Words: Chris Lesser
Photos: Morgan Meredith
They don’t call it the spillway for nothing—when the water lets loose this parking lot is 8 feet under.
A quest for singletrack south of the Mason-Dixon line reveals a cast of unlikely characters, a hearty riding culture and a hollerin’ good time. Over the course of nine days and 1,500 miles, we mercilessly flog a rental van and live off deep-fried food as we search for the South’s finest trails.
Louisiana: Meet the Mutants
SOUTH
The South is often reduced to clichés and is generally misunderstood by those who live outside it. But what’s the riding like? That simple question drove us to venture below the Mason-Dixon Line in search of answers. Starting in New Orleans and winding east, we set out to explore one of the country’s most overlooked regions. The quality of the characters we met along the way was matched only by the caliber of trails they showed us. Some were defiantly scratched into swampland, while others were built with church-group labor. We came looking for trails and found an under-exposed mountain bike scene with its own wild and exotic singletrack.
TEN FOR ‘10