The welcoming comfort of early autumn light livens the carefully puzzled sandstone slabs with a signature orange glow. It’s mid-September, and the first time in weeks that temperatures allow for any solid time on trail. Is that the sound of a hub or a cicada swarm? When conditions are ideal and mountain bikers emerge, it’s hard to tell the difference.

Summer resists quitting here in the central region of Arkansas. Every morning between June and September, riders check weather apps to see if the humidity level and temperature has dipped below 90% and 90 degrees. If so, it’s time to squeeze in a lap before work. If not, a ride after the sun retreats below the horizon may be more prudent. Arkansans live for the months between October and May—prime riding season.

On one such milder evening, the thump of rubber rolling over natural obstacles and the abrupt whines of neglected brakes trigger whitetails to retreat through the scree that surrounds the upper bench of Mount Nebo State Park in Dardanelle, Arkansas. Locals Johnny Brazil and Tyler Balloun pump through the rock gardens that populate Lizard Tail, highly aware that each conscious moment means the difference between success and failure—in a big way—thanks to the harrowing drop-off into the Arkansas River Valley to their left. In an odd symphony of grunts and yews through the trail’s signature stone ribbons nestled under sandstone overhangs, they wax poetic about two things during stops: the increasing amount of attention this sleepy area has received in recent years and the various maneuvers they can employ to successfully session this four-mile, roundtrip, out and back black diamond line. Lizard Tail tests riders’ resolve but escorts all that accept its challenge past panoramic views, under a seasonal waterfall, and across long stretches of undulating terrain. This is the central Arkansas riding experience in a nutshell: challenging hand-cut trails mixed with a dash of thoughtfully created machine-built lines constructed with the modern mountain bike in mind.