The first time I met a mountain biker was in the 80s in Durango CO. I was sitting on the porch in front of my room at the Antler Motel. This guy on a goofy fat-tired bike came off a little single track trail that dumped off a hillside onto the sidewalk. He was stoked on endorphins and adrenalin. I got talking to him and he told me all about what a rush mountain biking was. As I watched him head back up that mountain trail, I thought, that's crazy.
Now, I do it.
Sometimes I think I'd like to go back to Durango and look for that trail.
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Religion is a good thing for good people and a bad thing for bad people. --H. Richard Niebuhr