Saturday, August 25, 2012
I've reached a new level of suck. My first mountain bike "ride" in my new home was an utter failure on so many levels. I'm pissed I didn't recon the rides a little better. My failure to ask for directions to a mellow, flowy, non-technical ride that a gimp could spin around in his spandex, made for a few foul mouthed screams towards nature, rocks, myself, and inanimate objects. The section of the Tahoe Rim Trail I rode started at the Brockway Summit and only went higher. How the fuck could the trail start at the summit and go up hill, I kept uttering. Fuck off. It was a bit more technical than I need right now. I fell going uphill, which I'm sure I've done before at a much higher speed, but I just don't need it right now. I learned my lesson after 3 surgeries in under a year....or maybe I didn't learn. Oh, and who makes mountain bike shoes that walk like High Heels? I wanna punch you in the nuts and throat. You've got a recipe for falling and rage when add a left leg that doesn't lift well with High Heels, rocks, twigs, slips, pine cones, and instability. The rocky terrain made me angrily stumble up the many times I had to portage uphill over rocky sections. My fitness is similar to that of an 80 year old woman, so man was I hurting and took no pics. I just wanted to get off the fucking mountain. Not the trail for me. Not now. Worst Mountain Biker Ever award.