Big Biking

It is 8:30 in the morning I find myself spread out on the floor of our hotel room. With my legs and hands sore as can be I forget the very important fact that we will be mountain biking today. I bring myself to my feet and take a shower. I stroll slowly over to breakfast where my relatives are eating and gorging themselves before the big day. We start on the road heading towards the mountain and through the Snake River bridges. We park at the base of the mountain and get ready. I get out of the car with my bright yellow helmet and my Mike Ditka aviator sunglasses. We get to the bike rental spot I notice the many very skilled and ready to go bike riders. I fall short by a mile and a half compared to them. A nice perfect day makes me feel more optimistic than I usually would feel. We start to bike over to the chairlift, my uncle, dad, two brothers and I bike over to the lift. All the woman and my grandfather decided to take a hike down the mountain. We make it to the lift then we head to the lift, bikes in hand sunscreen applied and confidants way up. The sun and sky is great, but my experience won't be the best. Traveling down the trail titled "easiest way down" that is a lie. Bumps curves and dirt slow the process way down, as I turn a corner I feel something wrong. Suddenly I flip off my bike and roll on the ground. I knew this was going to happen but not on the first run of the day. The second run brought us through gravel and mud muck like the third trail. But on the fourth trail I was lucky I didn't die. Huge rocks, logs and piles of dirt can stop even the most thrill seeking biker out there. Traveling up and down through the forest. Some sweat, tears and a few curse words later, I finally make it without falling too much. The mountain bikers are waiting for the rest of the crew to call it a day. We all walk back everyone sore from walking of biking we pile into the car and go home. I guess mountain sports just aren't my thing.



Noah Reynolds