By Adam Wylie

Every year on a beautiful Sunday afternoon in mid-October in the Colorado mountains, the Colorado High School Cycling League hosts an End of an Era. Those of us that have been around a while have witnessed these true stories many times, and while they often sound something like what you’ll find below, each is special and unique.

The Era mostly started four years ago when a high school freshman finally agreed to join their school’s mountain bike team after his buddies convinced him. For him, it was more about hanging out with friends than about mountain biking. I mean, he liked mountain biking, but he much preferred gondolas and gravity over the gruel of the granny gear grinds. By the end of that first season, he started to see where those climbs could get him, and while getting to the top was obvious, getting closer to a new group of friends and coaches was an unexpected surprise. He did not make the cut for states but he was excited to hitch a ride with his friend’s family. He had a great weekend at one of the most spectacular MTB events there is, and told himself that he’d work hard to get into states the next year.

In his second year, his parents started showing up more, surprised that their son was actually getting into this biking thing after avoiding team sports or pretty much anything else they had tried. He achieved his goal for the season, made it to states, and earned his team’s “most improved” award. His parents now saw the glimmers of magic that the league sprinkles on everyone that comes near it.

He struggled in his junior year with the typical pressure of adolescence, the perils and freedoms of a driver’s license, the words “grades” and “college”, and the ticking clock of graduation that at once could not get here fast enough and should probably stay away forever given how scary the other side looked. Those practices were his outlet for that stress and frustration, but also his place of belonging where his coaches didn’t have any expectations for him other than be a good person. All he had to do was be there and ride his bike and they met him with smiling support and encouragement.

As he entered his last high school fall and final mountain bike season, he twist-tied on his yellow legacy plate and looked forward to getting that sweet buckle. He laughed at what people do for a belt buckle — and laughed at himself.

He crossed the finish line at states into roaring hugs and high fives from every one of his teammates and coaches. His parents waited, in cheap faux disco outfits, awkwardly, like they do near a mass of sweaty teenage stink and dust, with knots in their stomachs and joyful tears of pride in their eyes, to hug their little boy in his mountain bike kit one more time. It was their End of an Era.

On that same day, a 6th grade little sister in full pink disco glory watched in amazement as a varsity girl pedaled so fast she was only a blur of speed and pink tutu, with a streak of French braid. She joined the devo team as soon as she could. 6 years later, after persevering through her own version of challenges and yet thriving with her community of mountain bikers, it was her and her family’s End of an Era.

Also on that same day, a 6-year coach finished his duties after the last race’s final riders, including their own legacy senior, were swarmed by families and teammates. He walked very slowly back to the pit zone tent, pausing often to watch and listen to the joyful dusty chaos all around them, feeling every step and every breath, favorite new cowbell in hand, and had a rare and fleeting moment of all-encompassing content and satisfaction. It was not bittersweet: It was all sweet with no bitter. He felt fulfilled and happy and appreciated. It was perfect. It was the End of an Era. Now it was someone else’s turn.

Every year on that same day, fanning out all around the edges of that finish chute and between haphazardly tossed bikes, perhaps hundreds of the most important Eras in those racers, parents, grandparents, and coaches’ lives end. But it’s just purely sweet. While these Eras end there on that field, they never disappear. They live on in our hearts and show up when life challenges us or when we get the chance to help someone the way we were helped while part of the League. The way those Eras made us feel lives with us forever.

Yesterday, exhausted after three days and 74,439 steps of race crewing, the memories and emotions of my last day as coach rushed back as we balled up the final tape from the venue. It was once again a simple patch of grass that just an hour earlier had been the very center of belonging, friendship, pride, possibilities, and perfection.

It was the End of an Era … and only the start of so many more.

Adam Wylie started coaching with the Compass Team when his son joined as a Freshman in 2018 and filled the obligatory new coach sweep role. He became team director and eventually head coach, finishing up after his daughter’s senior year in 2023. He loves what the league has done for his kids and thousands of other student athletes, so had to come back for more good vibes and is now in his third season on the race crew, soaking up the FUN every other fall weekend.