Why do I do it?

Today marked my first off-road mountain-bike ride of the summer. I rode with a friend from the ward up to the mouth of Slate Canyon, then along the Bonneville Shoreline Trail north to Rock Canyon. I now understand why most people who ride that segment do so going south. We found some pretty darn steep hills, so steep in some places that even I, a certified crazy fool, would be a little scared going down hill. As Mr. Murphy is a close friend of mine, during one struggle up a ridiculously steep grade I hit a patch of trail covered in loose rocks, my front tire stuck and turned, and I started to tip over. No worries, I thought, I've done this thousands of times. But the problem was, I'm riding on new pedals this summer and the degree of ankle twist to unclip is a little more than it used to be. So down I went. It was a little bit comical, as all instances of inability to unclip in time are, and I picked up the following treasure (not nearly as much of an inconvenience as the one pictured above, so small it barely bled at all, even in the remaining 45 minutes of the ride). I had a good little laugh, brushed the dirt off, and we went on about our merry way. We climbed some more hills, bombed down a couple (not nearly as long as the uphill sides) and then finished our ride with a brisk trip through the eastern bench streets home.

Nicole (and possibly some of you) wonders why I enjoy and have always enjoyed, any hobby, sport, or recreational activity that can cause bloodshed. Partly, it's because I grew up that way and a little blood was never much more than a reason for some of my "favorite" sayings, such as "Scars are proof," or "If you ain't bleedin', you ain't tryin'," or maybe "Chicks dig scars." Since past action is only partially responsible for my enjoyment of activities that are likely to cost me some skin, and since I've been trying to figure out what draws me to things like mountain biking and rock climbing and other "extreme" or "action" sports, I think I finally figured it out (with the help of Nicole's blog post tonight). I sit at a desk and fix computers all day, except for the days (which I enjoy) when I get to crawl around in ceiling tiles and on ladders pulling new network cable. Now seriously don't get me wrong here, I LOVE my job. I am a computer geek and my job is a computer geek's dream. However, my job doesn't really allow for much of the adrenaline rush that I got regularly when I was growing up. So, despite (and partially because of) the fact that I fairly frequently leave bits and pieces of hide along the trail, I love riding off-road because it makes me feel alive. As much as I love computers and fixing/tinkering with them, there's no wind blowing past my ears at my desk. There's no up-and-down, think fast or crash, rattling along the trail as fast as I dare (or maybe almost as fast) when I'm working. Even on my training rides, which take place on "safe" paved surfaces, the wind doesn't feel as fresh, and the hills feel more like exercise than adventure.

So yes, I am admittedly, certifiably crazy. I can sit at a desk in front of a computing problem for 9 hours without getting tired of it. But, every now and then, I need more. I need fresh air blowing in my face, sweat soaking the liner of my helmet, my bike rattling beneath me, grind my slow way up the hills and fly down the other side, through the river and through the woods good times. I've lost plenty of blood and skin in my life, and a little bit more every now and then is nowhere near too high a price to really feel alive. So stay tuned this summer for some more mountain bike posts.