There’s something beautiful about a long day of mountainboarding on dirt. One can’t help but notice how the dust in the air from an aggressive powerslide appears to dance in the light of a setting sun. Even the sound of your wheels rolling over the dry crumbling earth has an almost musical effect. Is all this real or is it simply the result of too many wrecks. You decide.

There are many of us who have developed a strange kind of love for the dirt we ride. It seems odd as most humans seek to avoid dirt. The mountainboarding dirt lover, on the other hand, searches for it. Hard packed and sun-dried, soft and crumbly, or wet and muddy, all its varieties are welcomed and equally embraced.

Dirt provides a ride like no other substance can offer. It moves and shifts under your wheels almost as if it has waited its whole existence for the sport of mountainboarding to grace its surface. Its sensitivity to weather make it ever changing and often unpredictable. Sun, wind, and rain gradually mold our playground in order to provide us with new riding opportunities.

Let us not forget our good friend Dirt. As we mountainboard its dusty surfaces, let us not consider it to be simply another peice of earth to ride. Surley it is more. It is Dirt. Let your apreciation reflect in your ride as you carve your tracks into its surface. If you wreck, take a moment to enjoy the cloud of dust that applauds your efforts.

Perhaps these thoughts really are brought on by a few too many wrecks. Whatever the case, to those who share similar feelings, for us the ride is all the more enjoyable. So grab your mountainboard and your gear and go out to thank your local dirt.

Most of us have a favorite spot that we ride at again and again. While this is perfectly fine, there is a whole new sensation to be experienced by trying out a new place. It’s all about the element of surprise.

We all know that the more you ride a specific spot, the better you get at it. You get to know every turn and drop. You know what sections have good run-off and which sections don’t. You can almost ride it with your eyes closed.

Well it’s time to shatter your comfort zone. It’s time to ride somewhere you’ve never ridden before. It’s time to face the unknown.

There’s something almost eerie about strapping in at the top of an unknown drop. Find a nice long stretch to really get that mystery factor flowing.

Even if you mapped it out in your head as you hiked up, you still don’t know exactly how the terrain will effect your ride or how the ground will respond. Excitement and uncertainty twist themselves into a knot of adrenaline that seems to lodge itself in your chest. The mind is anxiously awaiting answers to its many questions.

This flood of emotions won’t discourage you however, from strapping in and making the drop. For the mountainboarder, these feelings are soon converted into an intensely enthusiastic energy, better known as “a wicked stoke.”

Riding the unknown is an adventure in itself regardless of the outcome of the ride. You might go right back to your old spot for your next session, but you’ll take a piece of your adventure with you. You’ll be more open to new things. You’ll think more outside the box, keeping your riding far from stale.

Face the unknown. The wicked stoke awaits.

Boardology’s mountainboard girly camp, “DirtFlirt 2008,” was a huge success. The following is their report on the event:

The boom in the number of people taking up boardsports in the UK over the last 10 years has brought about an exciting twist the evolution of the female species. These once demure, fine creatures who sat on the sidelines cheering on the fellas are hatching out of their molds with frenzied speed, sticking a board to their feet and are KICKING BUTT!! This wonderful creation has provided the opportunity for the development of the ‘Girly Camp’ concept where girls can go and learn to ride and grow their skills in a girl-only environment.

So, for years there have been surfing camps, snowboarding camps and skate camps, but last year girl-owned internet board sports retailer Boardology.co.uk teamed up with South West Mountainboarding Centre in Devon to present the World’s first Mountainboarding Girly Camp. Following on from its success and a demand for more, the 2nd Camp (now nicked-named ‘DirtFlirt’ camp), hosted by Hales Superbole Mountainboarding Centre, has just chucked out its latest bunch of mountainboarding graduates after a gruelling 2 days on the lush hills of Chester.

