For most East Coast mountain bikers, being added to the highly selective— and very short list of riders to complete all 68 super-rocky miles of the Massanutten Trail in a single day would be considered a lifetime achievement.

For Sue Haywood, the “The Ring” challenge as it’s known, was little more than a fun day in the saddle.

During her decade as a professional racer, Haywood racked up a lengthy palmarès: U.S. Short Track and Super-D National Champion; 24-Hour Solo World Champion; Pan-American Mountain Bike Champion; multiple World Cup podiums; and winner of numerous other 100-mile and 24-hour races. In 2018, she earned a Master’s Enduro National Championship title.

Five years ago, if you had told Wheelbilly Bikes mechanic Hannah Ellison that she’d be working at a bike shop in Hurricane, West Virginia, she likely would have said, “Where’s Hurricane?”

Situated in the far southwestern corner of West Virginia, nearly equidistant between the capital of Charleston and the city of Huntington, Hurricane (pronounced “hurr-i-kinn”) has a long history of being a place you pass through but never linger long. That’s not to say that Hurricane was a desolate place.

Throughout the state’s history of European settlement, Hurricane always mattered. In the early 1800s, when farming fueled Putnam County, it mattered that the settlement—then called Hurricane Bridge— was located in a fertile valley on a creek.

West Virginia holds some of the most rugged singletrack riding in the country. While the New River Gorge region offers a slight respite from some of its more gnarly terrain, it still boasts a few of the most iconic rides in the Mountain State.

“It’s on a plateau, so there aren’t going to be super long climbs or descents,” said Andrew Forron, who lives in Fayetteville and has been riding in the New River Gorge for three decades. “I wouldn’t call the terrain super hard. There are some legitimate blacks and some hard trails around. It has amazing traction—even when it’s dry. It’s a special spot in West Virginia. It’s got good dirt, and it doesn’t beat you to death.”

As the sun sets beyond evergreen trees atop Cheat Mountain, an evening ride becomes blanketed in amber light that dances upon dense patches of moss, waving pockets of ferns, and soft spruce needles.

Tight turns and unmanicured rock gardens invite riders to slow down and take note of their surroundings. At first glance, the forests of Appalachia appear as a flat canvas of green, but the evening light exposes rocky nooks, steep chutes, meandering streams, and an immense world of flora and fauna hidden within the seemingly monotone expanse. More than a change in appearance, the golden hues imbue a feeling of warmth and connection to these ancient Appalachian Mountains.

It’s late October and the morning sun is just starting to rise over the hills of the Cheat River Valley, a tributary in eastern West Virginia.

The sky glows pastel and fog stalls on the water of Cheat Lake. Route 68 is void of cars as I roll past the exit for Cooper’s Rock, a reminder that almost all trails in West Virginia are close to a lot of places, but somehow never really near any of them.

It’s been years since I last made this drive, and little seems out of place. The roadside Americana that is making me nostalgic for a time I barely knew is enhanced by the alt-country tunes of Son Volt coming through my speakers.

The sun crests the horizon line formed by the hulking mass of Cabin Mountain and the Allegheny Front, illuminating Sue Haywood and her pup, DD, in golden light as they suit up for an early morning ride from her home atop Canaan Mountain in Tucker County.

Almost a thousand feet below in the wide bottom of Canaan Valley, a sea of mist laps at trees still huddled in the shadows. By the time the sun’s potent rays evaporate the low-lying fog from the valley floor, Haywood and DD will be miles out in the Canaan Mountain Backcountry.

“No matter where you live around here, whether you’re in Davis or in Canaan Valley or up on the mountain, access is pretty much instantaneous due to the sheer amount of public land we have,” says Haywood.