Smoke and Euphoria

I finally got out. It was July 15, 2024, and the height of mountain bike season. Today wasn’t about perfection… just a quick and dirty escape after work, a climb for the sake of climbing. My legs smiled as I pedaled my mountain bike up University Mountain, the evening sun throwing long shadows over Missoula, Montana. The rhythm of the pedals, the solitude of the ascent… it was enough.

But fire was creeping through the Miller Creek drainage. The thought gnawed at the edge of my mind. Was this the end of the season? The trails, the mountains, the endless lines waiting to be ridden… all of it threatened by the silent force of smoke and flame. The air felt clear up here, but doubt settled in my chest heavier than my breathing.

I summited. The descent was a masterpiece—flowing, fast, every turn carved with precision. By the time I pulled into the driveway, all that remained was euphoria. A beer, a shower, the glow of a ride well done. The fire? Forgotten… until the scent of smoke curled through the evening air.

Some endings you don’t see coming, but they were always waiting.