Home Skooling

Ever conscious of the aging process, in ways that my peers and wife tell me are ridiculous – I must say mortality has reared its ugly head in the field of my everyday vision. I blame this partially on a case of Meningitis last year that had me drugged, spinal tapped and staring up at the ‘Neurology’ sign at BCH and being told that some type of ‘release’ may be necessary to take the pressure off of my brain. All the blow-stick controlled wheelchair (ESPN…..sssssttttt – ESPN2…….sssssttttt) and applesauce jokes in my past were creeping back to haunt me.

Nay, it was only viral, not bacterial. They sent me home after two days and told me to play like moss – find a cold, dark place – and stay there 10 days. I made it 4, and snuck in a ride without telling anyone. Oh well.

But now, a new season has reared its head. I’d like to say that we were all ready – but the winter was such a joke – that I fear I can hardly say that I feel like I have been off the bike for any significant period of time at all.

I stooped to hauling the road bike out a few times, to spin, remind the legs about circular motion. We went to Fruita a few weeks ago. At 4,400 feet – with no really long climbs, the place is a great season opener.

Fast forward to this past week. It’s not like I haven’t been riding. I have been putting in about 10 hours a week in the saddle, trying to ride gears (there is enough in the annals about 1X addiction – but the pull is strong my brother – very strong – cue Darth Vader voice here). I have this super trick new bike – a Santa Cruz Superlight, about the coolest bike there is. Joey has styled me with the RockBox Viagra Psylo – with proper stroking the fork goes from a rigid 80mm to 120. Wild shit. I just don’t like it as much as the single. Anyway – I digress.

Due to mounting stress (this is NOT a sexual problem) at home - can you say add 1,000 square feet to your house - and additional stress at work (can you say add 12 employees in 12 months) I planned a Tuesday to get out and get a long ride in since the spring was coming on so hard, and so early (again – no reference to sexual problems).

Note to self: SELF – don’ plan early season rides with anyone in the 80466 zip code! They are all freaks of nature with ridiculous lung capacities and the ability to stand up off the couch after approximately 6,312 days off the bike – and kick your ass sideways.

Anyway, we headed out for a casual 4 hours or so. No big deal. Mid-summer this ride would be a warm up for some hideous 9 mile carry over some small peak. Might as well have been. We hit a wide array of local trails. We started out gracing our friend’s deck (I find it hysterical that the most oft used access we have is literally across someone’s deck), did some loops, climbed a bit, rode some other stuff and ended up in the canyon. Not that I actually rode in a straight line for any of the ride. The trails that we frequent – that we mock in the summer – are fricking technical mothers. After fruita, I was feeling pretty confident about not losing much technical ability over the course of the winter. Hah. I could no more clear small rocks than I could climb anything taller than a match box. Rather than getting frustrated, I just slowed down. We climbed some more, shot some video and stills with a bitchin’ new camera, and generally freaked out that even north facing trails we clear – and DRY – in the first week of April. Global warming is a myth – ah – and that whole world trade center thing was pulled off by the same guys who did the fake moon landing – ok – move on.

I felt so slow – I wasn’t embarrassed – I just felt bad for the person I was with. It wasn’t that I felt that bad physically – it was just such an effort to get going, and get up hills, and steer. Wow.

Anyway. I lived. A shot and a cup of strong bean got me up the final hills and back to my house in one (relative) piece.

As I sawed up all the old parts of the side of my house and sipped a few cold beers, I was again – after 13 freaking years of these trails, day in and day out – still overwhelmed by how difficult they are; how awesome they are and so blown away by how amazing it was just to be out.

Hail Spring.