So tonight I tried reading some of the mountain biking blogs. I used to subscribe to Backpacker magazine for all the trail descriptions and musings that come with prolonged seclusion. I guess the slow repetitive walking where scenes gradually rise to meet you over the next hill allow you to take your mind off your environment and ponder why you have even come to this beautiful, desolate, but lonely spot. 

Mountain biking lacks this. Your environment changes so quickly you barely realize it except you know you're dodging pine trees instead of oaks. But, you don't the time to reflect on how the pine smells or how long those oaks with their gnarly roots have been around and what history they've seen. No, when you're on a bike and bombing down a hill, your only thought is keep the rubber on the trail and shiny parts carrying the soft fleshy thing upright. It's hard to make the thousands of automatic miniscule adjustments philosophical when you're in the moment. Of course, you can make this about life and how there are many reactions that we blah blah blah...

I'm just saying mountain biking is an constant adrenaline fueled endeavor that is hard to describe. When you do it doesn't sound fun. "Aw man it was great, we hurtled down the hill dodging tree branches with our skull. We went so fast I was afraid to let go of the handlebar long enough to grab the break. Then we climbed a hill and my thighs were screaming at me. And then I had this great crash where I flipped over the bars and rolled out where I was sitting on the trail and my bike crashed into a tree." See doesn't sound like that much fun right. But, that wind in your face and you manipulating a machine that you control every aspect of. Even that fear of injury at every bump will keep on edge for the next few hours after the ride. 

So here's to Mountain Biking

namaste

vaya con Dios