Communing with the Whistling Pigs: Interlude in Entiat

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Before the weekend’s rains hit, Jim Lyon and I took a day to do some classic high-country mountain biking, the kind everyone did before Whistler, North Shore and Galby changed the mountain-bike scene. We must have run across a dozen marmots (whistling pigs) in the meadows, waddling languidly around and engaging in their high-pitched, eerie conversation. Seven thousand feet up the ridge, the peaks were majestic, the wildflowers were soothing, the meadows were contemplative and everything was oh so quiet. It was a different riding experience than you get at the parks, resulting in a different mountain biking video than you usually see. (For full screen mode, click on permalink.)



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