I got to ride my mountain bike this weekend. We haven't seen one another in a while, but I got her cleaned up and managed almost four hours with only two spills, one pretty bruise, one gouge and a slightly sprained finger.
Now this trail is probably far less than a four hour ride for most folks around here, but you have to start somewhere.
And, yes, I may have uttered "Fuck, yes!" a few times at the top of some successful climbs.
As a bonus, I went for a short walk in some new-to-me open space on the way home and stood in a clearing there watching the remaining mountain bluebirds fight for grasshopper snacks. I wished them a pleasant trip south and headed home exhausted and happy. Some days are just that good.
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