Sometimes the most difficult place to make compelling images is close to home. While on the road, every corner and horizon is a fresh possibility, a wave of imagination waiting on a bit of contemplation. Creativity piggybacks on discovery, and somehow it’s just easier.

I grew up in the Kootenays and have lived in Nelson since 2008. I have spent endless hours grinding up the steep ascents out my front door, and sheltered in the mid-summer shade of countless logging roads. I can ride my favorite trails in darkness and thread every rock, root, and bar-grabbing tree like it’s midday. How do I capture the essence of something so familiar that I no longer need my eyes to see it?

Nelson has over 100 trails, most advanced and technical and all of which don’t suffer fools lightly. Some are celebrated—many, however, are long-forgotten. Wooden stunts, covered with moss and rusty nails, dot the surrounding hillsides like a scene from the Blair Witch Project. Old jumps and spiraling skinnies catch the corner of your eye as you careen through the forest.Selecting only three would be tricky; seeing new in the known would be even trickier. So I decided to turn my lens to a fresh generation of trails, ones that are redefining the area’s traditionally DH reputation.

While Nelson is not known for its cross-country, that is quickly changing with trails like Vallelujah, a XC trail in Smallwood, a newly created riding area south of town. Vallelujah boasts staggering vistas of the Valhalla Mountains and the closest thing the region has to an “alpine” ride.

As the many grown-over road gaps and step-downs prove, building jumps in the area is not a new pursuit—however, machine-built jump trails are. Lefty’s is the first, a smooth-as-butter series of over 50 gaps and tables on Morning Mountain, just beside the old Blewett Ski Hill. The meticulously crafted line snakes and flows down the mountain, a modern take on Nelson’s freeride scene.

Still, there’s a reason Nelson is known for its downhill, and nowhere is that more evident than Powerslave, when combined with lower-mountain trails becomes a nine-mile monster that descends 5,500 feet from the top of Toad Mountain to Nelson. Powerslave is possibly the first of a new era of trails in the region with an emphasis on flow over technicality, its loamy corners weaving through towering cedar trees and past silver claims from the region’s mining history. Once reached mostly by heli-drop, recent logging has allowed for better pedal access—and is quickly turning the trail into a worldwide classic.

Traveling an unknown road obviously and easily leads to fresh perspectives. However, sometimes the most insight and appreciation comes from looking at the familiar in an entirely new way. Nelson has been—and still is—one of the epicenters of freeride progression, earning itself a hallowed place in mountain biking’s most legendary locales. And, as much as anything, it reminds me why I live here in the first place.