Twenty gutsy girls ranging from newbies to accomplished riders hit the slopes under the expert guidance of the Hales Superbole ATBA qualified instructors. After splitting the group into ability level, the newbs were taught the essentials such as powersliding and carving whilst the advanced group tackled the kickers and boardercross, polishing their technique and style. The girls were further inspired by an impressive freestyle demo by the Hales superbole team, Ladies World Freestyle Champ Jos Kirkman, and Sophie Friedel. Confidence mounted throughout the day and after a very civilised stop for tea and cake even the newbies were flying off the kickers and nailing indie grabs! The evening’s campfire was surrounded a very stoked bunch of girls especially on presentation of the goody bags stuffed with amazing array of cosmetics from Lush, Les Ettes and the Co-op, vouchers from Scar Tissue, stickers from all the sponsors, Boardology t-shirts, gear from Brunotti, Northcore and the DirtFlirt trademark knickers!

Day 2 saw no end to the achievement with confidence levels peaking and everyone trying something they had never done before with spectacular results. The ominous weather held off until all were huddled under the shelter of the Superbole hut for the prize-giving. At that point the heavens opened in a triumphant downpour – a fitting tribute to the very weary, bruised but exceptionally proud ladies of the 2nd Dirt Flirt Camp.

Prizes included a Fat Face Mountainboard, MBS Atom Longboard and MBS Vixen Mountainboard; Clothing from NIKITA, SP snowboarding gear, MBS and Scar Tissue; and Perfume by Les Ettes, Accessories and DVDs from Brunotti and Wind Designs; and 2 VIP tickets to the Fat Face Night Air Freestyle Champs.

Most Improved Newbie Rider award: Felicity Bullamore (Cooler Magazine VIP winner)

Runner up: Amy-Jayne Dutton

Most Improved Advanced Rider: Vicky Holmes

Spirit of the Sport Award: Vicky and Kyrienne Holmes (Mum and daughter duo)

Thanks to all the sponsors for their generosity and for their valuable contribution towards girls mountainboarding.

The buzzing of the power lines on the hillside were the only noise that accompanied me as I made my way up the dusty maintenance road. Not a single person would be seen for the entire day of riding and although mountainboarding is often enjoyed with friends or fellow riders, this time it was just me.

I took advantage of the quiet hike to think about a few things. I thought of my riding, of areas where I wanted to improve and specific portions of the road where I could attempt something new. From time to time I would stop and look down the winding dirt path and try to dream up how I would ride that spot when I came to it.

I took my time getting to the top but was soon as high as I could get. I set down my mountainboard and pulled my water bottle from my pack. Taking a seat between my bindings I took sips from my water while checking out my new view of the valley below. Although I was planning a fast and aggressive descent, the quiet moment was relaxing and soothing.

Soon however, the excitement of the ride began to creep in and overtake me and the still and the quiet were no longer what I was in the mood for. With anticipation of an awesome ride I strapped on my gear and threw my pack on my back. After pushing my feet into my bindings to that familiar “sweet spot” I ratcheted my bindings down a couple clicks, not to loose but not to tight- just how I like it.

With a sudden rush of energy I begin my descent. The quiet of the hillside was shattered by the sound of my wheels carving hard against the dirt below. The side of the road was lined with a steep embankment that was perfect for slashing. Huge clouds of dust hovered in the windless air marking my trail behind me.

Caught up in the flow of the ride, the long windy road seemed to come quickly to an end and soon I was power sliding to a stop at the end of the run. As the dust cloud settled and I stood back up from my crouched position, I reflected on the ride for a moment. It’s strange how sometimes the ride just sort of happens and it’s not until after it’s over that you’re actually able to think about what happened. That moment of reflection is what tops off the ride for me. It connect me with the sport in a way.

While we all love a good day of riding with friends, sometimes an epic solo slash session just seems to hit the spot. Taking time to reflect on what makes you mountainboard and what you most enjoy about it has away of defining you as a rider. It makes the ride all the more meaningful.

Who defines the sport of mountainboarding? Without hesitation, most would agree that definition rests with the riders. But as with every sport in existence, growth and progression often have a way of diluting the heart and soul of the sport. Are we allowing that to happen with mountainboarding?

New gear comes out each year, new parks and centers continue to pop up world wide, and new manufacturers and media companies spring up to add there two cents to the sport of mountainboarding. All these things help to push our sport forward and solidify our place among the sports of the world. Unfortunately, these are the same sources that can slow the individual creativity among new mountainboarders by controlling the “image” of the sport.

