Pondering the surrounding 360-degree view, I wonder to myself; how is this all going to play out. As I always do, I pray; that all will end well and safe. I put on my goggles and when the wind fades, I take a last deep breath. I visualize what I have to do from the top to bottom. And with the crackle of my radio, I announce to my crew “dropping”. Away I go.

I start my line with an 8foot air into a steep chute; I land clean and make the time to take a couple of turns before the slope starts to get really steep. As the slope narrows and steep pens I quickly realize that the dirt tracks more like black ice. I cant slowdown, worse yet, I’m accelerating. I scan the slope for an ejection point but I can’t see one. Midway down my line and quickly approaching is a small doglegging chute veering right. I absolutely have to make this turn. Otherwise, I will be washed into, down and over the gnarly cliffs below.

With no escape route, all I can do is hold on and hope this won’t hurt to bad. As I approach my point of destiny, I can feel I am going way to fast. My body stiffens as I brace my self for the inevitable impact ahead. Frantically searching a safe spot to hopefully place my head. As the turn becomes my reality, a new feeling of softer dirt tracks under my tires. This dirt allows me just enough hookup to turn my bike and barely squeeze through the dogleg - unscathed. Now, pure bliss waits. Below me is 600 feet of virgin dirt resembling a steep alpine ski run. Slashing from one side of the run to the other, I’m over come by the feeling of big mountain skiing and continue slay the sh#t out of it.

At the bottom I’m left standing and shaking with pure adrenaline. Staring at the thousand-foot face that I just shredded the crap out of. Thinking to myself, wow! That was definitely one of the coolest things I have ever done on a bike. I turn back at a time sculpted oasis that is the Gobi Desert, when a young Chinese man herding his cows stares at me, surely wondering why on earth I would ride my strange looking bike down a mountain like that? It made me smile.

As I passed him he said something in Chinese, I couldn’t understand him but I said “thank you” and went on my way.

China. Wow! I’ve been looking at pictures of the untamed land for the past few years. I was first made aware of the lands freeride potential from friend Todd Barber. Todd was our logistics guy on the trip. After many anxious conversations, we were finally able to get Specialized and Suunto to help with funding the Gobi Adventure.

We pushed off in the early weeks of October and it turned out to best time of the year to visit. Considering that in the summer it gets up to 60 degrees Celsius with winds that howl like no other and winter temperatures can drop down to minus 40 Celsius, I think we picked the perfect time of the year to be there. No wind, comfortable temperatures and no clouds, we saw just two clouds during our visit and neither was large enough to cast a shadow.

The basic idea was to go to China and continue our endless search for the utmost; all time freeride terrain …and of course - document it. Our crew is Pro rider Cameron McCaul, photographer Blake Jorgensen, Jeremy Grant, Todd Barber, two non-English speaking guides, a Chinese translator who interestingly enough spoke with a British accent and of course myself; Darren Berrecloth.

Everyday our guides would drive us into the desert. They would take us anywhere we asked and at the same time keep us out of trouble. Like the time I started to hike into a potentially amazing zone and out of nowhere, a crazy looking man ran over and started yelling at me. My translator rushed over and promptly told me in his British accent; “the man is saying there was a murder here last night” So, I turned around.

The adventure kicked off with a simple plan; we would all meet outside the arrivals area of the Beijing Airport. Easier said than done. The moment you step off the plane you quickly remember all the past comments and conversations of China and its mass population. Instantly I am surrounded by some 2000 plus people; all scrambling in every direction possible. A scene more remanisant of an ant hill than an airport. As the ants scatter, another set back hits, no hotel address, just a name on a piece of paper, reading - Jade Hotel.

3 hours push by with no signs of any mountain bikers. Frustration sets in and I make my move, I quickly jump in a cab and say “Jade Hotel please”. After a few minutes of charades with the cabby we were off. Ten hotels and two hours of driving later I finally made it to the hotel and quickly establish that this was indeed the spot we had made our reservations at. Both literally, in the form of my overweight baggage, and mentally, a great deal off stress were finally heaved off my shoulders.

