My trip to the dark side...
:)
(Not sure if this should go in here or Adventure Stories, but I'll put it here anyway)
Today I went mountain biking. it's not my first time. But it was the first time I was actually on a 'real mountain bike'.
A few years ago I dabbled in Mountain biking with a guy I was dating at the time, on the trails in Wissahickon park. I rode my little comfort bike/trail bike from when I was growing up. It was 1) much too small for me and 2) probably bought at some store like Walmart or Target and so not a quality piece of equipment.
I rode it to pieces. Literally. The seat came loose one day and would slide up and down, tilting fore and aft randomly (it could not be tightened, screw was stripped or something). Then the handlebars started shifting and coming off. I knew it was over then. I rode that bike harder than it had ever been intended.
I don't remember much about mountain biking back then, other than that I had to push my bike up alot of hills, and the downhills were scary.
Today I decided to join some friends that were going to a park a short distance from where I live, Marsh Creek. They made the ride sound more entry level, and instead of repeating the same mistake twice and taking (another) crappy trial bike that I had gotten for free on a ride it wasn't intended for, I decided to rent a mountain bike.
For a minor fee, I got an entry level mountain bike to play with for the day.
The day was overcast and chilly, 50 degree temps with a call of thunder-showers later in the day. We were starting the ride at 4 and planned to ride until 6 or 6:30 I suppose.
The first thing I noticed when I got on the bike was the different feel. It felt heavier, obviously, than my road bike. But it felt alive, whereas my crappy hunk o' steel trail bike felt like dead weight. This thing moved with me. Bounced when I suddenly weighted the pedals. Yes, it was a hardtail and so didn't much dampen the shock of rocks and sticks, but there were front shocks which was a feeling I had never experienced on a bike.
The first few moments of the ride were an eye opener. I felt like I was clipped in, forgetting that I was on platforms and my feet would frequently cut loose of the pedals (a problem I was having all night). I would shift and they would pop off. I would hit a rock or a stump and they would pop off and I would curse and try to get them back on in the right position. Even though I was by no means a skilled mtb'er, I longed for my clipless pedals and their feeling of security, even if it meant that when I lost balance and fell, I'd be attached to the bike (half the time I couldn't react fast enough to get untangled, anyway..)
I even still tended to go through the 'unclipping' motion when I would stop. It's amazing how you get so used to having your feet attached to a huge piece of metal!
Anyway, the first climb was hard. It was long, and dirt studded with rocks. We have alot of rocks in Pennsylvania. Rocks, thorn bushes, and mud. Lots and lots of mud. The name of the park kinda suggested that anyway.
But the first climb was hell. I was heaving and panting up it, my eyes almost crossing with the effort. I was probably in the wrong gear. I didn't care, just wanted to get to the top. Then it was a short downhill followed by another rocky, root-lined climb. It was like my own particular version of hell. One long uphill followed by a short downhill, then another steep uphill that I couldn't get any momentum on (mostly because I couldn't steer my way between trees and rocks and roots!)
I was frustrated, but it was fun! Don't get me wrong.
i sucked. I mean, I majorly sucked. I fell over roots, rocks, pebbles, mud puddles. Once my left pedal hit a steep grassy hill and I toppled over onto the hill. Luckily it was soft and there were no rocks to greet my thigh as I fell. Once I was crossing a rickety wood bridge over some mud and made the mistake of looking down at the mud. I promptly toppled over into it. I had to push my bike up at least three hills (well, half of each of those hills) but sometimes only because I lost my momentum coming up on one of the other slower riders in the group and had to dismount or fall.
I began to remember the technique of weight-shifting, the sitting back on the saddle (my favorite part, once I remembered it) for a downhill section, a quick front-weighting to get over a small obstacle. The pulling and pushing on the handlebars to maneuver around things. The shifting was... well, a little better I guess.
I still couldn't figure out the steering thing. it's like skiing, and why I'm not so good at tree-skiing. I look at my obstacles. I say, 'oh man look at that rock, I should go around that!' but because my eyes are on the rock, I go right into the rock. i couldn't get the habit of keeping my eyes ahead of me on the trail, on my path or line, and not on the things I had to maneuver around at my feet.
Also, I would hit roots or tree branches on the ground, manage to get my front tire over them, but then would get my pedal caught on it, bringing me to a stop.
On the ride back it started to rain. One of the cables on my bike stretched out alot (probably because whenever I would try and get off my bike my foot would catch it and stretch it out) so the bike wouldn't get out of the small ring up front. It rained harder, and we churned up gravel hills to the car. Finally got to the car, ended the ride with a quick tire-rinse in the lake, and headed off to dinner.
It was a good night, in general, and perhaps I'll go mountain biking some more in the future, but I don't know if it'll become my main thing!
I may have some pictures in the future, but don't have them on hand yet.
K.
