I can still close my eyes and visualize the scene surrounding me as I confronted one of the most challenging realities of my life. Trauma, I’ve noticed, doesn’t leave—even years later.

It was a late April morning and already warm enough for short sleeves in the mountains behind Santa Barbara, California. Mornings are my time to ride, and this road trip was no exception. I enjoy the solitude of getting out on the trail early, and I often climb as the sun rises. It is my time to think and clear my head. Sometimes, it’s also when I wrestle with my past.

By 8 a.m., I was pushing my bike up an old dirt road and realizing California riding was no joke. The doubletrack took a hard right, but to my left was a stunning view of the valley my family and I called “home” for the weekend. I could see rows of RVs leading up to the trees, then only glimpses of these traveling homes speckled in the oak trees.

Clouds blanketed the ocean far off to the west. The nearly hour-long climb that morning had prepared me to come to grips with what my family had just left. I was finally able to say the words, even if just to myself: For the past 15 years, I had been in a cult.

I’d only found mountain biking again after the collapse of this high-control church, which culminated with the ousting of its malicious leader. For several months, I watched a manipulative and dishonest man grasp at any strand of the control he once had until the truth of his actions were finally exposed, and all of our eyes were opened to the monster he is.

I didn’t return to mountain biking as a means of therapy. Therapy found me through mountain biking. Each ride, early in the morning, I came to grips with what my adult life had been up to that point: hurt, manipulation, control, and the harrowing realization that even worse had been inflicted on female members of the church. 

The more I rode, the more I processed. And things seemed to get better.

Over time, I came to realize I wasn’t the only one healing from trauma through mountain biking. And while each rider’s experience is distinctly their own, I connected instantly with stories from others. In some cases, I felt as if they could’ve been sharing my experience. Why, I began to wonder, as my curiosity grew, does pedaling a bike off-road seem to be such a potent method for confronting and moving through personal struggles?

Ravi Almeter is a therapist in Oregon, where he works with a variety of clients, including those dealing with trauma. He doesn’t specialize in sports counseling or therapy, but he is an advocate for physical activity as a means of healing. Almeter, a cyclist himself, sees many benefits of mountain biking from a therapeutic perspective.