Sure, Seattle’s a pretty good cycling town. It’s got bicycle commuters, über-rich guys on road bikes worth more than cars, Critical Mass, gangs of Cap Hill fixie riders, and nude cyclists in Fremont. But until now the scene just hasn’t been complete. The full-suspension set, the knobby-wheeled ones who formerly had to pursue adventure by first driving out to the backcountry, finally have a home in the city. That home is under Interstate 5. Roughriders can show their friends how cool they are by crashing off some wicked jump. And of course, nothing beats the impromptu entertainment of seeing completely wipe out. JOSHUA LYNCH
