LET THE BIKE DO THE WORK

Of all the articles and tips I've read about mountain biking, "let the bike do the work" is very appropriate. As I've mentioned in the past, I ride a Marin Pioneer Trail hardtail mountain bike. Hardtail means it has no suspension in the back, or tail, of the bike. I do have a front suspension fork, which helps out tremendously on rocks and roots.

During yesterday's ride, I had ridden a rocky trail and was about to descend down an incline that gave Matt a concussion a few years ago. As I lined up for the descent, I remembered "Let the bike do the work". Kind of like "If you build it, they will come", from Field of Dreams.

Anyway, I rolled down the hill and hit the first large rock and relaxed my arms to let the front shock absorb the impact. Sure enough, my bike rolled down the rocks like a champ. I headed for another rock garden in the park and again, let the bike do the work.



It's amazing what a difference it makes after your ride. I didn't feel as beat up as I normally do after a two and a half hour ride. Now mind you, I was tired, but my arms didn't hurt from the constant pounding of the rock trails. Now if I can remember to do the same with my legs and arms at the same time, I'll be in good shape.

The best way to describe my riding style (if I have one), is controlled chaos. I am not tall, slender, and graceful like Bert; I am short fat, and barrel chested. I envision myself looking like a water buffalo in heat when I ride, because I ride ugly. I have a constant grimace like I'm in pain, but I'm actually just gritting my teeth to keep them from hitting during bumpy portions of the trail.

Since I am naturally a cabezon, my helmet always looks like it's two sizes too small, sitting on top of my head. Then there is always my early warning system, or like Bert calls it, "old man burping". I can't help it. When you get to be my age, things come out of your body when you least expect it. I would rather an uncontrolled burp come out than something from the other end, if you catch my drift. Anyways, before I got my bell, my burping would serve notice to hikers and other bikers that something ugly was around the next turn.

Maybe gracefulness on the bike is something I can learn. Those of you who knew me in my younger years know that I did some mean Tejano and country dancing back in the day. You have to be somewhat graceful to dance, right? Maybe there's hope for me yet...