We were fighting a few weeks back. Me, with my shiny new road bike, thinking "well, she is faster than you and I don't get that dirty riding her." My mountain bike with it's evil, broken pedals and heavy frame saying, "you used to like suffering and getting all scrapped up."
We've been liking the rocks again. And the roots. We've been finding cool trails together. Trails that twist so closely around trees that my arms scrape, so relentless with sketchy rocky sections, followed by steep climbs, ones that are empty with no other fool hardy folks bearing our heavy burden.
The heavy burden of learning to love your mountain bike again. To be better than you once were.
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