[Bikes] That escalated quickly.

This site has transformed before I have even put this live. I set up all my social media for Prairie Raven weeks ago. It was intended to be a place where I write reviews and talk about books and all things literary.

Something happened.

Things changed and a different path formed in front of me and I couldn’t resist stepping off the one I was on and begin on this one. Was it the Field Guide to Getting Lost? The string of life changes? or have I gone completely mad? Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter. This is tender to me and entirely intimidating.

Let’s go back to the week of July 12th 2016, a friend stopped me and said “Hey, Wanna do the BC Bike Race with me?”

This is the part where I would love to tell you that I hesitated, or I did a little research on WTF the BC Bike Race is.

I didn’t.

Without even blinking I said “Yes.”

Documents were filled out, paid, waivers signed. Done.

Let’s pause here for a moment. While you watch this:

This is day 5 of 7 of the race in Squamish. This is a dude who rode it in the 2016 race and this is only 6 minutes of it.

That’s right the BC Bike Race is a 7 day race….through BC….on single track trails….. from Vancouver to Whistler.

No big deal.

Just 301 km of trails.

Over Mountains.

Not on paved pathways.

For those whom don’t know me personally might be thinking I have experience racing or have some great endurance training and have possible bombed down a hill or two.

Nope.

Until about a month ago, my bike was a blue 1969 Supercycle made in Great Britain.

1969 Supercycle, until 2015 it had white wall tyres *swoon*

 

The only tracks I rode were paved.

I rode at a leisurely pace behind my slowest kid. Who is now 4.

I’ve been overweight/obese most of my life. I have been healthy now for 4 years.
I suffer from acute anxiety attacks, panic attacks, chronic depression and PTSD from sexual, physical and emotional abuse wrapped up in the cute package that stands strong(ish) today.

It’s been a rough go, today marks real ride 5, on a real mountain bike single track, day 5 on my bike (whom I have yet to name). My days and dreams of being a leg model are long since over (covered in some gorgeous amounts of mud, dried blood, a scrape or two and a butt load of bruises.)

My beautiful stems, after ride 1

I knew nothing of mountain biking and the only thing I am confident today in saying is that I fall, hard, often and I get back up.

 

The year ahead is about to be one hell of a journey.

Let’s go.

-Emma