A Case of the Wobblies

I have been into mountain biking since I was old enough to sit on one. Actually scratch that, since before even then. I’m the youngest of five brothers (which in itself is testament to how hard some parents will try when they really want a girl!) and even when I was too young to get in the saddle of a mountain bike I sat and watched as they’d set off for a day on the dirt tracks. Although I was naturally a bit impatient to join them I’m a well behaved chap so I waited my turn, and on my tenth birthday I came down to breakfast to see what I’d been dreaming about for the last four years – a brand new mountain bike just like the ones my brothers had.

Since about 15 I’ve had part time jobs to give me some idea of responsibility – I’d recommend it for anyone who is around that age, having a few dollars to put by and a few to spend when I see something I really want is the greatest thing I can imagine. Bagging groceries, bussing tables, mowing lawns – I have done the lot in pursuit of a few dollars to put towards things that grab my attention. It means that as well as being the first person my mates think of when they are looking to borrow a few dollars, I’ve been able to upgrade my mountain bike whenever I see a new one that really takes my fancy. Recently when I was talking to a friend on Messenger, he sent me a link from a site he was surfing.

It was a link to a site that offered a go at a mountain biking course known as “Trail Breakers”. A challenging course and, most importantly, one that I had not ridden a couple of thousand times. It cost a few dollars, but I had saved more than enough to pay the course fees and buy a few supplies as well. Nothing outlandish – if you are going to be cycling over uneven dirt tracks and down hills you can probably leave the camping stove behind – but a new rucksack seemed appropriate for the occasion and I decided on a new hydration pack to go in there too. It was all scheduled for the end of the summer, so not as warm as it would have been a few weeks prior, but still thirsty work.

I got all the equipment in town, but I’d researched beforehand, asking a few friends and most of all my brother Kevin, who has done it all. He recommended the hardy Israel gear stuff, so I followed his instructions and purchased a 1.5 litre hydration pack, and filled it up before I setoff. It was a harder course than I had ever ridden, and I figured that a full 1.5 litre pack would be in order. I could not have been more right. It was a fair while ago now that I went, and I’m still bruised in places I didn’t know I had places. If I hadn’t had the hydration made so readily accessible by the 1.5 litre hydration pack, I’d have been wheeled away from that place in a trolley.