Bristal pit

There it was, the pit shaped from past bikers. An old shovel left at the top of the hill, possibly left there for others like me to reshape jumps, make a jump, or other possibilities.

http://cityexplorer.yellowknife.ca/imf-aims51/imf.jsp?site=yk_maps

I ended up here alone. At the top of the hill its super unquiet. Next to the pit there's an airport that isn't the busiest, but enough planes flying around to be to noisy to live in the area. Rolling down the hill I realized I forgot my helmet. uh oh. oh well. I roll up to the jumps cautious at first. testing the loose gravel trying to make paths i would take. I need to get used to speed i tell my self, and air.

So i take the biggest jump to get used to it all. First Jump, perfect. Rear wheel lands first and I gain more confidence in my riding skillz.




Walk back up the hill watching a herc take off right above me. The night earlier I saw on the news, a plane tried to take off but failed and killed 150 people on board. This pit would be the worst place to be in the same situation.

The next ride down I put my self in the situation I didn't want to be in, riding down in the same path of a stream, and my front tire locks into it. I miss my turn, and since I'm getting used to speed, I'm going pretty quickly the wrong way. fuck

I'm heading for the big jump, totally mess it up.

Scratched up arms, knees, tweek my previously dislocated finger, but the head is fine, I know how to take a fall...i think

I get back up, make sure the bike is ok, push it back up. Throw my sweater back on. Maybe an other day