In a typical summer, I can be found anywhere..... except Colorado. Trekking in Asia, climbing snowy slopes in Washington, scaling rock walls in Canada; it seems my singular purpose was to leave the very place I'd chosen to call Home.
This is the year I decided to actually be a resident of Colorado, and not just for tax purposes. Being here for the summer months has provided me an opportunity to put down some roots, hike with the ladies, swing on tire swings, and enjoy new activities that engage its full-time residents.
So, ever been mountain biking? It's more of an assumption than a question with folks around here. People have quivers of bikes like they have quivers of skis.
Now truth be told, I'm not a total stranger to biking. Long before I moved to Colorado, I came here in the summers to ride my bike. I spent two days in a car with a bike strapped to the back to ride in the very hills I live in now! Maybe not the best example of irony ever, but I think it's on the podium somewhere.
Back in the day, I rode the lifts at the Summit County resorts, sped through wildflowers in Crested Butte, and I even explored this corner of the state on my way out to the slickrock of Utah. I had a dining room painted a brilliant green, that we called Colorado. I also had a bedroom called Moab... you can guess the color.
I was, by many definitions, a mountain biker.
But somewhere along the line, I got away from it all. As my life took twists and turns, it led me to new pursuits and away from those summer vacations in Colorado.
So after four winters in Colorado and not an inch of singletrack in my wake, I gave my mountain bike to the neighbors thinking my 13" frame would be good for their tweeners until they outgrew it.
I suppose Murphy's Law dictates what happened next.... that the very next summer I would be here amongst the mountain biking elite. As the days grew too warm for rock climbing in the sun and my partners scattered across the country, it seemed worth a try.
Some days you feel your age? I never thought I'd be old enough to say, 'it's been 15 years since I've been on a mountain bike.' But there it is. Like the DOB on your driver's licence, unavoidable.
Showing my age also came through with the bikes themselves. Brakes are different, wheels are different, shocks - um... well, shocks exist, and fancy bikes even come with a brain! Yes, my old bike did not have a single shock, front or rear. That's what you get when you buy a 'mountain' bike in the flatlands of Chicago.
My guess is it'd be like getting back to climbing after cams came on the scene, or maybe like discovering shaped skis. Anyway, I digress. Let's just say I have some catching up to do.
So what am I learning?
- It's so much fun to embrace being a beginner.
I learned a long time ago that Satisfaction = Expectations - Reality. While that applies anywhere, it is a required mindset when you head out on the trail with Adventure Racers, single speeders, and a work-hard-play-harder crew. With expectations so low that any trip that ends back at the car is a success, it's easy to have a good day. - Speed is your friend. Until it's not.
Let's just say after a few encouraging days out, I got a little cocky. In one 24-hour period, I experienced over the handle bars, bike-passenger separation in mid-air, no-no-no-no-no-no I can't pull this drop off, and the slow fall. Just for the record, the slow fall was my least favorite. - Every sport has it's own language.
Getting called out for my 'cat 6 tatoo' (i.e., gumby, beginner, newbie) was only made funnier by the fact that I had no idea what it meant. And conversely, climbing references (jokes about french freeing the trail by grabbing trees) might be funny, yet they are lost on a non-climbing audience. As a 'participant observer' on the trail, it was much easier to notice the cryptic language and how the syntax itself binds its participants together. - While each sport has unique qualities, there is more that ties them together than makes them different.
I fully expect my days on a mountain bike, re-learning to embrace the flow, the feeling of letting go, and speed (caveat: see lesson #1) to translate to the slopes this winter. And I believe the 'go-get-it' feeling of committing to a stretch of trail will help me continue to think UP on the rock. Recognizing that my new biking humor will not translate, I'll have to leave the stand-up to Elena Kagan. - Wear your helmet.
So I'm a beginner who is exploring my limits... again. Why not take simple precautions? I think we've covered this one before as it relates to climbing. All of us know someone who would be better off today if they'd taken an extra moment to consider the potential consequences of their actions. Think of that loved one next time just before you rack up, click in, or pick up that paddle and do the thing you wish they'd done.
It took me a few weekends to pick out a new bike.... complete with shocks and a brain. I justified my extravagant purchase with the home buyer tax credit that it looks like I will NOT be receiving, but I'll save my bitch session about that for another day.
It's not just the biking... did I mention fun on a tire swing? After so many summers running away, my heart feels full right here in the San Juans.
