For the most part it's awesome.
But there's a gnarly section where I always hope and pray that I pick and commit to the right line, and that my bike will remain steady and not be betrayed by a loose rock or a sneaky rut, and that I roll down the path on my bike and not off it. This last ride? The biking gods did not favor me so much. The spill wasn't nasty - and I was able to disengage from the bike before it did a little tumble to the side of the path.
I pick myself up, shake off the dirt, put Becky the bike upright, and ride again.
Such is life on a mountain bike.
Such is life.