Issue link: http://trailridermagazine.uberflip.com/i/1545069
June 2026 Kaleb Schubert Craig Jones Kaleb Schubert Craig Jones banked turns. Riders appear as they crest an air me camelback before vanishing into the depths of the following ravine. The designer of this loop made the best of the pale e provided by nature in cra ing this track, and supplemented it with man-made obstacles in all the right places. Admi edly, the massive uphills and blind jumps are ini ally in m- ida ng, but once you've learned the track and its flow, things become quite a thrill. Dave Light's Rac- ing Stories on YouTube, the "Larry Huffman" of the Mid-Atlan c, compared the track favorably with the famed Budds Creek na onal track in Maryland. That is high praise if you've laid eyes upon, or had the pleasure of roos ng around, that historic venue. As you make your way to the exit, you realize that praise fits just right. Next, we find ourselves in the water a rac on sec on of the park. We didn't expect to be on a water ride, only that isn't totally true. If you've ever been to Su on Sta on in the past or simply read about a Su on Sta on event in past issues of this fine magazine, you know it has absolutely earned its "Soggy Sta on" nickname. Despite best wishes, hopes, prayers, date changes, and who knows what other voodoo remedies, it rains…always. And it rained, like always, star ng Friday a ernoon and rather steadily through the evening and most of Saturday's motocross ac on. The lay of the land is familiar by now a er several years of Dale and Lori Reynolds graciously hos ng the MA family at their Summerville home. The MX track is quite a cool lay- out using an off-camber grass field with wide twist- ing lanes cut up and down the hills and through the woods on either side. Saturday's prac ce started out wet, obviously, but with a whiff of trac on remaining as the course had yet to be churned up too deeply. With a decent turnout and fourteen races lined up in each moto, along with con nuing precipita on, the constant barrage of spinning res searching for any measurable grip was working the soil over like a twelve-bo om plow. What was once grass field turned into eight inches of sloppy topsoil/grass paste on top of a hard base of clay that felt more like the surface of a wet bar of Dove soap. By the double-digit races in moto one, the uphill right off the start was a Slip'N'Slide with bikes dancing hither and yon in an a empt to clear the top only to descend and try again on the next hill. Primo line selec on and a healthy shot of thro le at the right place could get you sailing up, but this was the excep on more than the norm. Partway through moto two, these hills