Primary

Not the Presidential Primary. But rather, the primary reason behind the passion of mountain biking. Who are we as mountain bikers? Efficient, hard working, colorful, intense, and as friendly as anyone. We are a great movement of people, chasing each other across the desert, over mountains, and after the dream. Chasing the dream….

What is the dream? Podium spots? Money? Maybe. But most likely not. For me, it’s less tangible, not as easily defined, and not as easily captured. The dream I chase becomes reality in short moments of clarity, a burst of knowledge, inspiration, and epiphany. Riding under the moonlight on La Sal Loop Road in May 2006 was a manifesto of that. And conversely, riding through tears in August 2005 at Brianhead was another example. Both offered glimpses into a different world, a world that is out there for the discovering, available only if you know where to look.

And where is that? Inward, most likely.

The addictive quality of racing and riding is euphoric and torturous, both feared and craved. It sparks a vision quest that in turn leads to the above, those moments…. On the bike I have clarity, confidence. Life is simplified. Worldly problems melt into the sand and singletrack.

Solitude is not highly sought after in the normal world. But in our little universe it is premium real estate. Except the solitude comes with a paradoxical socialism, in which we thrive on the solo experiences of others. That is, we live out the dream vicariously through one another, as we each chase after our own version.

Collectively we construct a world of adventure and peril. Equal to the narrative classics, and any childhood imagination. We are as a whole, modern explorers, breaking ground both literally and figuratively. Individually we reveal new ground in our world with every ride. Even treading well known ground can still bring to light new insight, new knowledge. Camp Lynda proved that.

And so, we press on, ever chasing this proverbial snipe. And just when we think we have it caught, just when we think we have a grip on it, it squirms away, and disappears up the trail. Leaving us gasping for air and smiling from ear to ear.

And then, once again the chase is on.

Today’s weight: 177.5