As an example, let’s look at a made up scenario. Let’s say we have two brand new mountainboarders, John and Steve, we’ll call them. John lives in the thick of the mountainboarding community, he has three centers close by his house, and a whole crew of riders that are ready to take him under their wing. Steve on the other hand, has never seen a mountainboard other then the one he now owns and he doesn’t have a single center within 1000 miles of where he lives, but he is surrounded by mountains.

Obviously there are the ups and downs to both situations. John will might never know what mountainboarding is like outside of a park or a center but he’ll have plenty of interaction with other riders and will be able to learn from them. Steve, wont know the life of the park riders but he’ll experience the raw version of mountainboarding that comes from slashing the local mountain sides.

Is there any one way to ride? Is mountainboarding about freestyle? Freeride? Is it about boardercross, or how about the urban riding as shown in Freestyler.com video that we have posted this week? We all know that mountainboarding has many flavors and there really is no right or wrong. The key is that each rider finds his/her own way to enjoy the ride.

In conclusion, mountainboarding is very much a sport born of creativity, and has many different avenues. Each rider has his/her own riding style. Many new riders come in this sport and look around wide-eyed for an example of what they’re suppose to be doing. Mountainboarding isn’t about what you’re “suppose to” do, it’s more about taking the opportunities that present themselves and turning them into the most epic rides ever. So are we, as riders, defining mountainboarding and allowing the “money-makers” of the sport to back us up; or are we letting them define our sport for us?

This article was first published in April of this year and has since been gathering dust in the MountainBoard.net archives. We decided to dig it out and repost it as Thursday’s featured story. Enjoy.

The howling of the coyotes in the distance broke the long silence that had accompanied me on my hike. I stopped to listen for a moment and looked out over the canyon in their direction. The moon was hidden in the clouds and only a few stars gave light to the winding firebreak road under my feet.

The weight of my pack with my board strapped to it reminded me that I still had a ways to go. As I turned to continue up the dirt road, a drop of adrenaline tingled through me disturbing the calm I had felt just seconds before. My purpose this night was a simple one, born of the quiet insanity that many mountainboarders share in common. Tonight I would challenge my senses on a solo mission I called, “Operation Night Ride.”

Each time I stumbled over a rut or a loose rock, the haunting feeling of hesitation would claw its way into my thoughts. The rules I had set for myself beforehand were seeming more impossible with every step. I had set just two simple rules. Rule number one was that no light would be allowed, not even a flashlight. The second rule was that no walking downhill would be allowed, every inch of the winding path that stretched for just under a mile had to be ridden. My pace slowed as I fought my doubts.

Soon I was at the top. A light breeze passed through the canyon. I listened to the tall grass as it swayed somewhere in the shadows nearby. I slowly strapped on my gear, still waiting for some kind of motivation to push away my fears.

My board squeaked as I stepped into my bindings. Then it was silent. No coyotes howling, no wind through the grass, not even a single cricket made a sound during that moment. It was in that silence that I found my motivation. Not a motivation that pushed away the fear; but a motivation that embraced the fear. Energy surged through me and all I wanted to do was ride.

Hesitation was swallowed up with the silence as the loud rumble of my wheels over the dirt and rocks tore through the night air. The air rushed by me as my speed increased. Straining to see the terrain was a hopeless cause and I soon found myself watching only for the faint glow of the path as it snaked it’s way downhill. I found that I had to adjust instantly to each bump and dip as I felt it. I couldn’t see ahead to plan. I had to ride the moment.

Each time I tried to use my eyes to see ahead, I was deceived by the shadows and would overcorrect and find myself slamming into the almost invisible ground below. The extreme confusion of it all and the overload of the senses seemed to drive me to get back up and follow my second rule, to ride it all.

At one section I felt several scattered rocks hitting my trucks. The thought of falling on the rocks distracted me from my focus and I hit the ground. I tumbled to a stop after rolling over several of the rocks. My whole body hurt. I had already wrecked so many times in such a small amount of time and this one seemed to remind me of them all.

