I went riding! Near a mountain! There were hills! And sticks and rocks and bumpy bits and hills and my legs hurt and I was quite slow and I loved every minute 🙂
What possibly made me look quite silly was that I was riding with a mountain biking expert…and we were only really on the outskirts of mountain biking. A dip of the toe in mountain biking water on my poor little commuter (geared, but still very much designed for the casual ride), so the expert went careening along and I went wobbling after.
I’m not sure what the best part was. It may have been going downhill with my brakes squealing in protest as I crawled at snail’s pace behind my trailblazing companion. It may have been my total and utter joy at finally reaching the top of an agonising, thighs screaming hill. Another possible contender was going over a tiny log and nearly face-planting into my handlebars. Or even the hill that, ‘there was no chance [I] could get up on a casual bike. Honestly, just walk it.’
Or was it once we finally got up fairly high, then had the complete and utter joy of going down steep roads really, really fast with no brakes on hoping for the best?
Although you may be thinking the latter has all the votes, I would say it was a combination of all the above (and more!) that made it super fun. It was also perfectly blue skies and a lovely temperature.