Roid buffin' in the summertime
My initial forays into the world of mountain biking consisted of taking a track going off into nowhere called the "Lachrymose Loop" or something to that effect. I feared for my life the entire time, so the next time I visited the bike shop I inquired about just how one goes about learning to mountain bike without, you know, getting killed.
"No probleemo", the LBG (local bike guru) says. "Just spend time on an easy course like the Lachrymose Loop and you'll be shredding with the best of them in no time."
Well, I'm 52, I've lived a good life and have plenty of insurance. Off to the Loop I go.
My last two trips to the Loop have been pretty exciting. For the first time I was able to hop a (very small) log, a thrill for someone who only a week before almost met his Maker by trying to hop a little curb. The last trip I went around the Loop twice, undeterred by trying to hop the (very small) log, mistiming it, slamming into it and bouncing back, landing unceremoniously upon my amply padded backside.
I figure if I'm not able to shred the singletrack like a pro, I can at least learn the lingo and sound like I know what I'm doing. These are some of my favorite terms:
horizontal bike rack:
that would be me when I come to a stop but am not able to remove my feet from the toeclips in time to prevent my bike and I from assuming the horizontal position.
pruning the half-tracks:
this refers to going through a trail that is heavily overgrown with vegetation, so that one emerges from it covered with foliage he has gathered from along the trail.
going endo:
one of my favorites as an endoscopist. One goes endo when he misjudges a jump and goes flying over the handlebars. See "giving blood" for further details.
Roid buffing:
my favorite, of course. When one goes down a steep incline, in order to keep from going endo one gets up off the bike seat and sticks his (or her, depending on ownership) butt way back over the rear wheel, acting as a counterbalance. Do that long enough and you've done some roid buffing.
Part II is coming, I promise. Or not.
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