Adventures in mountain biking

Um, I went mountain biking yesterday with one of the mechanics from work after he was commenting that my bike is too nice to be relegated to just street biking. It was awesome.

Even though the mountain bike trails are by a dump, the scenery was unbelievable. Everything was so green and mossy, the trees were huge and old, there was a small lake/pond with water shimmering off the waves and bald eagles diving for fish. Breathtaking.

It was also nice to get out and learn about mountain biking, since it's been years since I've biked on anything other than road. For instance, I learned that going up hill it's best to be in low gear, sitting down, and bent as far forward as possible. I also learned that it's no good put all your weight on one foot, because that makes the pedal too close to the ground. Most importantly, I learned you don't squeeze the front break when going down a hill with rocks and branches nearby.

I fell. I was going down the hill when I found myself flipping over my handlebars and landing face first in a shrub, just inches from a huge-ass rock. At first I thought my biggest worry would be scrapes to my face, since my thigh hurt, but just like it would bruise later. But nope, after biking I went to the bathroom and found a puncture hole in my upper thigh. So, without mentioning to my male coworker that I needed stitches, essentially in my crotch, I turned down lunch and opted to be dropped off at home. Where I changed, and then hobbled to the walk-in clinic across the road for 10 stitches. I've been lazing about, icing my groin, ever since.

Would I do it again? Not for a couple of weeks, but hells yeah!