Ride Reports: OC mountainbiking

So, apparently I go on road rides on my mountain bike now. Anywho…here goes.

Oh my God, I think. I see them ahead, a couple on Boyfriend & Me matching Felt road bikes, not to mention wearing semi matching Felt kits. Really folks, really? I’m on my trusty (weeeell, sort of) Marin team Edition from 1995 with pink handlebars, and I’m passing them on the dirt path that is next to the sidewalk. I feel momentarily badass.

I never thought I’d say this, but: thank God for Orange County. Here at least I can still beat *some* people. I am after all a Collegiate Womens’ A mountain biker* and we all know that “beating people is fun.” A big thanks for the confidence booster, OC.

Sadly, Mountain bikes aren’t geared like road bikes and I spin out on the downhill as Boyfriend & Me whizz by. Don’t worry, I caught them on the flats.

When I reach Castaways, a short but steep hill that used to make me feel like I was going to vomit during high school volleyball workouts (or as I liked to call them, ‘torture’) I discover that really, it’s not that bad. In momentary triumph, I decide to do some intervals on it, this of course being nothing short of miraculous considering that nowadays I’m likely to not climb anything more than once if I don’t have to on the grounds that such activities are “Sisyphean.”

Right after my third interval, Boyfriend & Me finally catch up. I resist the urge to yell over my shoulder: “Hey I did this three times! and I’m gonna do it again.” Probably a smart move.

Later on, along a pedestrian path, I weave in and out of elderly couples, joggers and small, hairy dogs. My front break is really squeaky, so every time I try and slow down a little bit, it sounds like I’m coming to a screeching halt. People walking their unruly dogs look at me apologetically. I start to feel bad too, until suddenly, a teenager on a hybrid with disc brakes and…time trial bars?…. appears. He’s going pretty fast and frighting many grandmas and small, hairy dogs. I feel like much less of a menace.

But really, time trial bars? Whhaaat?

About a mile from my house my front wheel starts resisting turns. Yup, it’s flatting. A slow leak. I pull off to the side and pump it up as unsympathetic passerby pretend not to notice me.

Soon I’m back on the bike and I’m almost home. I see woman walking along the path wearing ike running shorts and really white tennis shoes. She must be on a bluetooth or something, because she’s talking, although as I ride up behind her I can only see the back of her head. Her ponytail bounces up and down. As I pass, I hear only a snippet of her conversation: “I’m a big girl with tiny panties…”

I reapeat: Whhaaat?

Strange things in this County of Orange. Straaange things.


*Ha, funny story, which I will save for later.


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