After catching my breath, I crawled to my board that lay upside-down some 20 feet away. I turned it upright and collapsed over it. Then I started to laugh. All alone, bruised and bleeding in places I didn’t even know yet, I laughed. The insanity of the whole situation made me laugh even more. I got back up and finished the ride.

As I drove home, I took a moment to ponder what the ride had taught me. I learned first of instinct and how “letting go” can improve your ride, even when you can’t see. I learned that fear shouldn’t be pushed away, that it should be embraced in its positive form. Finally, I learned to ride the moment, whether you can see or not, the thrill is in the moment.

In conclusion, despite the throbbing pain that covered me for days to come, Operation Night Ride was a complete success.

The sun was high in the sky as the three of us hiked up the dusty maintenance road. For Tony and Rodney, this would be their first mountainboarding experience. I had done my best to pick a good beginner location with gentle slopes, “good dirt,” and plenty of run-offs to ease the mind of the often over hesitant newbie. With no boards of their own, I let them use my “loaner board,” an old MBS Sol 16 that has seen more than it’s share of quality mountainboarding chaos.

Aside from it being there first time mountainboarding, Tony and Rodney were two very different people. Tony, a fitness enthusiast in his early 40s, had never attempted a single board sport. He was the kind of person that appears quiet and serious on the surface but keeps you guessing the more you get to know them. Conservative at times but always full of a kind of active ambition, the kind of ambition that spurs great ideas like mountainboarding and base jumping.

Rodney on the other hand was a different animal. Almost 20 years younger and far from quiet. He had, to some extent, participated in nearly every board sport out there except for mountainboarding. On the day this story takes place, Rodney had a sore ankle from a recent injury involving too much alcohol, a flag pole, and…let’s call it a “patriotic urge.”

As you can see, two very different people, but both about to strap in for their first time. Rodney was eager to go first. “I won’t need these,” he said throwing the elbow pads back at me, “I’m a skateboarder.”

I didn’t feel the need to argue. What was the use. His recent flag pole incident had already proven his deep desire to make incredibly bad decisions. Who am I to interfere with dreams like that.

Once he was set I gave him a quick crash course and them rode down to the bottom of the stretch he was about to ride. Rodney didn’t hesitate to let the speed build up. His “less thought, more action” mentality showed in the huge smile on his face as he barreled down the hill. Unfortunately, the mild corner he planned to take was a bit much for the speed he was packing. Soon the flailing began and then, in a desperate attempt to spot, rolled over the berm backwards launching his right shoe about 20 feet. It was beautiful.

After we located the shoe and had a few laughs it was Tony’s turn. Tony strapped in a bit more hesitant than Rodney, possibly because of his nature and possibly because of the shoe-tossing wreck he just witnessed. But without much delay he had clipped on his helmet and was on his way.

His riding appeared somewhat awkward at first which might have had something to do with his conservative- “Listen I’m 40, seen a lot of people get hurt and I don’t want to be one of them”- mentality, but probably more due to his lack of board sports experience. His riding became more smooth as the day went on and he was aggressive enough to take a couple good spills.

All in all it was a great day of riding. Two brand new riders getting their first taste of mountainboarding along with the dirt that comes with it. As I watched the two of them ride I realized there was a few things we all can learn from these newbies.

Tony taught us the value of a good balance between being safe enough to not lose your shoe, and being aggressive enough strap in and ride, despite the hesitation. Rodney taught us on that reckless aggressiveness can have it’s time in place when we want to push through fear and learn quickly, as long as we come out in one piece in the end.

Next time you take a couple newbies out for their first ride, don’t sit back and think you are the all-knowing expert. There is always something you can learn from another rider, no matter what his/her experience level.

It’s inside every lover of mountainboarding. It can be found somewhere beneath the dirt and pads, and the blood, and the mud. It’s an unexplainable addiction to the ride that drives us like animals to move the sport wildly forward. It inspires and motivates, it dissolves limitations and boundaries. Mountainboarding is truly a unique sport.

Many mountainboarders began riding as an off-season alternative to snowboarding, or to fill in the gaps of surfing or skateboarding. This however, was only the beginning. Over the years, mountainboarding has blown away the early expectations of the sport. Riders have learned ways to tame the chaotic nature of the sport and by so doing have redefined the sport along with it’s potential.

