Challenges, Surprises, and Successes: Kate's First Tracks

Hello Adventurers. It's Kate again.

This weekend, my mindset about this trip really took a turn (for the good, I promise). To give credit where credit is due, this trip was really Aaron's idea; something he drummed up in the middle of a cold and snowy winter while we watched movies and read books about people who had taken great adventures, faced seemingly insurmountable challenges, and yet came out on the other side with an unforgettable experience. I feel incredibly honored, in actuality, that Aaron wanted to take me on this trip. After all, he is a superior rider and I can be a bit of an over-planner/worrier-- not always the ideal traveling companion when things don't go according to plan.

For a little bit, I felt like I was tagging along on a ride that could have been titled "Aaron's Very Big, So Cool, Badass Bike Ride from Canada to Mexico Because Hell Yes." But on Tuesday I got an email that my bike had arrived at the shop, and on Saturday I was test riding it around the neighborhood, making adjustments, and finally bringing it home.

And, guys, she's a beauty.

Yellow bar tape by request, a 'free' water bottle, frame bag, rear rack, and overall seriously sweet bicycle.

And you know what two 29" wheels, some unique dropped handlebars, and a titanium frame give you? Some skin in the game. An extra level of commitment from me that says to The Universe (and to Aaron) that I am going to learn to ride this bike, to fix this bike, to love (and sometimes hate) this bike, and ride it as far as I can in summer 2016.

 

How surprised I was to discover that only 24 hours I was going through every stage of learning to ride the bike, fix the bike, love the bike, and hate the bike. All on my first off-road trip.

This afternoon, we headed to the Minnesota Valley Wildlife Refuge, which Aaron wrote a bit about a few days ago. A pretty surprising place I had driven over thousands of times but never really knew anything about.

Let's break down the trip into Challenges, Surprises, and Successes, in chronological order.

Challenge #1: Both mountain bikes don't fit on the bike rack. Hmm... break one down, load 'er in the trunk!

Challenge #2: The hill down into the trails is steep, rocky, and sandy. In essence, a bit terrifying. From this, however, I get my first Success #1: The brakes work well. 

Success #2: I quickly learn to navigate some relatively simple trails and find the environment and company to be spectacular.

Suprise #1: Sand. Deep, soft, tire-grabbing sand. The kind you would love to dig your toes into on the beach but do not want to watch your tires sink in to on the trail. Which of course, gave rise to Challenges #3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10: falling. Eight times. Which, in the name of coming full-circle, gave rise to Surprise #2: The Salsa Cycles Fargo Ti is light enough to flip over with one hand out of anger/frustration while you simultaneously spit out a mouthful of sand.**

However, before you start to feel sorry for me, there were also Successes #3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10: getting up, relatively unharmed even. Seven out of the eight times, I was even laughing as I got up, as a fall in deep sand is the slowest, least graceful kind of fall. Material suitable for a Monty Python film, if there was a Monty Python movie about bikes.

Challenge #11: Dried mud tracks with deep, rough ridges.

 

What you cannot see so well in the very right hand of this photo is the 2 inches of wet mud I dropped that left hand in on the way down. What you can see is Success #11: a thumbs up. 

Challenge #12: One fall was so hard, the seat post dropped about an inch and twisted about 30 degrees. But we had a multitool along and a quick trailside repair had us going again in under 2 minutes. My first on-the-trail bike fix? Success #12. 

Surprise #3: This area we drive over all the time without giving it more than a thought on our way in or out of the suburbs is actually a really neat place. I don't know if I would describe it as 'beautiful,' although maybe more sunshine in my sky and less sand in my drawers would change my mind. But it definitely felt like a mini-adventure, at an appropriate skill-level where I wasn't terrified the entire ride. We even stopped to enjoy some scenery. 

[An aside about the shirt I am wearing. If you know me at all, you were totally prepared for a tangent in an already multi-themed post.] My parents just got me this shirt for my birthday, which was 2 weeks ago. It says, "Live life like a 3-1 count." I realize this is mixing sports metaphors, but hang in there. In softball/baseball, 3-1 (3 balls, 1 strike) is best known as a "hitter's count" because the pitcher is either going to walk you on ball 4 our throw you a nice juicy strike that they are probably hoping you watch, but tends to be supremely hittable. Either way, as a batter, you're probably goin' places with the very next pitch. So even though this shirt is never-been-worn-brand-new, I sort of felt I had to wear it today. The trip to the Divide, the prep along the way, the trying something new and scary... this is all living life like a 3-1 count. Thanks, Dad and Mom! 

Surprise #4: There was no crying. Which may not surprise some of you, but probably should. Because I am a lady who loves a plan and who loves to be good at things and is somewhat terrified of gravity and falling. If you are keeping score, you will remember that about 6 months ago, I cried ALL the way down a green-circle ski hill before I ever even fell out of sheer terror. Mathematically, statistically, theoretically, I should have cried today. Color me the most surprised by this.

Challenge #13: Ah, lucky number 13 comes to us from our garage, after returning home. As I a reassembling the bike, I knock a brake pad loose. I have never fixed any type of brake before, and certainly not a brand new disc brake. But 2 brains, 1 multitool, and 1 "Well, for fucksake, you piece of shit bike" we got it back together! Success #13: Teamwork.

Overall, the fearlessness I felt about mountain biking on Saturday is gone. In a healthy gone, kind of way. There are definitely things, even on these pretty easy trails to be afraid of: sand, really uneven track, super steep hills, the dead snake. But instead of replacing that fearlessness with fear, I think it has been filled with confidence: I can bike my way out of most sand, and if I don't, then I am just going to fall 3 feet into a big dusty cloud. Or a mud puddle. Or whatever. But it's not going to be the end of the world. It might be clumsy, it might be embarrassing, but if I recall correctly, learning sometimes feels a bit clumsy and embarrassing.

Onward to more mini-adventures, and to only falling SIX times next time!

*Is it any question why I wanted a bike called the Fargo? With a handlebar design called The Woodchipper? C'mon, that's funny. 
**Surprise 2.1: No bikes were harmed in this moment of outrage.