This morning I went on to a riding event. My legs were heavy with the beer of last night, and I could barely make it up the hill to the meeting place. When I got there, I landed straight in the raffle handout with 25 screaming kids:)
With a mouth as dry as the Gobi desert (very dry) I went around and was treated to a free ginger ale from a friendly bike shop. Sipping on my drink I looked around. Most people seemed to be coming back from their rides and eating hamburgers.
I was not in the mood for food. Strengthened by the Ginger Ale, I started thinking of trails. Trails with rocks. Trails with roots. Trails with flowing corners, drops, doubles.
That’s when it dawned on me. The reason I ride.
After all the bullshit about getting in shape, relaxing after a long day, and being with nature….
Riding is about getting my dose of adrenaline.
Now you might wonder, why doesn’t he buy a motorcycle or fast car?
Well you see, speed is relative. Navigating a tight single track at 20 mph feels a lot faster than doing 100 Mph on the freeway. And the chance of dying is a lot lower.
Mountain biking allows me to push my limits in relative safety. And get my dose of speed and adrenaline.