Tuesday night my coach gave me the workout instructions to go ride my mountain bike for an hour and a half. I don’t know exactly how long it has been since I have ridden the Giant Trance. It must have been sometime late last fall. The trail was calling, but exactly what it was saying I wasn’t so sure.
The ride is now history and I am reminded of why I like (love would be too strong) and dislike (hate would be too strong) mountain biking. Now, before my knobby tire loving friends cry foul, let me explain. Rest assured that the like is stronger than the dislike.
It was the mountain bike that got me interested in riding again as an adult. I won’t tell the story again, but the short of it is that I attempted to take a Huffy bike from Walmart out on an actual trail. I ended up leaving part of me out there and pretty much crushed the bike.
That was when I met the guys as Sunshine Cycle Shop. They convinced me that if I wanted to ride that kind of trail, I needed a bike that could handle it. They set up up with a solid hard tail and invited me on some of their group rides.
The above photo shows some of the first trail I remember seeing back in those days. Back then, mountain bikers weren’t that welcome in the park. We used to park along a public road that ran along the back of the park and then sneak in to ride the trails. As a novice, it was an experience in horror! These guys would go bombing through those trails and I just knew I was going to die wrapped around some tree!
I much rather enjoyed riding by myself. It meant I didn’t have to keep up with faster riders and I didn’t have to expose myself as a wimp scared to ride over this or that obstacle. For a lot of mountain bike riders, they love to go downhill. Me? I prefer to see if I can climb the trails they love to “bomb.”
The trails gave me both aspects of the experience. I was loving it as my heart pounded and my legs screamed as I climbed the roots up the trail. Then I found my heart in my mouth as I bounced down those same roots and found myself trying to keep my rear wheel from deciding to beat the front one down to the bottom. A daredevil I am not.
What I enjoyed more than climbing and much more than descending was swooping my way along the sections of the trail that were well groomed and didn’t make my hands itch because of the vibration from the rocks. There was enough of that type of trail to put a big grin on my face. Yeah, I was loving that part.
All too soon I saw the sun dip below a nearby ridge. It was time to get back. Once the light began to fade I would lose my sense of depth and on a root invested stair drop that could be dangerous.
I returned home to find the family just about ready to sit down for dinner. It reminded me of another reason why I stopped riding the mountain bike. Time is very valuable. The issue with the mountain bike is that it takes more time to get to a place where you can actually ride. The road bike allows me to get a workout in the same amount of ride time, but without the time spent getting to the trails.
I’m sure I’ll be spending some more time on the mountain bike this fall. Maybe I’ll even find myself going back into my past and hooking up with a group ride. I’m sure I will want to get in a couple of night rides.
As I was riding out of the Fire Road Trail, I came upon a group of 15 or so riders. I recognized the faces of almost everyone of them — a number were my teammates. This morning I learned one of those riders had a pretty hard fall.
It again brought to mind those first days hanging on for dear life behind the Sunshine boys. Wow, a lot has changed since then… and a lot remains the same.