We loaded the gear on to a couple of trucks and drove towards the desert. With noses pressed to the glass, huge sculpted mountains appeared on the horizon. Our arrival in the Gobi was nearing. We were all still a little in disbelief and wondering if it was even going to happen. Up to that very last moment, before my tires laid a track on the foreign soil, we still didn’t know if there was any terrain that was even ride-able. The moment I spotted a trail from our moving truck we quickly pulled over and made way for a tight winding trail that would be our first of many descents to come.

As the sun was setting we ventured deeper into the valley. We came across a large mountain; it looked more like an oversized and steep sand dune, but it was dirt, so I had to ride it. I threw my bike on top of the Land Cruiser and directed the driver towards the dune. Also present were a few camels. They gave chase as we raced to its base. I hiked when it became un-drivable. I reached the drop-in point and proceeded to shred down the unfamiliar and friendly dirt slope. The dirt was unlike anything I have ever ridden and left me wondering what would really be possible in this far off land.

The next few days were spent braving the local roads and its occupants. Passing donkeys, the occasional motorcycle with a family stacked on it and trucks that seemed to take pleasure running us off the road. Beyond the road adventures, each day we scoped the landscape for its unique features to ride our bikes down.

One day Cam discovered how much fun the Grey Zones were to fly down, as fast as possible, while leaving a timeless trail of dust only to be interrupted by launching off perfect and naturally placed rollers. On another day I spotted a couple of test lines. They were long and looked to be good for getting a feel for the dirt while prepping the bigger ones that needed attention.

Cam and I hiked up to the top, the whole way up he cursed at me for persuading him to come along. I told him it would be fun since he hadn’t really done this sort of thing on a bike; or skis for that matter. We reached the top and looked over the edge. A stunned Cam said to me “Are you serious?” and I said “Yup, lets giver’” and with a little more scrambling around we readied ourselves for our “test run”. I was the Guinea Pig and dropped in first, the line was fairly controllable and a lot of fun. Cam came ripping down afterwards. He came to a stop and a voice behind a turkey-eating grin said, “Man that just isn’t fair - how much fun coming down is in comparison to hiking up!”

Most of the action was deep in the desert, luckily, lunches were provided by our guides. In a culture know for its bizarre and often endangered (specie) appetite, it was a bit shocking to discover that the guides had a certain taste for SPAM. Most of us had never eaten “the fun Ham - know as SPAM”, including myself. After a few days it kind of became ok, when you were starving. After lunch we would search for an epic spot to milk the evening light. We discovered a road that wound up into the mountains. It made things very easy, literally we able to ride right off the side of the road. Cam found a step-down and a jump to back-flip. Both made for perfect images. It was a treat to watch Cameron in his element and all set in front of the ambience filled backdrops.

After the sun would set, we would make our way back to the hotel. We had come to learn that it was better to not pay attention to the road on the drive back. If you did it was quite frightening. A two-lane highway with no divider that randomly switched in to a four-lanes. Our driver would be passing people while some one else was passing in the opposing traffic. It was scary and we thought for a while that it must be just how it is here. Maybe there are no accidents. No. People die here in cars all the time and we almost saw first hand why. It was 5am and we were driving through town with no traffic. The driver of our other vehicle randomly decided to cut in front of an oncoming car. He was easily doing 90 km/h and only had one brake working, it screeched towards the other car and just missed it.

China was an interesting experience. Out of one eye you can see a businessman driving an Audi to a comfortable job. Out of the other, you might find a farmer and his Donkey bringing his crop of fresh produce into the city. The further away from the city we went, the friendlier the inhabitants became. At times it felt as if the locals of these small villages had never met anyone like us. There was much curiosity in us, as was our own curiosity in them.

The terrain varied as much as the people. The Gobi Desert was soiled with history; ancient ruins of old cities and burial grounds are scattered everywhere. Towering summits and wind-sculpted masterpieces shadow a wild landscape from the busy and overpopulated city sprawls.

The country has much potential for mountain biking. Whether it’s riding cross-country or barreling down the slopes of the Gobi desert. China is a definite must for any adventure traveling mountain biker.

- Darren Berrecloth