I’d like to think that I’m not the personification of a filing cabinet stuffed full of hang-ups like some kind of even less fun C-3P0, but I certainly have my moments. When it comes to mountain biking, the thing that’s been a powerful over-focusing point for me my whole adult life is not being ‘that guy*’ on the bougie super-sled with a rear shock worth more than my kid or partner’s whole basic rig saying “the rock face rolls totally smooth!”  

*always a dude.

I could tell endless stories. Buddy on his loaded Flatline ‘coaching’ his panic-stricken new-to-riding girlfriend through the finer points of a rugged section on Pipeline while her ancient 80mm travel 3D-Link Element squeaks and groans in protest on her behalf. That Dad on his 10K MEGAtower telling his son to “sack up.” The number of times some dude bought a fresh ultra-rig and then ordered a minimal bolt-check on his total f***ing roach to give to his wife because it would be “good enough for her.” 

My (least) favourite, and I’ve come across this so. many. times. working in shops is ‘sir’ who wouldn’t change his own brake pads out of deference to having his rig running perfectly but does all the maintenance on his partner’s bike. I’ve been asked at least twice on the trail to have a “quick look” at what ended up being all-but-seized brakes with both pads rubbing rotors after hubby swapped them out for fresh without resetting the pistons. I distinctly remember those two cases because both boys where customers at the shop I worked at and wouldn’t have installed their own lock-on grips.

Speaking of lock-on grips. Ladies and children, don’t be alarmed, but he just might be trying to cause you an accident? How hard is it to give your wife’s grips a twist after you tighten them to make sure they aren’t going to slip off, Mark?

Last week the Clairebarian wanted to go for a quick rip after school on a Wednesday, but I was taking a short break from my rigid bike – I know, right? – so grabbed my Rifty (Darkzone) since that was ready to roll. It’s a super fun mountain bike but I don’t really enjoy riding it with Claire, where she’s trying new things and riding as smooth as she can on her hardtail and I’m just coasting along on my couch. 

I find it disconnecting from the experience, especially in those rare moments when she asks to see me roll something and I feel like a total cheater. As we pass other riders, up or down, I feel judged. F***, I feel judged by random hikers, dog walkers and their charges, squirrels in trees, and those birds that make a chortle-PING sound in the distance. And yes, I know that’s called projection. 

I know some folks avoid this by putting their kids on full suspension bikes but in addition to the budget – both up front and with increased maintenance – I’m one of those old weirdos who thinks there’s a lot of be learned from riding a hardtail. 

We arrive back to the parking lot and I’m hanging our rigs onto our North Shore Rack when the rider, just arrived, next to use points at Claire’s bike and says “that’s a sweet kid’s bike! Did it come like that stock?” No. We chat a little bit about the various components – Gift Your Guides! – and then he looks at my Rift Zone and says “and you have the full suspension version? Nice.” 

Nice. I glance around feeling totally seen. Yep, being ‘that guy.’