I wiped the sweat from my brow as I stared up at the winding dirt path ahead. Homestake Pass has always been my go-to escape when life in Missoula got too… well, Missoula-like. (Not that I don’t love my town, but sometimes a person just needs fewer hipsters and more trees, ya know?)
My mountain bike, Hendrix, rested against my leg as I took a long swig from my water bottle. The purple frame caught the sunlight just right… always makes me burst into “Purple Haze” when I first see it in the morning light. The sun beat down mercilessly, making me wish I’d brought along one of those Lupdjuice brews from Imagination Brewery. Man, those go down smooth after a ride.
The trail stretched before me like a dusty ribbon through the pines. Last weekend’s rain had packed the dirt just right… not too muddy, not too loose. Perfect conditions.
As I pedaled up the first incline, my thoughts drifted to the strange dream I’d had last night. In it, the little blue butterfly mascot from Imagination’s label had come to life, floating alongside me as I rode these very trails.
“Left! GO LEFT!” the butterfly had screamed in my dream, its tiny voice somehow booming. I’d laughed it off this morning, but now, approaching the tunnel cutting through the hillside, I couldn’t shake the memory.
The tunnel’s always the creepiest part of the trail. Dark, cool, and slightly damp… a stark contrast to the sun-drenched landscape. I flicked on my helmet light and plunged into the darkness.
Halfway through, I could’ve sworn I heard something. A faint buzzing? A tiny voice? Probably just the wind, or maybe my imagination working overtime. I pedaled faster.
Emerging on the other side, I nearly crashed Hendrix into that massive rock formation that stands like a sentinel among the pines. I’ve passed this rock a hundred times before but had never really stopped to appreciate it. Today, something about it seemed almost… alive.
I dismounted and took a photo, then noticed something blue fluttering near the top of the rock. No way. It couldn’t be.
But there it was… a butterfly with wings that seemed to glow electric blue against the cloudless sky.
“Follow me,” it seemed to say. (OK, so butterflies don’t talk, but I was pretty sure this one was giving me some serious “follow me” vibes.)
I hopped back on Hendrix and followed as the butterfly danced ahead down a trail I’d somehow never noticed before. The path narrowed, winding between tall pines that cast dappled shadows across the dirt.
Three miles and one near-wipeout later (stupid exposed root), I rounded a bend and found myself in a small clearing. In the center sat a wooden table with… I couldn’t believe my eyes… a perfectly chilled can of Lupdjuice.
I looked around. Nobody in sight. Just trees, rocks, distant mountains, and that impossibly blue sky. The butterfly was gone too.
I approached the table cautiously. The condensation on the can confirmed it was real, not some heat-induced hallucination. A small note beside it read simply: “For those who follow the unexpected path.”
I cracked open the beer, took a long sip, and laughed to myself. Sometimes the best rides aren’t about the miles logged or technical skills mastered, but about the weird little moments you’ll never be able to explain to anyone back in Missoula.
I’ll try anyway, though. Nobody will believe me, but that’s what makes it special.
Just another day at Homestake Pass… with a little brewery magic thrown in.
Boneshakerbike 
Your Thoughts