Lately, I have been making up every excuse in the book not to ride my bike. “There’s no snow” “There’s too much snow” “It’s too cold” “it’s too warm” “I’m too busy“, you get the picture. The list of excuses is endless.
I was hiding the real reason, it is a shallow doozy (if there is such a thing) I didn’t want to go because I wasn’t going to be rolling over plush paths of dirt, fallen pine needles or padded down snowshoeing trails with that crisp smell of coniferous trees being snorted up my nose holes and falling into trailside bushery. It was an excuse to drive a few hours away and ride, in the mountains. Inside my head, it was almost as if this pompous little dude in striped pants, tuxedo tails and an all-to-tall top hat got in the centre of the circus ring, took out a megaphone and shouted
“HEY MOUNTAIN SNOB!”
“YEAH, YOU WITH THAT WEIRD CURLY HAIR AND INFERIORITY COMPLEX…. YOU ARE A MOUNTAIN SNOB. GET OVER IT AND GO RIDE YA STUBBORN GIT”
Then the pompous little dude storms off the stage in my mind. I sat there a minute and digested the scene that just played out in my rusty old cranium. “Crap. The Ringmaster was right.” I said to myself. I dragged my winterized body off the couch (with more help and coaching than I’ll admit) and went for a ride. More accurately, I went for a toodle, left my ego at the door and rode out my humility.
Where I typically ride there is usually kilometres of trail to ride on, from the popular routes to the ones where you can probably see no one for the entire day & have the woods to yourself (aside from the occasional deer or bovine grazer). My wee little town has plenty of paved pathways with the occasional trail. It wasn’t so bad, sure it wasn’t death-defying excitement and I certainly didn’t launch off any sweet jumps but I discovered views I hadn’t seen before, even parts that I didn’t realise had existed & others I pieced together from fragmented memories back in my youth. Once I rode out that humility I started with I realised how caught up I was in my own ego & bike snobbery. A mountain diva, I facepalmed myself for being such a doofus. I quickly realised I’d never end up scaling those goaty trails that make me meet my top tube if I wasn’t willing to do the easier stuff too. I had fun with it, and the next thing I knew I was
Once I rode out that humility I started with I realised how caught up I was in my own ego & bike snobbery. A mountain diva. I facepalmed myself for being such a doofus. I quickly realised I’d never end up scaling those goaty trails that make me meet my top tube if I wasn’t willing to do the easier stuff too. I had fun with it, and the next thing I knew I was toodling all over the place.
There is this super awesome bike guy I met at the tail end of 2016 and his words came rushing back at me as I stood on this little hill. He was talking about people coming to him & asking him where they should ride and his response was “THROW A ROCK!” I remember chuckling when he said it without realising that I never threw a rock and rode in that direction. I highly recommend it.
How to toodle:
- Dust off your bike
- Put on your helmet
- Drop your inner diva/ego at the doorstep
- Pick up a rock
- Throw Rock
- Repeat steps 4-6 until the toodle kicks in.