Ahh, the thrill of the ride...

Wednesday, September 17th – Sunday, September 21st

So we went mountain biking today. We drove down to an area just outside Rotorua, a redwood forest that is part of a logging company. Year ago, the logging company collected trees from around the world and planted them in this area, essentially creating a test plot for possible re-growth plantings. Now, there are a large network of trails throughout the redwood forest that are maintained as mountain bike trails. The trails are graded from level 2 – level 5. There are, disappointingly for me, no level 1 tracks. There was a “kids loop” which sounded more like my speed, but Cory said I couldn’t go.

Now, I should probably review my biking history for you so that you can better understand how events occurred… My first bike without training wheels, to my memory, was a lavender banana-seated kids bike. It was a single gear traditional bike; you braked by pushing backwards on the pedals. Now, the neighborhood we lived in didn’t have sidewalks, but there were some rules about how far from the curb we could stray, and kids followed these rules. There were also rules about safety equipment – no sandals on the bike. Helmets weren’t really part of the gear back then and it appears my brain survived unscathed. On this bike, while showing off for my cousin Lynette, I once ran into a parked car. (Clearly, folks, this is foreshadowing.)

In middle school, my parents bought me another bike, which became a mode of transportation to/from work at the Y and the country club. This bike, however, was quite an upgrade, as it had gears and I could pedal backwards, as I had hand brakes.

Now in college, a boyfriend bought me a Huffy from Wal-Mart. (He didn’t last, obviously.) I stored it outside our summer apartment, which meant that the gears quickly rusted and the bike became a single gear. I rode that Huffy to and from work in the summers, until it was stolen. Really, who steals a Huffy?

Cindy loaned me a road bike a year or two ago, and I’d ridden it a little, but as I’ve aged, I’ve gotten a little more hesitant about bikes and road safety. And, really, all those parked cars seemed dangerous…

So this new bike is my first that I’ve ridden in quite a while. In addition to having gears that actually do shift, the handbrakes are reversed from other bikes I’ve ridden. My balance and steering are also a little shaky, I should point out.

As you can see, all of this screams “YOU CAN’T MOUNTAIN BIKE!” I know. I know. But I have a pretty big ego and, perhaps, an over-inflated competitive spirit. And, hey, who doesn’t like a challenge?

So we pulled into the car park at the head of the trail system. There were a lot of cars and a lot of bikers, ranging from 4 year-old to senior citizen and from clear novice (me) to apparent expert. The 4 year-olds and the senior citizens buoyed my spirits. I dismissed the apparent experts by telling myself we’d be sticking to the grade 2 trails, while they defied death on the grade 4-5 trails.
Our plan was to ride three grade 2 trails; it sounded simple enough and the trails were pretty well-marked to help discriminate between the different grades. The first trail went well enough – I found I loved pumping up hills. I concentrated on practicing shifting gears and focused on braking with the rear (reversed hands, remember). From ahead, Cory would call out little things to look out for on the trail – a rutted out muddy patch; a bermed corner; whoops (a series of small up and downs); tree roots or rocks that made for rough going. Sure, there were some eye-boggling moments, but that was to be expected.

Then, shortly after we turned onto our second trail, disaster struck. Okay, family members, don’t panic, it wasn’t really disaster. I was heading down a short, steep hill and caught my front tire on a partially buried log. I tumbled off the bike, over the handle bars. I wasn’t really injured, but was a little shook up. I assured Cory I was okay, which took some doing, and hopped back on my bike. We started back on the trail, and for awhile I was fine. But then we came to another hill. I headed down, and made it safely, but found myself holding my breath. After that, any little downhill situation got my heart pounding and had me nearly hyperventilating.

Back at the car, bikes safely on the rack, Cory checked over my bruises. I think I’ll have a couple of good ones; the best being a handle bar-shaped bruise on my thigh and a strawberry/bruise combo on my hip. My ego, though, may be permanently damaged.

But I’ll be back for more – don’t you worry. I may just stick to the kids’ loop next time, though.