Spring brings hope and hero dirt, and all praise to whoever you praise, that the dreamiest riding season is right around the corner. March to May (the Holy Trinity of trail months as I like to think of it) is an awesome time to ride, not least because the ground is sucked of excess moisture on a daily basis, and hungry plants enjoy a first flush of photosynthesis while we get our first flush of speed, adrenaline and grip after a winter of slipping, sliding and trudging about.

Even before the clocks change, British bikers’ washing machine filters breathe a sigh of relief and sneak out the back for a fag while trails firm up nicely, and all those tedious ruts slashed by wet e-bike laps magically disintegrate into loamy goodness. And with the sun out and proud, it’s all of a sudden warm enough to get some pale limbs out and shed those clammy layers and crinkly fabrics.

Another factor contributing to the magic before high summer’s heat, humidity and bugs is that vegetation hasn’t grown to the point you can’t see exactly where you’re going. This extra vision allows for higher (reckless, thrill-of-the-new) speeds with less water streaming in your eyes to spoil the view than in frigid winter, too.

Until late May, forget about bracken tangling wheels, cranks and handlebars, or blackberry brambles dragging across ungloved knuckles and drawing raspberry blood. Impenetrable leaves don’t obscure little edges and obstacles either, like later on in summer, and once these start to die off in autumn, trails become camouflaged in military colours and damper and slower again than spring’s halcyon days.

It’s a fleeting and beautiful window of time, and you’d better make the most of it. Trace the woods as snowdrops bloom and wilt, and trails literally turn from dark to light under your tyres. Watch as white snowdrops get swallowed up by stinky wild garlic lining forest floors before disappearing as quickly as they came.

Get out there. Pick some, eat some or just inhale it all in before it ends heartbreakingly too soon. Because by the time lilac bluebells wither and die, random vegetation rules the roost and woods dance in a humid, clammy atmosphere that’s more nightclub than mountain top. And, crucially, we can’t see anymore exactly where front shoulder knobs are pointing, peeling perfect tread-sized cubes of earth.

I reckon you can give nature a hand in prolonging the dream by treating trails right and tickling up local tracks in preparation, though. Experienced or not, anyone can make more of a difference than you’d think, even without any tools or preparation.

Every winter, even really well-made trails get hammered, so considerate riders like our good selves can choose to use feet, hands and a handy stick to kick mud and dark months into touch. And, if you’ve never trail built before or feel a bit intimidated messing with someone else’s handiwork, take it from me, no trailbuilder in the land will resent you implementing a few of these modest tips.

The basic gist of looking after any MTB trail is as simple as helping get water or debris off to halt erosion and ruts, so clearing a bit of mud, sticks and mulch goes a long way to help trails dry faster and deliver extra grip and speed. Nothing more than shoe soles is needed; a quick sideways scrape can brush off trail skins that get mushy in places or clear silty debris where it’s run off into hollows

How many of us have guiltily smashed through a deep puddle in a berm pocket without stopping to? A few extra seconds is all it takes to push back up and experience the deep satisfaction of grabbing a nearby stick and popping open a blocked drain. I guarantee the hypnotic gurgling sound of emptying will make your day and everyone else’s ride that little bit sweeter.

Clearing congested leaf litter, flattening rogue vegetation that impinges vision, freeing up jammed drainage and kicking mud out of holes all combine to have a big effect. Especially if more of us make it a habit. Don’t get me started either on the bleedin’ obvious task of picking up small branches that have blown onto the track rather than riding straight over them. Why is it always someone else’s problem?

This isn’t the serious work of hacking out rows of braking bumps with a mattock or rebuilding every pitted berm around (although riders will appreciate that too, so long as you know what you’re doing); more a call to consider joining those already paying dues with a few minutes of thoughtful trail attention to help things tick over nicely.

It’s not only tyres that will appreciate the effort. A further bonus of an occasional fettle is the feel-good factor of serving up karmic benefit for the local riding community and also forcing a natural pause in nature to breathe in another side of the forest. Little moments of quiet concentration play so nicely with the hectic rhythms of riding and (cliché alert) connect us more to the terrain and the sport we love.

Yep, I’m well aware all this ‘peaceful/mindful’ stuff is at risk of coming over more preachy and soppier than the all-action, trail-slaying, mountain biking hero image we’ve been sold, but with spring’s sunlight on my shoulders, what the heck; I’m here for it.

This is a shout-out for smug feelings rooted in lifting a hand for the more acceptable side of grooming and celebrating the best time of the year, high-fiving all the trailbuilding heroes with some extra TLC of our own. Then, at least when the weather inevitably pisses on our parade at some point, we’ve done our best to make sure this year’s springtime primetime rides are the best ever.