By Mary
McEneaney
Reprinted with the permission of CycleSouth and On The Road
Publishing (March/April, 1992)
March is finally here! The wind may well be blowing but winter is basically over and soon we'll be seeing the flowers, the pollen, and the cyclists on the road. And I won't have to look at my mountain bike for another, oh, six or seven, maybe even eights months if my luck and the weather hold out. Thank heavens!
It's not that I dislike my mountain bike. Or mountain biking in general. The times I've gone mountain biking I've had fun, the people I've ridden with are the best, and being in the woods certainly beats being out on the road when a cold wind is blowing. It's just that, well....if you've ever wondered how bad a person can be at this sort of stuff, take a look. We're not just talking bad here, folks, we're talking really bad. Pitiful. And what's worse, it's obvious; it's written all over my face. One look and there it is-I'm a wimp and a wuss.
The fact is, this is one sport in which I just can't fake it. I may never bring in the peleton, but at least on the road I can hold my own and I usually can manage to look like I know what I'm doing.
The most basic talent of mine-looking like I know what I'm
doing even when I don't-is a talent that I acquired early on in life. But for
some reason when it comes to off-road cycling, this handy skill forsakes me.
There's just no faking it here. Not for me. Perhaps it's because I'm working so
hard not to be left behind. Perhaps it's because as I get older, I realize there
is something, called mortality, that I worry about. Perhaps it's that torn
hamstring I'm forever ignoring. Whatever it is, when it comes to the trails, my
talents for fakery fail me.
Since no one has ever accused me of having nerves of steel, the fall from grace is not too far. And being that, on single track, I'm usually far back at the end of a long line of riders, witnesses to my falls are few. But, then, being alone at the end of that line does have its drawbacks. Like leaving me alone with nothing better to do than think about the various ways I could possibly break my neck, shatter a hip, or crack my skull sliding down that ravine two inches to my left!
When you're out in Mother Nature, watch out. You never know
when some tree is going to jump you, or when some deer going for the high jump
over your head is going to miscalculate.
Did I say I had fun on these rides?
Yup, I'm glad it's spring. I won't have to make any more excuses. I can see my friends on the road and still hold my head up high. And just to make myself feel even better, I think I'll hide that mountain bike of mine. Maybe I'll slide it under the bed. Maybe I'll stow it away in the basement. No! .... I'll throw it off the deck...into the yard...I'll let the grass overtake it...then I'll be happy. It'll be where it belongs, ensconced in Mother Nature, and I won't have to look at it.