Claire learned to hike her mountain bike riding the Bridle Path with her friend Derek. They were both six years old and there were more than a few sections that they couldn’t pedal those little 20″ wheels to roll up and over. The compact was simple. If they were stuck, really stuck, they could ask for help. But, they had to try and get their own bikes up the hill first.
To say that Claire received a crash course in hike-a-biking is not an exaggeration. More than once she needed help after she slipped a foot and her bike decided to fall on top of her. There were plenty of laughs and a few frustrated tears and that’s life. She learned that having a good attitude overcomes many obstacles and, like it or not, sometimes we need a hand up.
This Saturday was a rare one where I wasn’t turning wrenches in the shop and the day’s plans were simple. Breakfast, hit the minimum caffeine threshold after working late writing, take Claire to her swimming, delicious sandwiches at Queensdale Market*, then home for a one-hour chillout with books, prep bikes, and hit the trails on Mt. Fromme.
It was one of those perfect days. Sun shining, nice little breeze, warm enough to rock shorts but not truly sweaty even with a solid output. The dirt was fantastic. Claire was dancing on her pedals. The combination of re-positioning the pins on her new Contact pedals and getting in a pile of pedaling lately has resolved the landmarking issues she was having with her fresh, larger, kicks and platforms.
*[I had the smoked turkey on a cheese bun – mustard, mayo, dill pickles, cucumber, tomato, S&P, and a little dollop of horseradish. Claire had Italian wine salami on a cheese bun – mayo, dills, cucumber, tomato, S&P.]
We had just turned onto the Baden Powell trail portion of the No Quarter Climb when we had cause to pull over for another traveler quickly overtaking us. Seat down. Knees out. Sitting and pedaling in full TURBO mode. The BroPed loudly tossed some of Peter’s fresh work in our direction while the rider used the whole trail to elevator himself past us faster than I’ve seen any eeb tackle that section.
I was momentarily fired up and feeling ranty about the whole conceptual claim of a ‘pedal assist’ to make up for lost jam, manage injuries, or increase accessibility in a mountain biking environment. If that’s what riders really wanted there’d be any number of actually-light +100 Watt rigs with small capacity batteries that could seamlessly provide the speed of a very fit cyclist to anyone riding a bicycle for a miniscule weight penalty. What folks are buying ain’t that. But, I digress. In a breath that feeling had passed but there was still an air that we should do something different.
We don’t normally ride mid-afternoon on a Saturday, and the climb trail was much busier than we’re used to. We had both passed and been passed by other riders, including a couple of friendly BroPeders heading up in ‘Eco’ or ‘Trail’ mode – still very brisk but not out of control insanity – so I suggested to Claire that we tackle something a little more off the beaten path.
My pitched route would mean walking a handful of sections on the descent that wouldn’t be in her wheelhouse – I’d be happy to help her with her bike as needed – and then a healthy hike-a-bike up a steep and rugged part of the Baden Powell to get back to Dream Weaver. By that time the mountain would have emptied out as folks went home for dinner and chances are we wouldn’t see another mountain biker.
Claire was all in and we swapped hike-a-bike stories as we cranked up to explore some new-to-her riding. Once she found her groove on the descent she rode more than I’d anticipated and needed help with her bike less than I’d have expected – both down and back up. Nice. There was no complaining, but she sure was stoked when on our hoof back up she caught sight of familiar pedal-your-bike-friendly territory.
On the drive home, Claire was talking a million miles an hour about how all her experiences pushing her bike up the Bridal Path with Derek had prepared her for efforts like today. That is until she phased out for half our trip. Exhausted. She used to regularly fall asleep in the car after those efforts with Derek too, leaving nothing behind on the trail.
We arrived home and worked together to quickly unload our gear. And when everything was safely stowed, she smiled at me and said “That felt like an adventure.” Yes. Rad.
Hike-Your-Bike.
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