Another roadie has succumbed to the lure of the forest path. Me.
I've had some serious issues with the STI shifters on my road bike, so I asked my son if I could borrow his Gary Fisher to return a movie to the Blockbuster the other day.
Even with the seat post fully extended, his bike is too small for me, but any bike is better than no bike. No complaints. I pedaled up the hill to the school and jumped on the packed gravel on the pipeline right-of-way.
I would have tacoed my aero rims in a second, but I just bombed along to the shopping center. Hey, this is fun.
Instead of returning home, I followed the pipeline route another mile further south to where it crossed one of my road bike loops. I kept going until the open space suddenly stopped halfway down a hill in a blackberry thicket above a creek.
A path led off to my right into the woods. Next thing I knew, I was pedaling along a soft dirt path. Very difficult, but fun. I passed a couple of rusted out cars then hit another path and turned left, away from the pipeline route.
Before I knew it I was on a packed dirt path, weaving between trees, downshifting up small hills, speeding down the other side then braking to make a hard turn, slurping through mud puddles … all this with a big grin on my face. I had the same surge of excitement I felt on my first bike ride away from home.
Eventually the path ended. I turn and return home the same way, avoiding streets and keeping to trails and pipeline routes. I get home, hose off the mud and leaves and what looks like part of a slug, and tell everyone about my great ride.
My son gives me that look like, “That's what I've been trying to tell you.”
Oh well. Now I've got to figure a way to get those STI shifters fixed and add a mountain bike to my collection on a budget that allows neither.
Recent Comments