La Parva is a ski resort about an hour outside of Santiago and, at the moment, it is holding the title of My-Favorite-Place-in-Chile. A little ski town, perched high up in the Andes at almost 9,000 feet, and surrounded by nothing but rock and soaring, snow-capped peaks, La Parva is nothing short of epic (and pretty much the last place you’d want to be in event of an earthquake). The road up to La Parva is equally epic, with 39 switchback curves. Yes, 39. And that doesn’t count 90 degree turns, only full 180 degree switchbacks. I know because they’re numbered and I’ve now driven all 39 of them approximately 6 times in the past week. (And I didn’t throw up once! Win!)

photo cred: Sean Leader

Of course, I’m biased, but I really believe the only way to experience this place is on a mountain bike. However, I’m not going to lie–the trails here are really, really difficult. I have bruises and scrapes on pretty much every inch of my legs to prove it. An outside observer might think that, instead of doing a mountain bike race on Saturday, I spent the weekend cage fighting with rabid squirrels. I would post a picture, but I really don’t want to get Macky arrested for domestic abuse.

Instead, enjoy this video of Sean crashing spectacularly on a bunch of pointy rocks: (if you’re into that kind of thing, which if you’re a mountain biker you obviously are, because I know we all LIVE to watch other people eat it.)

As you can see, these trails are loose, rocky and treacherous. As our Chilean friends put it, “there is no such thing as a soft fall at La Parva.” The climbs are all hike-a-bike. Or, um, drag-a-bike, if you’re me. There is nothing easy about riding here. Nothing easy at all. And in fact, after our first ride, I was pretty convinced there was nothing FUN about riding here. I may or may not have cried multiple times on one descent. But then, this weekend, something clicked. I stopped thinking about my bruises and started looking at the views. Which are fucking spectacular.

Mountain biking can be a frustrating sport, especially when you’re riding trails that are way different than anything you are used to (and arguably far beyond your ability level). But, in the end, it’s always worth it because you end up in some pretty special places you never would have gotten to otherwise. And at the end of the day, you can count your bruises and scratches and feel really damn accomplished, even if you did happen to get dead last in your first ever pro enduro race (um, hypothetically, cough cough).

What do you think? Would you ride here? How do you turn frustration into a sense of accomplishment?