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My husband (the cute one in the tie-dye!) has embraced the sport of mountain biking this year. And although I should be a bit jealous that he now gets out riding more than I do, I’m not. He gets out with the neighbourhood guys and has some heart pounding exercise and great man-bonding time.
Recently they went on a true guy trip up on the mount. pushing their downhill (read: heavy) bikes up the mountain, they decided to get “just a bit further”. I believe one of them may have used the phrase “I know a short cut”.
An hour and a half later into their climb, they finally crested. Tired, hungry, thirsty (REAL men don’t take water on a short trip!) and sore. But they were greeted by a vista that made it all worth while.
It is the things like this that put the icing on the cake of this sport. That, and the fact that you then get to careen down the hill, free of the screaming muscles and left with the feeling of “holy crap! I just climbed a mountain while pushing a 45 lb bicycle!”.
I’ll finish this post off with admitting that I’m not sure I will make that particular climb anytime soon. But I’m glad he did so I could enjoy the picture which was the fruit of his labour.