Cage-Fighter Mother
I can't remember what year my mom actually started mountain biking, somewhere in the very late eighties or very early nineties I think. I do recall that we went over to Newton, to what is now my place of employment (yes, I suppose I'm a townie), to get her first mountain bike. She was inspired by the too-big, bright orange Rockhopper I had purchased there some time before (with the money I made painting Stu's parent's kitchen). We wound up getting her a closeout Fisher for around $230; a pretty good deal even at the time.
She rode that thing down to a nub, then she got a very yellow Fisher Kaitai. A while after that I convinced her to go full suspension and disc brakes, putting her on a Specialized FSR with Avid Mechanicals. She accepted the new technologies but still outright refused to ride with clipless pedals; which I can understand. She used to ride with toe clips and straps, but most of the time they were strap side down anyway. More a liability than an advantage.
She has mentioned recently that she might want to get on something lighter, and of course I do have something in mind. It's not a 29er but it'll probably do.
"Cage-fighter mother" my sister called her as she roared past us on a rolling hill shouting "momentum is my friend!" Her completely jacked legs hammering at the pedals. We were all out on a family ride this past Sunday in Dover. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I am not the natural talent in the family. My mom has naturally ripped legs, her calves make mine look like swizzle sticks. My sister has preternatural poise and balance on the bike. That and she has no fear. OK, not just no fear, she is FIERCE — she wants to eye-gouge the trail then kick it in the nuts until it pukes. She rides a handful of times a year and demonstrates skills which took me years to develop. And my brother...what the hell, he doesn't ride a bike, ever, and he kills it. And this while wearing his very own idea of "biking boots."
Do you know how bad my mom is? She hosted a ride and my cousin Will BROKE HIS WRIST before he even made it out of the parking lot! If you're reading this Will....don't feel bad, I once broke my hand riding uphill on a fire road at about 4 miles per hour, not trying to hop a telephone pole at mach 3. Heal up and next time you're out we'll work on how to hop a big ol' log (yes I realize that in the video title the apostrophe is out of place, but it's too much of a pain in the ass to change it now).
Sponsor thank you: Endless Bikes
Last winter I sent an email to Shanna Powell of Endless Bikes, inquiring about sponsorship. I'd been using her products for a while and had already committed to using them exclusively (probably not the best pitch for sponsorship, "ya, I'm going to buy and use your products even if you don't sponsor me, but it'd sure be nice if you did sponsor me."). Kick Ass Cogs are light and smooth and look great to boot. At this point I have a full aray of the things, from 15t to 22t. That's like a whole 8 speed drivetrain! And believe me, I use them all. I'm proud to ride Kick Ass Cogs and represent Endless Bikes!
The Thom Parsons (Bacon Egg & Cheese on a Boston Cream Donut) Project is a go! I have commissioned a cameraman, things are moving forward, so look for that perhaps tomorrow, perhaps later in the week. Depends on what I decide to do with the footage. And although one generous donor has helped "us" meet "our goal," some people are still hitting that donate button (sidebar, upper right, nudge nudge, eh?). "We've" raised over $100 toward The Big Bikes SSWCNZ2010 trip. I haven't looked at plane ticket to New Zealand prices, but I'm pretty sure we're going to need at least THREE TIMES that amount.
2 comments:
I'll donate $$ when you announce the next gross thing you're gonna eat. You forgot the best part about Endless, when you buy an Endless Kick-Ass Cog you are financing, and encouraging, the tutu-wearing, good-time-creating, car-not-having, podium-taking, shredtastic lifestyle of one of NC's greatest bicycle riders.
that looks a lot like my family outings. One kitted out dude and a bunch of ragamuffins having a great time.
In a little over one year of riding, I managed to get my father and brother to compete in a 12 hr race.
Post a Comment