How a Mountain Bike Skills Clinic at Crested Butte Bike Park Changed My Confidence
- 4 days ago
- 4 min read
The bike park had always intimidated me. It felt fast, technical, and honestly, like a space I wasn't sure I belonged in.
There's a funny thing about mountain biking: sometimes the biggest obstacle isn't the trail in front of you, it's the story you've been telling yourself. For me, that story sounded something like; "maybe I'm not ready for this".Â
I've been riding mountain bikes for a couple years now, mostly on cross-country trails around Crested Butte. I love long climbs, wildflowers lining the singletrack, and the feeling of earning every descent. But downhill riding was different. The bike park had always intimidated me. It felt fast, technical, and honestly, like a space I wasn't sure I belonged in. Mountain biking has also traditionally been a male-dominated sport, and as a woman who's mostly taught herself through trial and error, it can be easy to feel like everyone else already knows what they're doing. I often found myself wondering if I was skilled enough, experienced enough, or "good enough" to sign up for a downhill clinic at all. Deep down, I knew there was a gap between getting down the trail and actually riding with confidence. When I heard about VNTRbirds, I immediately thought, that sounds amazing. Then, almost as quickly, I thought, maybe next year.
Receiving a scholarship changed everything. It removed a financial barrier, but more importantly, it gave me the little push I needed to say yes to an experience I might have talked myself out of otherwise. Looking back now, I'm incredibly grateful I did.
From the moment I arrived, I realized this wasn't about proving yourself. It was about learning. Every woman there came with different experiences, different strengths, and different fears. Some had spent lots of time in bike parks, while others (like me) were stepping into downhill riding with plenty of nerves. There was never an expectation to be fearless or perfect. Instead, there was encouragement, patience, and a shared understanding that everyone starts somewhere. For the first time, I felt like I was learning in a space built to empower women rather than intimidate them. Instead of worrying about holding people back or asking "stupid" questions, I felt comfortable being a beginner. That alone was incredibly refreshing.
The coaches somehow knew exactly when to challenge us and when to remind us to trust ourselves. Instead of simply telling us what to do, they explained why different techniques mattered. Suddenly, body position, braking, cornering, line choice, and looking ahead all started to click. Skills that once felt complicated became approachable because someone took the time to break them down.
One of my favorite parts of the weekend wasn't necessarily riding the biggest feature or making it down the fastest trail. It was watching everyone celebrate each other's victories. Every successful rock garden, every cleaned corner, every feature someone had been afraid to ride suddenly became something the whole group cheered for. Progress wasn't measured against anyone else. It was measured against where you started that morning. That kind of support is rare and reminded me that mountain biking isn't just about riding bikes. It's about exploring beautiful places, challenging yourself, laughing after mistakes, celebrating small wins, and sharing those moments with people who understand exactly why finally making it through one section of trail can feel like such a huge accomplishment.
By the end of the clinic, I realized my biggest takeaway wasn't a specific technique, although I learned plenty of those. It was confidence. Not the kind that makes you believe you'll never crash or never feel scared again, but the kind that reminds you you're capable of learning difficult things. I left understanding how to approach technical terrain with intention instead of panic. I knew how to position my body more effectively, brake with more control, and trust both my bike and me. Most importantly, I stopped feeling like someone who was just surviving the trail. I started feeling like someone who actually belonged there. That confidence has followed me after the clinic ended. Every ride since then has felt a little less intimidating because I have tools I didn't have before. Instead of avoiding certain features, I find myself slowing down, remembering what I learned, and giving them a real chance. I realized growth doesn't happen all at once. Sometimes it happens one corner, one rock roll, or one small moment of courage at a time.
If you're thinking about signing up for a VNTRbirds clinic, here's what I'd tell you:
Don't wait until you feel "good enough." The clinic isn't for riders who already know everything. It's for riders who are excited to learn. If you've ever looked at the bike park or trail and thought, I'm not sure I belong there, you're exactly the kind of rider this clinic is for. Whether you've been mountain biking for years or you're just starting to explore downhill riding, you'll find yourself surrounded by women who genuinely want to see you succeed. You'll learn from incredible coaches who meet you where you are, and you'll probably surprise yourself with what you're capable of by the end of the weekend.
I almost let self-doubt convince me not to go. Instead, I left with new skills, new excitement, and new friends who reminded me that mountain biking doesn't have to be intimidating or exclusive. It can be welcoming, empowering, and incredibly fun. Sometimes all it takes is saying yes to the opportunity that's been waiting for you.
For me, that opportunity was VNTRbirds in Crested Butte.
And I'd say yes again in a heartbeat.
Katie Henderson is a photographer based in Crested Butte, Colorado. When she’s not behind the camera, she’s usually exploring a new trail, running through the mountains, or getting herself into (and out of) trouble on a mountain bike.
She’s passionate about capturing adventures and encouraging others to step outside their comfort zone in the outdoors.
Instagram handle: @itskatiejanee