I’d had one of those days, you know those real f*ck you and all your b*llshit days. To be completly honest the last thing I wanted to do was go riding. In fact I was ” ” this close to a large bag of Doritos and pints and pints of banana milkshake. “Go. You’ll love it when you’re out” were the fine words of my better half, Sarah.
We were riding on a Monday as Roachy was having his Mohawk redone or his nails or something on the Tuesday. When out the entire ride was a really really good pace with us only stopping the once. But otherwise uneventful. Just two mates blasting round the trials never quite growing up.
I’ve been riding Mountain Bikes for about eleven years now, starting out on my old faithful Raleigh Activator 2 and going through pretty much every sort of bike since. There was a time for a while where I didn’t ride at all. But once you start it’s in your blood, and nothing can quite replace that feeling of conquering that hill that you’ve never made or showing that drop who’s scared of who. I needed a night like that Tuesday to remind me that while somethings will come and go in life, the riding, the love of riding will always be there, and it will be a friend forever, and always, always, make me smile.
Fat Lad
