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Posts tagged ‘Mountain Biking’

Mar 17

head over heels

rocky single track in the sunset

A few years ago now, I wrote a column called Chain of Fools for Mountain Flyer Magazine. In this edition, the fool meets some new friends and makes the best possible first impression. This story ran in Mountain Flyer, Issue 76.

We meet at the trailhead early, but not too early. Waiting for the stragglers to arrive, there’s a lot of looking at bikes and talking about tires and toying with suspension. I’m the new girl. I try not to be nervous. I don’t know this crew yet, but I do know they ride mountain bikes just like I do. Bikes. It’s just bikes.

The ride begins with a climb. Is it better to climb first or climb home? Eat your vegetables, then you can have dessert: That’s what my mom always says. My inner whiner wants dessert both now and later. There is no too much when it comes to the good things in life like long descents and frosted donuts.

We string out on the climb and happy not to be last, I settle somewhere in the middle. The dirt changes with the elevation as the soil’s minerals stain each layer a different hue. Eventually, I will come to learn the sequence so well that I can count down each climb. But that’s for the future. Today it’s all new to me. The climb ends sooner than I expect, which boosts my confidence.

At first, I don’t see it. The descent drops abruptly off the edge of the fire road and makes a hard right turn. The fall line looks more fall than line. The first corner’s off-camber and littered with dry California dust. Manzanita bushes and assorted spiky plants surround the trail. A few loose rocks pitch in to keep it interesting. Looks fun, I tell myself.

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Nov 15

water in the desert

ouch

A few years ago now, my friend Joe Parkin guest-edited Dirt Rag magazine, and he asked me to write a story for it. With Dirt Rag sadly gone and the story likely to disappear into my magazine pile forever before long, I decided to put it here for safekeeping.

This is a story about bikes and friends and recalcitrant trails, and the ways that our worlds collide in ways we never quite expect.

I have included Joe P’s original introduction, because it made me laugh at the time, and it still does. I reproduced this thing from my original file, so any errors belong to me. Don’t blame Joe. He’s totally innocent. The Oxford commas, for example, all mine.

My friend Jen See has a big brain—as in Ph.D. big. Despite that, she writes a lot of stuff about bikes. When she’s not writing about bike-related things, she surfs. A couple of years ago, she gave me a copy of Chas Smith’s Welcome to Paradise, Now Go to Hell, which is a totally awesome read, by the way. [Jen: Heh, that’s where my copy went!] Recently, she went on a media trip that included a trail that I don’t like at all. She didn’t either. Mostly. Though she ended up finding something positive. I asked her to write a piece that felt like Chas Smith [Like I could really ever ghostwrite Chas!] but was still completely Jen See [That part, I can do, for better or worse]. I think she did it. —Joe Parkin

We’d driven out to the desert with mountain bikes and beers, the necessary ingredients for a weekend of trouble making. Up a muddy road, the campsite sat high on a mesa overlooking the torrid landscape of southern Utah. We pitched tents and pulled cactus thorns from our fingers. Clouds billowed overhead, promising a future storm. I didn’t like the look of that, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. Sometimes I regret my life choices.

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