My First Mountain Bike Experience

By Funky Mountie

“The first time I looked at myself and cycling I compared myself with Lance Armstrong – winner of the Tour de France – and I thought, Oh well, if he can do it, so can I!”

What a huge surprise my bike had when I got on it.  The wheel started trembling under the weight, and was probably saying softly: “Hey, one dude at a time please!”  That didn’t put me off and so there I was, a real Funky Mountain Biker with the clothes and the shining mountain bike, ready to rock and roll!

My buddies, who have been mounties for quite a while, warned me: “Go slow at first.  Don’t come with us.  Rather do a 5 or a 10 kilometre stretch.”  What the hell were they talking about?  Remember I am a Funky Mountie!!

60k’s...  Ha, that’s nothing!  Check me out!  Baggy pants, clippless pedals, new bike without a scracth and a clock to make sure we really do 60 kilometres.  I even looked better than my buddies.  So off we go...

The first 2 kilometres – Hey, check it out, they eat my dust!

5 kilometres – This is not fun anymore.  Where’s that big downhill they bragged about and my bum needs a rest...

7 kilometres – “Is it still a long way to go chaps?”

10 kilometres – My legs are tired and I’m sure my bum is bleeding!

15 kilometres – A far off sound, “Hey dude, your getting far behind!”

20 kilometres – “OK, THAT’S IT!  I’M HEADING BACK TO MY CAR!!!”

Three Hours later – “Thank God, my car...  Oops, all my friends’ cars have been stolen.  Right now I don’t give a &#*$^@# about their cars!  I need a bath!”

I used all my reserve energy to load my bike.  I barely made it back home and never noticed before that my car had such a stiff clutch.  At home I dragged my feet inside, dumped my clothes right there in the hall – to tired to care anyway – and took a long bath.  One hour later I went straight to bed.  About 3 hours later somebody rudely desturbed my sleep.  It was the Mountie gang coming for a braai.  “Ok guys, go ahead enjoy yourself, but without me.  I am dead!”  I went right back to bed.  Luckily the next day was a Sunday, because I needed the rest.

The Sunday I stayed in bed the whole day.  Too stiff and sore to do anything.  Monday came and what a D-day!  Everybody at work laughed as I walked like a robot and slipped in an out of my chair like a lizard.

Tuesday wasn’t any better, still stiff and sore.  Only on the Thursday could I feel again for first time all the parts of my anatomy.

That was my first lesson about mountain biking.  A dreadfull and stupid way of learning to listen to the tough Mounties.  They know, out off experience, what they are talking about!