why do you ride?

on rediscovering guileless joy and the lake charlotte mini epic

The first time I did it, I had never felt so free. My smile, laughter and sense of pride are all imprinted on my soul. That evening was a defining one in my life. Anything else I did after that was merely an echo of that initial bliss.

My father had gone inside to put the tools away. Furtively, I threw my leg over the saddle. With one foot on my left pedal, I stepped forward lifting my right foot from the ground and onto the other pedal.

Pedal

Pedal

Pedal.

Glide.

I was doing it?

This wasn’t difficult.

The pillows that I imagined bringing from the house to line the walkway were unnecessary. My dad hanging onto the seat was unnecessary too.

For that I’m grateful. My dad’s never owned a bike. Five year old me having only used training wheels was a more experienced rider than he was. With his help things wouldn’t have been as fun. With his help I don’t think I would have been as shocked or satisfied.

I rode all night till it was dark. I rode the next day and the next day and the next day and the next day.

Three months and four tires later I killed that bike.

No. There were no acts of maliciousness. I didn’t abuse the bike. With so much use, I wore the damn thing out.

That summer we raced bikes to see who was fastest. Often it was me. Sometimes it wasn’t. It didn’t matter as we launched ourselves into the next experiment: Flight. We built jumps out of dirt. We built them out of stacked boards. We improvised leaping off curbs and rock walls. We jumped our bikes and crushed our nuts. We concussed our heads and tore our knees to shit. It was glorious.

Jumping and racing were grand but as a child I was driven by a sense of curiosity and freedom.

On this thing, I can go so much further than just walking What’s around the next corner? Will I get beat up? Will I be able to ride home? I’m so far away, will they even find me if they tried?

Sure I was less than a mile away but as a six year old, I would travel further than the school, further than the candy store - further than I’d ever dare go before having a bike - further than any kid raised today in North America would be allowed to go on their own at six years old.

Now?

Now with no restrictions I still love bikes.

I’m not one for racing. Jumps are fun when they’re mellow and easy to handle for a broken old man.

But exploring?

I still love indulging my love of freedom and sense of curiosity while in the saddle.

People have been asking about the Lake Charlotte Mini Epic Mountain Bike Adventure. Is it a race? How fast do you go? What’s the pace like? Are there any features like big jumps, drops or rock rolls along the way?

I laugh and tell them this:

Remember the first time you rode a bike without training wheels. Remember the feeling of accomplishment and sense of possibility that washed over you when you did it? Remember the joy of exploring? Remember what it was like when you just couldn’t be reached? A mile away from a telephone, you might as well be on the other side of the earth. That’s what this is about. By disconnecting from the grid and spinning off into the woods, you’ll connect with a long lost treasured part of yourself.

This event is a grind.

Come and grind away the years of responsibility, expectations and knowing.

Spin with us into the unknown. Explore and enjoy acres of possibility. Reconnect with that part of you that might not be able to fly, but has a pretty good idea of what that ‘feels like’.

Come join me on the Lake Charlotte Mini Epic.

And if bikes aren’t your speed?

What do people around you do that is complicated by rules and competition and social status?

What has been ruined by people taking the joy of a child and making it serious?

How can you get back to basics, disconnect from beliefs, status and ‘shoulds’ and just go out and have some guileless fucking fun.

Go ride your bike.

AND DON’T WEAR A HELMET.