The desire to push this sport forward to new levels can be seen in even the newest of riders. Mountainboarding is still a relatively new sport in many parts of the world which seems to light a flame of inspiration inside of us all. Open for interpretation, this is a sport always ready to be redefined.

Even in small quiet pockets of the earth, places where mountainboarding is know my only a handful of people, there are those who strap in an represent. Hundreds of miles from the nearest mountainboard center, mud covered riders drag there boards up nearby hills or along windy mountain ridges in search of thrash-worthy terrain.

All of us are united by this desire and feed off the same addiction. We all have our own way of expressing ourselves, our own way of pushing forward. Some of us bring the sport to new levels in fast paced competitions. Others never compete in a single event but redefine the limitation of mountainboarding as there wheels roar through mountain canyons, or down steep jungle hillsides.

Regardless of skill level or location, every rider who calls him/herself a mountainboarder has something to offer this sport.

Like a gymnast on a balance beam you scream down the narrow single-track.  Thick brush and small trees line the sides of your pathway of fate.  You struggle to maintain your balance as you reach a near uncontrollable speed.  Your emotions twitching from pure exhilaration to complete panic and fear.

If you’ve ever experienced mountainboarding a single-track you know that there is only so much to do to control your ride.  As soon as you drop in you are at the mercy of the track.  If it drops steep, so do you.  If it curves hard to the left, then you better do the same.  If a boulder or a log covers a portion of the track then you better figure something out quick.

There is little that can be offered in terms of advise to those mountainboarding single-tracks.  Brakes are obviously helpful, but if you are looking to actually “ride” the track, then they’re out of the question.  This lack of options is what attracts many of the riders of the forbidden single-track. 

Speed management is one of the biggest obstacles you’ll face.   The option to carve is out the window on most single-tracks, but depending on your surrounding terrain you might be able to use it.  If the track is carved into the ground, you might be able to rub the edges to slow your descent.  Brush or tall grass can be used to slow yourself by simply running your arms through it to provide drag.  Watch out for stationary objects if you try this; you don’t want to wrap your arm around a tree.

If after looking at the severe lack of options you still decide to mountainboard a single-track, then buckle your helmet and get ready for a rush. Stay focused or you’ll lose your balance and tweak out.  Mountainboarding is always full of split-second decisions, single-tracks just make it a smaller split-second. Keep your eye on that track, it’s the key to your fate- good or bad. 

Single tracks, insanely steep drops, unknown terrain…  Great places for a handbrake right?  Wrong, if you’re part of the ninety percent that responded to a recent mountainboard survey entitled, “Do You Use Brakes?”  This logic can easily be confused by a non-believer in the no brakes philosophy.  Each of us have our own reason for ditching the brake but all seem to share a common theme, freedom.

Some mountainboarders avoid the handbrakes because they feel that they become too dependant on them.  While there are many brake-users that feel they have found the right balance, there are also many who haven’t.  It’s very easy to get accustomed to squeezing down on the brakes in order to stay in your comfort zone.  Those who become a slave to their brakes not only forfeit their freedom but there ability to progress as quickly.

There are other riders that use brakes as beginners in order to learn the basics.  This might be helpful to some but it’s more of a matter of how you view mountainboarding.  If you see it as what the ninety percent see it as, then you might argue that the basics of mountainboarding start with the fact that brakes are not part of the package.  To them it’s like fishing in a fish tank- where’s the sport in that. 

Still there are others who feel that by attatching a brake to their mountainboard they lose a certain element of style.  Having to battle with the cable as you crash through low brush or drop your stance.  They feel that it robs them of the simplicity, the flow, and the thrill of the ride.

There are many reasons why the ninety percent choose to say ”no,” to brakes.  In the end, it seems they just want to feel free.  There’s something inside that tells them to let go and to ride hard.  It’s not a wreckless death wish, it’s more of a plea from the soul to find oneself.  There’s a very unique thrill to be found in depending on your skills and your instinct alone as you ride.  Decide for yourself.