Fireworks, Forests, and Full Send
Kellogg Can Wait
We were supposed to go to Kellogg. Silver Mountain, the bike park there, has been on regular rotation for us, and it’s a good time. But this particular trip was always going to be Whitefish Mountain, because July 4th changes the math entirely.
Here’s the thing about fireworks: they absolutely dysregulate me. Not in a mild, “oh that’s a bit much” way. In a real, physiological, let’s-make-a-plan-around-this way. Kellogg throws their fireworks show right in the parking lot of the resort, which is impressively inconvenient if you happen to be someone trying to avoid exactly that. So Kellogg was out. Easy decision, actually.
Whitefish Mountain sits on Forest Service land, which means no sanctioned fireworks, and more importantly, fewer people with the bright idea to light things off anyway. We figured we’d ride the mountain, then find somewhere quiet to wait out the holiday. The kind of place where July 4th is just a Thursday with better weather.
The downhill bike hadn’t been to Whitefish yet, which added a small layer of genuine excitement to the whole thing. New trails, familiar routine, different backdrop. That teal enduro rig leaned against a tree somewhere in the pines looked exactly as comfortable as it had any right to be.
On an entirely separate note, I’d also been eyeing electric dirt bikes lately. Spotted one parked under the Silver Mountain trail map sign and had to stop for a moment. No noise, no fumes, just that aggressive motocross stance sitting there quietly judging everyone’s decisions. They look like an unreasonable amount of fun, which means this is the one where I’m actively avoiding it, and what works out is fine.
July 1st Has Some Explaining to Do
July 1st has a long history of demanding something, whether it was a brutal mountain bike climb in the dark, a kidney-testing 24-hour race, or a quiet moment pressing a hand to aquarium glass in Seattle. Looking back across 23 years of entries, the date traces a clear arc from broken spokes and barbecue requests to watching a starfish move and feeling genuinely grateful to notice it. Same restless spirit, slowly learning to ride its own pace.
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