Lost and found

I've never been a particularly skilled technical rider. I can't rail turns, I don't really get air, and drops and steps frustrate me to no end. Nevertheless, I was floored by what a klutz I was at the Sweetwater Preserve this morning. I went right for the Lost Arrow Trail, hoping that my reduced bulk would be like a rocket assist on the climb.

Nope.

Sure, I felt strong, but I started with the dabs on some of the early, barely-rocky parts and things just devolved into a series of near-bails from there. I couldn't blame my lung cavity (which might be on its way out anyway), the side effects of my diabetes meds (I ate enough to bonk-proof myself), the slack angles and limousine wheelbase of my 29er trail bike, my recalcitrant cleats, the winds, or the wildfire smoke. I just had no flow whatsoever.

I checked my records when I got home and found that the last time I'd ridden the more technical parts of Sweetwater was in January of 2011. Apparently, and without realizing it, I've spent the last 18 months becoming a fire road specialist. So now, in addition to my relentless pursuit of cummuting miles, I'm going to try and re-learn how to ride a mountain bike on actual mountain bike-type terrain.