Mountain Biking Career Continues

After my 2009 2nd debut at Moab this past October (the 1st being Xterra earlier in the summer) my glacial trajectory towards securing some sort of mountain biking level of skill continues.

I was fortunate enough to have Ben guide me on a few trips through the redwoods in Santa Cruz, along rolling, soft, quiet, somewhat technical trails behind the campus and into Wilder; and then to the Buddha Trail in Nisene Marks, a mostly all up and all down singletrack - kindly pointing out ahead of time where I'd never make it (so don't even try) and encouraging me to try when I thought I couldn't. Anxious, yes, but more confident as the hours passed.

I went out the next weekend with Tracey showing me more firetrails and singletrack in Wilder Park - mostly all navigable except for one long, slow, steep-ish grind where I just petered out. Trace has an even older bike than mine - no clips, Hoo Koo E Koo circa 1992? Girls rocking it old school! I was feeling better about this mountain biking thing.

So last weekend I was back at it with Jessica the day after I returned from New York, desperate to be in the sun, working out. We headed up to Tamarancho in Fairfax to try our luck having both ventured out there on separate occasions chasing boys ahead of us and trying not to eat it.

I'd like to say we had some spectacular spills over radical drops and gigantic logs, but for the most part, our scrapes and bruises happened because we were going too slow, unable to unclip, stopped dead in our tracks by an unwieldy root or, possibly, just not paying attention. Still, we attempted to navigate the switchbacks, work our way over the rocks, and push ourselves just slightly out of our comfort zone to return mildly unscathed (or somewhat scathed?) back to the safety of the roads. Pain = progress, right?

It's both exhilarating and frustrating to try something new - or to reaquaint yourself with a long lost ability. It reminds me of the first time I tried snowboarding - having a fairly expert-level of skiing already under my belt - when I was completely schooled by 8 years olds. Don't get me wrong, it was utterly amusing and I laughed at myself as much as anyone, but at the same time, when I still couldn't figure out how to get off the chairlift at the end of the day without landing on my ass, I was frustrated.

And so, though I'm adept on 2 wheels on a road, given roots, rocks, tight turns, narrow descents, scrabble, washboards, and any number of the obstacles that exist on trails, I'm back at the beginning. Exhilarating and frustrating. But fun regardless. And especially as a wave of friends in my life are currently gravitating towards fat tires and full suspension. I'm not sure I'd pursue it as whole-heartedly if it weren't for the company it provides. But for the trail runner, mountain biking is the 2-wheeled equivalent. Beautiful places, beautiful trails. And so my evolution will continue, however slowly and with however many cuts and bruises it takes.

Check this bad ass video.