Trust the Pull

When you think of Guatemala, you might picture lush jungles, ancient ruins, and incredible, artisan coffee—but what you might not expect is a colorful, tight-knit mountain bike community set against some of the most dramatic terrain you’ve ever seen.

When a rare opportunity landed in our laps to go experience it firsthand, the timing wasn’t exactly ideal. Calendars were full. Deadlines were looming. Real life was very much real-lifing. But what do you do when the opportunity of a lifetime shows up unannounced?

You trust the pull. You say yes. You find your wild.

So this past November, a small but mighty crew headed south, blending long shoot days, jump trains, great food, and plenty of moments that reminded us how bikes have a way of bringing people together—no matter the language, the latitude, or the logistics.

DAY 1

I arrived in Antigua to absolute chaos—in the best way possible. The town was in full celebration for the annual Flower Festival, with massive floral installations filling the streets, fireworks going off overhead, and a huge concert in the middle of town. Everywhere you turned felt like a party. Music, color, energy—it was the kind of welcome that immediately sets the tone for a trip you know is going to be special.

Our first full day kicked off with exploring Antigua’s cobblestone streets before heading to Old Town Outfitters to build our bikes (and make sure they survived the flight). From there, we drove about ten minutes outside the city to Carmona Bike Park.

Carmona is the kind of place you build an entire trip around. With over 3,000 vertical feet of shuttle-accessed trails, a full progression of jump lines, drops, a concrete pump track, and a restaurant and bar at the base, you could spend a week there and barely scratch the surface. Some of the jump lines were well outside my comfort zone, but watching Tony, KaJay, and Jason session them was a treat in itself.

DAY 2

On day two, we headed back to Carmona for more shuttle laps, including the Fuego trail—jumping through coffee fields, snacking on ripe coffee beans straight off the plant, and shooting in the kind of golden light you wish you could bottle. Unreal.

That evening, we drove three winding hours through the mountains to Lake Atitlán and San Juan del Obispo. The roads didn’t exactly make for great sleep, but the mini pies we picked up along the way more than made up for it. We stayed at a beautiful eco-lodge on the lake and woke up to yet another cup of world-class Guatemalan coffee.

DAY 3

We took a boat across Lake Atitlán to Santa Cruz, explored the town, and visited a women-owned and operated weaving cooperative—an experience that felt grounding and inspiring in the middle of such a fast-paced trip. Seeing these women run a thriving textile business was genuinely fascinating. The care, skill, and pride woven into every piece was unmistakable. It felt deeply parallel to Wild Rye in so many ways—women building something of their own, rooted in craft, community, and shared purpose. All over the world, women are pushing to be acknowledged for their abilities and creativity, finding new ways to work together and build sustainable futures through what they make.

After our magical morning on the lake, it was time to ride. Once again, we drove into the mountains, winding higher and higher into the fog. Our afternoon ended with one long trail from the top of the mountain all the way down to the lake—descending from steep, slick-as-snot jungle trails into terraced corn fields and finally into town.

Riding through the narrow, stair-step streets above town was a definite highlight—and also some of the most nerve-wracking riding I’ve ever done. Some of the “streets” were millimeters wider than my handlebars, with tight corners, steep steps, and people around every corner. Totally worth it.

We capped the day with churros, made friends with all the local street dogs, and drove back to Antigua just in time to watch fireworks explode above the massive church as the Flower Festival came to a close.

DAY 4

Our final day was spent checking out a few local trails, winding through old church ruins and bustling street markets. We finished the afternoon back at Carmona with a few last jump laps and well-earned beers, swapping stories and soaking it all in.

More than anything, this trip reinforced something I’ve always believed: bikes are community builders. They’re a universal language. The synergy on this trip wasn’t just from existing friendships; it grew naturally from shared values and a genuine love for this place and its people.

We showed up with a photoshoot to produce, sure—but the work quickly became secondary to something bigger. We cared deeply about sharing Guatemala, celebrating its riding community, and honoring the feeling you get when you explore the world by bike. The kind of feeling that reminds you why you started riding in the first place.

And maybe that’s the throughline in all of it. Sometimes finding your wild isn’t about perfect timing or polished plans. It’s about trusting the pull toward something bigger than your comfort zone. Saying yes before you have it all figured out. This trip was proof that when you lean in—when you follow that quiet tug in your gut—community, connection, and a little bit of magic tend to meet you on the other side.