We were craving it: fresh ribbons of single track, grinding climbs, white-knuckle descents, solitude, dirt. Four friends, four loaded bikes (rush-packed, survival-style), vague plan, limited time. The consensus was to leave it wide open and see where the trail might lead in a condensed time frame. Not a month. It wasn’t even a week. Just a quick-and-dirty overnight, and we found exactly what we were after, just beyond the perimeter of Crested Butte’s famous must-ride trails. The time we had turned out to be time enough for the fix we needed. That is, until next time.