…like mountain biking.
Where I never really thought of biking as anything more than a faster way to get to my grandma’s house, my husband has been a biker for most of his life. When he was younger he did a lot of BMX. I think he was pretty good at it, he certaintly likes hopping around on his bike enough.
Almost 2 years ago he began mountain biking with a group of friends. It wasn’t long before he had his own bike and began talking about how he would like me to go out and ride with him. Ha. Like I had any desire to go flying down some steep ravine, only slowing to jump over fallen trees or ride up “skinnies”, whatever that meant. Nope, I was content to sit home and do, well, anything else, thanks.
Until one day I decided that, you know, it would be nice to spend more time outside, and the park system here in Raleigh is pretty good, and well, maybe I’m a bit competitive and was looking to try something new (cause starting a running program, totally wasn’t enough?). Ok, fine, let’s go get me a bike.
After talking to a couple of shops in the area, we happened upon a tent sale at the Bicycle Chain. A sale? Sign me up. I still wasn’t completely sold on this whole mountain biking idea, but the shop has a short singletrack out back and let me go for a spin. (They also put Patrick on a super expensive full suspension bike, those sneaky dogs.) It was probably a much easier trail than anything out there in the real world, but it was FUN. I kinda wanted to go again.
Needless to say, we bought the bike, a spiffy helmet, and were on our way.
As soon as we got out the door, Patrick turns to me and says, “Welcome to the hell that is mountain biking, where your components are never good enough, you never ride well enough, and you always want to upgrade your bike, at least a little bit.”
Should be a fun ride…