Mountain biking for real

Levis Trails kicked my ass. 

My first water break view. 

I got it in my head that I wanted to bike there. I see stuff on social media. Looked cool. 

Fortunately, I did a little research before I went. It's not just trails. It's mountain bike, single-track trails. I found a website, trailgenius.com, which uses GPS to map the trails. You can see the elevation and the topography in chart form. You can also watch videos of the rides. It's probably good that I skipped that, or I wouldn't have gone. 

I am a novice when it comes to mountain biking. I even looked up trail etiquette, because I wanted to know (kind of) what I was doing. That did come in handy. 

I loved the beginning trails. They were pretty flat, and I didn't mind the tree roots, rocks and sand. I was feeling pretty good. I stopped to drop my seat and my gears. I decided this was something I was enjoying. 

Proof that I was there. This cool piece of sandstone sticks
out of the trail, a slab between you and the down slope. 

At the next trail intersection, I barreled ahead. I had this. And then the trail got a little more steep. And the gullies were deeper. I finally stopped for water and to survey the woods. When you're on the trail, your eyes are solely on the ground ahead. If you don't avoid that stump or get your butt off the seat for that big drop, you'll pay for it. 

I checked my mileage. A little more than 2 miles in. I knew I wasn't even halfway around. But I didn't want to go back. 

Some time later, I pulled out my phone to check the map. I was pretty sure I was going further afield than I wanted. I was right. So at each intersection, I'd study the map to try and figure out my best route. The Trail Genius website only works well with a fast internet connection.

I knew I had to keep heading back. Too bad that also meant I had to keep heading up. Even in low gear, I was walking my bike more than riding it. I consoled myself with the knowledge that what goes up, must come down. 

Oh boy, does it ever. 

I worked my way up around the sandstone formations, trees and ground dropping sharply off. It was sandy, rocky and too steep for me to feel I could do it without careening over the edge. I couldn't walk the bike because the path was too narrow. I sat on the seat, brakes nearly fully on and scraped my way ahead, both feet on the ground, feeling and surely looking like a little kid just learning to ride a bike. 

A bit further on and now I'm walking my bike down switchbacks, hollowed out by many tires of better riders than me. I bet people who are good love that part of the trail. 

Then I saw it, 20 yards below. The cross country ski trail. Wide enough for a vehicle and relatively flat. I barely paused before plunging off the trail, wheeling my bike over fallen trees and branches to get to that wide swath of grass. 

I took the cross country trails most of the way back. I did one short section of MBX trail, which I had done going out. It was fun, and I was able to do it easily. 

My total mileage was pretty pathetic though: 6.8 miles 

But, it was probably the most challenging workout I've had in years. I didn't feel like I was going to die from exhaustion (like climbing 600 steps on a Georgia mountain in 90-degree heat and high humidity). I wasn't even really worried I'd fall off the bike or the hillside. 

It felt good to meet that challenge. To accomplish it. Even if I did have to push the bike up (and down) some of the hills. I did it. Maybe next time I'll do better. Pushing 50 and my first time truly mountain biking in more than 15 years, I think I did pretty well. And that admission is itself a step in the right direction.