Tim Wild packs a bike and his sense of adventure and takes part in the Sedona Mountain Bike Festival in Arizona. Words Tim Wild Photography as credited Credit: Natalie StarrI’ve watched too much YouTube and now I’m going to die. The cliff face – a 400ft plunge into Sedona’s Oak Tree Canyon – is an inch from my front wheel. I’m breathing harder than an Olympic weightlifter and I’ve already fallen off three times. Fear, adrenaline and heat have turned my brain to boiling mush. If I don’t get myself together, this ride might be my last. I’m on the Hangover Trail, high above Sedona in the Arizona desert, one of America’s most challenging trails. I’m scared, I’m hurt, I’m alone and I’m thousands of miles from my loving family. How on earth did I end up here? We need to rewind to a laptop screen, West Sussex, winter of 2020… Fantasy Holiday Manager Pandemic homeworking has made my riding feet… itchy. When – or maybe if – all this is over, where will my dream riding holiday be? The loam and roots of Squamish? The skittery rock chutes of the Los Angeles Basin? The groomed and convenient jump trails of Bentonville, Arkansas? As the potential lifting of the US travel ban grows imminent, my dreams become possibilities, and the rock trails of Sedona rise from a whisper to a shout that drowns out all other options. I book a flight to Phoenix, and pray Covid-19 doesn’t mess things up. ...
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