Am I Lost?

I have spent many years in search of riding Nirvana.

I say searched, which raises visions of some expansive and adventurous endeavour but I have not actually tried that hard. It sounded good as a tag line but, actually, what I’m looking for doesn’t necessarily require much geographical movement (other than the pedal power obvs’) or literal searching.

By Nirvana, I don’t mean the ultimate trail or location; I’m talking more psychologically. A particular place in my mind, where I find happiness and contentment. Counter-intuitively, this is not as simply achieved as just getting on my bike and going for a ride or finding some ultimate trail; but it is a great place to start!



Mountain biking has a well renowned ability to restore peace of mind to those mentally wearisome, acting as a medium for the enjoyment of the great outdoors. It can free your mind of the daily problems and give your grey matter a chance to re-charge. The simple, raw need to process the requirements resultant of your physical exertion can place otherwise distracting issues to the back of ones consciousness, allowing for more freedom of thought.

Mid climb is actually where I have some of my best ideas - be they a design for a new house i’m working on or decisions that have become all-encompassing. On the bike is a great place for quiet contemplation.
 

Be it racing, messing about in the woods or arbitrarily passing through the countryside on a warm spring/summer’s day, Mountain biking can be the conduit to a healthier mind and body (Yes, that’s right. It also has a great ability to make you physically fit and healthy, fancy that).
Originally taking up mountain biking over 20 years ago on a fairly bog standard (but I loved it) Universal hardtail (full-sus didn’t really exist back then) with narrow bars and steep angles (everywhere), one of the aspects that really struck me was the freedom I felt as we headed out from my local village and up in to the hills. For this, I have 2 Uncles and an Aunt to thank who, swallowed up by the late 80’s surge in mountain biking, would set upon themselves the responsibility of looking after me and my two cousins every weekend for a few hours by taking us on rides up in to the hills surrounding Winchcombe, in the Cotswolds.

From this, my passion for mountain has grown ever since. With it an appreciation for all forms of the sport/discipline. Be it a mammoth xc ride or a Downhill session to Freeriding and Enduro. I have even tried jump parks. I simply like riding my bike. Alongside this, I have come to appreciate the carefree, peace-of-mind that comes with it and have become increasingly aware of the benefits it harbours.

I have become more aware of this feeling over the last few years but, due to its absence more than anything. It feels like something has been missing?

There are many different ways of enjoying bikes and no ride is ever a bad ride, as they say; even the bad ones. But no-one really remembers their weekly night ride, or their Sunday morning local. It’s a bit like comparing your evening dinner with going out to a michelin starred restaurant with the wife. Only one winner right? Your local ride is a snack compared with the banquet that is a weekender with the mates. Memories are made through shared experiences; from days on the bike that include your friends and acquaintances.


Like a sinusoidal graph, my life riding can be mapped out in a similar way. I have spent large chunks of my life somewhere between the median line and the lower half of the curve; riding solo. Of these rides, I remember very little specifics. Sure, I can remember all my local loops, I know them like the back of my hand. In the same way, I know what Spaghetti Bolognese tastes like but I couldn’t recall one Bolognese meal from another; they all blend in to one collective memory.

Obviously not every ride is a solo and whilst there have been times of plenty, these have been less frequent than the former. The peaks on the graph are a more acute than the more rounded, lower half; Whilst fewer in number, they represent the vat majority of my riding memories. They represent periods in my life when I was more carefree and at greater peace of mind. It’s great to have riding buddies.

The biggest spike would be a period of some 2 years between 2000 - 2002: sixth form. With a good group of friends, some of whom still are, and lots of free time, memories were made in abundance. After this, life just sort a got in the way. Another spike would see me out on a regular basis with siblings and in-laws over a few years around 2005 - 2008.

During all this time, I have stayed in touch with those pals from sixth form (and I still have siblings). We manage to meet up on a fairly regular basis - usually on Wales trips or other trail centres. Not necessarily often, but regularly. From c.2013, I was fortunate that a few of them moved back to the area and, there followed, another really good patch. We had at least a year or so of weekly group rides. Another spike on the graph.

Over the last few years, however, those friends and family members have moved afield or become burdened with the responsibilities of adulthood or simply lost interest in mountain biking. I myself have recently taken on some of these responsibilities, with a lovely bundle of joy waking me up every night. As such, it has been vastly more difficult to ‘meet up’ and I have therefore, found myself lost in the wilderness. On my own again, riding solo.

During this time, I have found my own motivation fading. There is only so much soul searching that one can take before it just gets boring. I have tried to arrest this decline and reinvigorate my interest by introducing fresh challenges. Strava bashing my local hillsides helped for a short while but that soon wore thin. Having taken the KOM on all the descents (not really interested in the climbs), the interest began to fade again.

It has become clear to me that the social aspect of mountain biking is a crucial aspect in satisfying that little part of my brain that finds happiness and contentment from riding a mountain bike. It’s not just the trail, or the view, or even the bike I’m riding. It’s who I’m sharing it with. Of course, the other bits helps but the friends top trumps every time.

Eventing has become my most recent attempt to test myself. Mass start, endurance type events where the challenges themselves are technically and physically demanding. However, as tough as these events might be (maybe I am just unfit), I found them genuinely more intriguing as a social construct. These events have really hit the mark. Its like taking a quadruple espresso shot when all your used to is decaf tea.

In 2016 I completed the HONC [link here], a local endurance ride through the Cotswolds. In 2017, I added the Dyfi Enduro [link here] to that roster - that was mint and one of the classics. In 2018 me and my longest serving biking buddy, and defacto best mate, took on the Mendip Murmuration. Another mass start type endurance event serving up 57km of singletrack across the Mendip Hill’s, including Cheddar’s infamous Gorge.

Here’s a link to that particular days enjoyment (insert link). Lots of climbing, including one particularly bug hill; One of the hottest days in English meteorological records. My best mate by my side. Oh, and shit loads of descents too, of course. Perfect.

This kind of stuff has tested me. Tested my stamina, my attention. It has engaged my brain and served a thick portion of whatever it was that that particular place in my mind, where I find happiness and contentment, wanted for tea. Next up is the Malverns Classic Enduro. Bring it.