As a kid in Ocala, Fla., I always loved the outdoors -- being active and getting dirty. I played outside every day until my mom told me it was too dark, but I always tried to say that I could still see.
When I was 3 years old, I rode my first bike without training wheels. Soon after, I crafted plywood jumps and the bumps and bruises followed. I played many sports, but I always loved riding my bike.
I rode it to visit friends before I could drive, and after I got my keys, I took to trails on my mountain bike after school and on the weekends. As I headed off to the University of Florida, I traded in my racing jersey for a backpack and my trail took me to my classes.
I kept the mountain bike, though, because it was cooler than the other Wal-Mart bikes. But I soon realized there was a reason for all the road bikes -- and even for the fixed-gear bikes the indie kids rode. It took all my energy just to cross campus. So I commandeered by dad's old Connandae that lacked shocks, and I slapped some street tires on it. It was stolen, and I made a switch to a real road bike.
It's funny that I'm riding across the country on a road bike now because I used to make fun of them, saying "What fun is that? They're just riding. There aren't any jumps. You can't slide your back tire around turns ... it's just road." I hadn't even been a serious road biker rider until Clay approached me about this trip. I still think that mountain biking is more fun than road biking, but it would be way too much work to ride across the country on that old mountain bike of mine.
No comments:
Post a Comment