In the general cycling forum, I was complaining about the mountain bike forum losing its soul. There are endless posts about equipment and technique. But where are our stories? Where's our reason for doing this? Where's the fun?!
Here's my challenge: Write something about riding. Not about your bike. Write about "the ride", about what you see, about why you risk scraps and bruises and major organ failure, just to get one more afternoon. Write about what makes you soar...or sore. Give me passion.
I'll go first.
I blasted out of the trees and lined up for the trail that has the downed log. Crap! There’s a couple of dog walkers just going down the trail. I guess I make the jog up to the next entrance. I whipped through the trees like I’ve done a thousand times before. Dodge left, dodge right, duck…it’s an old dance. I dropped down into the bog, luckily it’s been dry so there wasn’t any mud.
Now I was on to the flat part where I could fly! Down along the river, through a couple of trees and into the gully. Hey! “There hasn’t been wire on that tree before”, I thought as I dodged left to avoid the other wired tree on the right. That one has always had wire on it to keep the beaver from eating it. “You know, I’m a little close to it, wonder if I’m going to…” I thought just as my handlebar went into the wire. As the bike pulled to the left, tangled in the wire, I knew I was going down and I was going down hard! Automatically I relaxed to take the impact but it never came!
Demonstrating Newton’s principles of motion, the bike, acted upon by a force, went with the wire. The bulk of the mass in motion (me) continued in a straight line until acted upon by another force, the top tube…under the knee… and the pedal to which I was firmly attached. And I was just left hanging there. Didn’t touch the ground. Just hanging off my bike like I was riding it sidesaddle but at an absolute dead stop.
With the dog walkers snickering. I think the dog was even grinning.