I Am Not A Mountain Biker

Riding in Sedona, AZ

 For our anniversary on April 1st, Simon and I thought would we would do a repeat of our anniversary from the previous year and head to Sedona to do some mountain biking.  Last year's trip was my very first time on my new mountain bike (which was stolen later that month by some cretins in Phoenix), and I thought that I did pretty well.  I mountain biked off and on throughout the rest of 2014, improving slightly but never really elevating my skill level.  After this year's trip, I've come to the conclusion that I am not, in fact, a mountain biker.  And it's highly likely that I never will be.
 

My kind of trail...no suprises!  And beautiful scenery.

On our most recent mountain bike excursion, I struggled.  I struggled a lot.  As the day went on, I got better, but I was still struggling for the most part.  I would get that little bit of elation as I traversed a gnarly bit of trail peppered with rocks, tree roots, and the occasional hiker.  But then there were times when I would hop off my bike in a panic, afraid that was I was going to go ass-over-tea kettle and end up in the hospital...or the morgue.  There was one instance where my front tire got pointed towards the edge of a ravine, I locked up the brakes, and just kept on sliding.  As my front tire finally found purchase and I was able to come to a stop, pebbles tumbling over the edge in a prequel to what would could have been me, I tossed the bike down in frustration and had myself a good pout.

The eternally patient Simon Weber.  He tries.

 My problem is that I can't suppress my fear of getting injured long enough to actually enjoy an activity that is to most people a really fun experience.  I think I'm athletic enough and I'm in shape in enough to do it, but I'm terrified of it.  Literally terrified.  I've never been an adrenaline junkie.  The thought of engaging in activities that could ultimately result in injury or death is terribly unappealing to me.  I have trouble empathizing with people who get a rush out of these activities.  I wish I could turn off my fear for a minute and just enjoy myself.  But I can't.

Pushing my bike up the hill.  I do this a lot.

I've figured out that I'm more of a dirt trail bike rider...give me a dirty little trail with no boulders and I'm in.  Maybe this trail happens to be through a forest, with gentle uphills and downhills, and maybe a pile of deer poo here and there.  Maybe this trail happens to be on a mountain, in which case I guess technically I could still consider myself a mountain biker.  I think the fact that I ride a mountain bike at all makes me a mountain biker, but living in a community of hardcore mountain bikers has shown me that simply riding a mountain bike does not a mountain biker make.  But that's all right...I leave all those rocky trails to those crazy people...I'm perfectly content on my flat little trails on which there are no surprises.  That's good enough for me.