This spring exploded out of the door
just 2 days after snowcover welcomed snowshoes and skis in early
March. Pow! It arrived. Sure, we had a few stubborn snows after
that, but in truth, we knew spring was winning the good fight. As
such, any open mountain bike trail in the state is going gang busters
and Levis Mound, (www.levismound.com)
one of the first, has had 3 weekends of packed parking lots. Not
that it matters, with 25 miles of singletrack, riders spread out
quickly.
It seems that early season also brings
out mountain bike enthusiasts of all types, shapes and sizes. Some
maybe with shiny new rides, others with solely a resolution to just
ride more often and this is their start. It makes for interesting
people watching post ride outside the chalet. My little gang of
trail building friends are no different. Some of them like the
latest greatest full suspension rig- sporting gram saving carbon and
Ti doo-dads, and others just clip into last years dirt caked mongrel
steel steed.
Relaxing in old camp chairs, we sip our
beverages and conversation moves back and forth between the next new
wheel size (“28.2” wheels-they'll be awesome and I'll be
killin it!”) and lamenting the poor souls lifting old school
26” bikes from their racks. “Those look so tiny” -commenting
on the bikes that were perfectly fine for all of us a few short years
ago. Yeah, they still do work you know.
My friend Dan is on the old
school-steel-is-real end of the spectrum. He's built up a rare
“69er” which you'd be hard pressed to see at any trail head,
rides a single speed 29+ Krampus and a fatbike. He loves to give
people grief anytime the weight weeny conversation gets too serious.
I like that. He'll tirelessly needle folks anytime the chatter is
more about the bike than the ride. Sure-we all like the hardware,
but it shouldn't come at the cost of why we're out there in the first
place. Sometimes we need reminders of that.
I like riding with Dan- he's fit and
can hammer with the fast dudes who power up and down the Levis
trails, but he keeps it all in perspective and I'll join him for a
no-drop-just-ride-along as well. I'm not in the jet set racer mode
mentality any longer, so I appreciate going my own pace and riding
within my ability-fitness or skill wise. I can use the excuse that I
want to enjoy the time outdoors “just riding” (and that is
true) but to be honest, I wish I still had the horsepower to keep up.
It is what it is. “Next month I'll be in better shape.”
Dan's favorite prevailing philosophy may be “Just ride and shut
up.” That, and don't take yourself too seriously- “pass
the flask dude.”
The conglomeration of bikes continued
to stream past us in the parking lot. An old Klein Mantra, a brown
26” Schwinn High Sierra, four bar linkage suspension bikes, a 750B
and enough single speeders to keep my quads quivering. Strutting
riders in their flashy new 2015 kits walk by all serious, others in
tattered shorts and t-shirts with shin guards not so much. Some pay
their trail fee others sadly “forget.” The no helmet people are
the most worrisome-they, if anyone, need the protection the most.
They all continue to parade by, click in and head out the trailhead
entrance. It's all good.
It's dirt on your legs that is more
important than the latest greatest gizmo and what bike you're on
seems to disappear once the pedals are spinning. While Dan loves his
steel, I'm not a frame material zealot-I've had them all and am on a
bamboo bike at the moment for gods sake! They all worked and got me
out the door pedaling. Earlier in the day, my little group sported
a fatbike, a couple single speeds, a pair of 29+, a full zoot FS and
a lightweight 29er hardtail. Quite an array. We stopped every once
and a while, waited, chatted it up, viewed the scenery and kept the
Strava feeds mostly at bay. That's riding in my book.
“The best bikes aren’t at the
extreme ends of the functionality spectrum, so specialized that
they’re a bike-length away from dysfunctionality. The best ones are
boring jacks-of-many-trades, and you stretch them to their limits
with skill and experience.” ― Grant
Petersen
I'll admit-back in the race days there
was a new bike in the garage every year and any new shiny thing had
to be hung on it. I followed the sport and it's iterations
constantly. Cost was almost no object and I figured I needed all of
that to make me a better cyclist. Those folks, like my old self,
will always be there, and I was knee deep in it. Nothing wrong with
all that per se, but in hind sight, it didn't make the ride
any better.
It seems, as really has always been the
case, the best rides are ones with no agenda, no attitude and they
unfold with no regard to the clock or a distance travelled. Legs can
burn or not, wheels can roll solo or with others, and training logs
are forgotten or not even considered. Maybe it's my age, my wisdom
(ha) or maybe it's just an appreciation of how lucky I am to be doing
this at all. Just ride.