Here We Go

 

Here we go. I say that to myself a lot. Training in Montana during the long winter month’s everybody’s got that one thing they say to themselves that gets them out the door into the cold, the snow, and the wind. Mine's "here we go". I say it as I take that pivotal first pedal stroke, you know, the one that happens after you realize what a long hard day it's going to be, but before you remember how much you love pedaling your bike. That one pedal stroke you've been thinking about all day, that you've been thinking how, if you're lucky, it'll multiply once, twice, ten times over, hopefully cranking you away to your final destination: that smooth, buffed ribbon of single track. Excuse me, it's not nearly the "final" destination, but in a way, I guess it is. In a way it's the final destination that matters. We mountain bikers don't measure our rides in watts and kilometers, but only if those watts are the watts that you use to rip into the next corner, and only if those kilometers are the K's you use to get to up the road to the next trail head.

 

The early base miles are as beautiful as
they are cold.

However, all that said, it's not true. To fully enjoy those perfect days on the mountain, those days the air is crisp and clean and the Dawn dish soap flavored water is worth more than gold, you need to step in the much too tight, Italian made shoes of our more aerodynamic brethren. The road calls. It doesn't matter to what degree you cycle, the road is the integral link in what we do and how we get better at what we do. I've spent the last few months on the road, starting the season barely able to wrap my head around an hour and a half ride, progressing to regular three to four hour rides. Do I enjoy those hours spent out there? I guess I could say for the most part I enjoy the feeling of preparation they give me. The feeling of how much better I'm going to be when I finish this one ride, and the one after that and the one after that. Every once in a while, though, I get one of those days. One of those days where the sun is shining, the wind is blowing just enough to make me work for my dinner, and those days where it all makes sense. Why I do this crazy sport, and, more importantly, why I love it just so much.

 

Being a mountain biker is hard work. There is so much to always think about. You have to climb like a roadie, descend like a downhiller, and finesse like a trials rider, but in the end that's what makes me love it. The challenge of it all is something that you can never perfect, but can hope for those days where you feel like you have. These are the up's and downs, the roller coaster ride that is completive mountain biking. These are the Trails and Tribulations that make you just throw that leg over, saddle up, and head out to your future. Watch out. Here we go and here we come.