The next few years felt like a roller coaster, a lot of great things happened, and so did a lot of horrible things. Towards the end of my Junior year, I sat in a small Sprint store working alone. The sun was shining through the glass window front end directly on me, almost as if to tease me for working on such a day and wearing uncomfortable dress clothing, lacking any customers, and wasting precious moments in life. I felt a need for change, something just needed to happen for me. My friend Dave had been talking about mountain biking and recently brought his bike up to school. He'd done some riding, and talked about it at the apartment, and again I would criticize in my head. Sitting in that store however, something clicked. I wanted a bike, and I was closing up the store early so I could go buy one and mess around on it. Impulsive yes, a mistake? No. I snatched a cheap 75 dollar bike that was probably made for an adult that was about 5 ft tall, over a foot less than myself. While its funny to look back at the bike I bought because it was such a P.O.S., it still holds a place in my heart because it planted the seed that ended up bringing me back to my true self. I rocked this bike for about a week until it began to fall apart. This was no surprise because it really wasn't meant for me or what I was doing to it.
Slowly my skills and knowledge grew, and during a summer at home I saved up to purchase what I consider my first real bike. At this point many would have considered my attention to every bike in every demographic of bikes a little obsessive. I just saw it as proper consumer research.
The summer meant little riding due to my demanding construction job that left me exhausted by dinner, but I would think about the trails at school everyday, knowing I'd soon be there, riding, with my roommate.
School came, and riding ensued, pretty much daily for me. We began to go to the MTB club meetings, which were poorly run and unproductive. Still, aside from that, some people began to ride, and what I like to consider the "Original 6" was built. Jake, Dave, Steve, Chris, Bern-adette, and myself. Jake and I were asked to take over the top positions of the club, and thats when things started rolling. We didn't have much to work with, but we made the best with what we had. Riding was the only thing we cared about, but it became more than that. We shared things silently, without eye contact, or body language. You just felt it. Tearing down the red trail, barely holding on, riding the fine line of a crash or no crash, and you could feel what everyone else felt in the air. I guess the only way I've ever been able to verbalize that emotion was by screaming "Wahoo" as it overcame me. Some know the true meaning of that as I do, others may know it differently, or sadly never know that at all.
The 5 of us began to do a lot together. Ride, drink, snowboard, waste time talking in a language of bike speak many would be annoyed by, but there was a bond that couldn't be found anywhere else. I recognized this, and it led to many changes in my life. I started to live my life metaphorically... the same way I rode. When I get uncomfortable, I learned to let up on the brakes and let the natural gravity of things dictate my speed and control. I learned to look further ahead, yet still focus on what was right in front of my tire, making me faster and flow better. If an obstical was ahead you couldn't weigh yourself down when you hit it, otherwise you would crash. You have to stay light in your front end, commit to the obstacle, and leave it behind you. I began to recite a quote in my head that I wish everyone could understand: "when you come back from a ride like that your whole life seems better, your whole life seems easier, and you're happier with your family, you're happier with your friends you're happier with your job and where you live" -Chris Eatough. What I took out of riding the most though, was if I wasn't feeling a particular trail, I could just take another one, and in those moments all that really mattered was what was important to me, being happy, and if I wasn't happy with my path in life I could change it. I found that place on my bike, on the trail, within myself, and whenever I was with these people.
I'll never deny that most of the best friendships I have were made on those trails, with people who saw each other eat it, triumph over fears, and spoke a common language that could never be heard other than the sound of a chain beating against it's chainstay, or a silence shattering "WAHOO!" I look back everyday at when I called Mountain Bikers losers. Ignorant. Now I can say I understand though.
As for the "Original 6"... I'm not sure if in that moment of life they understood how important they were to me, how they helped me through things they probably had no idea about, how they helped me find my true self, and how important they will continue to be for the rest of my life. To them I say. Wahoo!
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