sun rays filtered through the openings, warm spotlights dancing on the rippled waters. Mo grinned; this right here, this was her happy place. The world’s junk got tuned out, leaving just the thrill of trail-shredding and nature’s sweet embrace.

Speaking of embraces, she thought back to that time “Pumpkin Spice” got a little too friendly with a mud puddle. Ah, easy to do in spring! Breathing deep, she leaned forward, calves burning as she attacked the next stretch. Whatever untamed beauties lay ahead, Mo was stoked to meet ’em head-on.