Nice old mountain bike ride I had on Thursday. If the truth be told, I still enjoy it heck of a lot more than road riding. I don't want to diss triathletes but (lots of MTB sentences start like this- some of my best friends are triathletes. Honest) a chap on a Triathlon club ride once asked me why it was I rode on gravel and how it was enjoyable. Simply speaking it is more fun, and a lot more fun at that. On the road you can whizz faster,still see some pretty countryside and go hey-ho-zippy fast as a car down hill, which is exhilarating, especially if you imagine for a fleeting moment what will happen should you lose it. On a mountain bike you can, for one, see amazing countryside with hardly anyone in it, and for , on a good ride, you can be utterly engaged in "The Flow" whatsit for massive amounts of your ride. Or else you fall off. Not in a brains spattered all over the road way, but in a bruisy knees, ego munching way generally. Often with accompanying giggling.
Anyway, this "Flow" is the key to it- reading a trail ahead at a little speed means processing a lot of information, making tiny weeny back of brain decisions constantly, and the odd biggy, sod the drop-off type decision.
If you want to do it properly fast you absolutely have any gas-bill/annoying person at work sort of thoughts utterly squashed out, which frankly is as good a thing as you can get legally (although this can happen in sex, you cannot easily crash during it, unless you are a good deal more adventurous than me, allowing the possibility of gas-bills if one's heart is not in it). This is absolutely not that I think mountain biking is better than sex in any way. Absolutely not. It is also borderline scary (biking that is), and being on the edge of controlling it,either speed wise or skills wise.
The other thing is exuberance and playfulness. Hairy mountain bikers will not admit to being in any way playful or frolicky to their mates, but will whoop like comedy cowgirls, hopping and skidding and arsing around. I like this. There is not enough whooping in modern life.
Ladies, I exhort you once more, get on your bikes and get muddy and whoop and forget your bad stuff. And then have a welshcake and a cup of tea.
Anyway. Cycletta tomorrow. And what to wear? Autumn is such a gear headache.