Bikes!

Last month Karl and I camped at Red Top Mountain. While we were there, we hiked the "Iron Hill Trail." For the past month we have been wanting to go back and ride our bikes on it. It's short. It's flat. It is pretty perfect for an eight year old's first off road biking experience; we call it "maize". Oh, I mean, we call it "mountain biking".

I figure if something is worth doing, it is worth doing half assed. So, I pulled out my old mountain bike, a 1992 Canondale with pedals with no cages and a rusty chain, and we hit the trail. I will have to say that the bike has amazing brakes. Cantilever! I need to go back to those.

You might have guessed from the first picture that something did not go right. A quarter mile into the ride, we hit our first down hill. Karl rode into a gully and crashed. I suggested that a dragon bit Karl's tire and that made him crash, but he was having none of it and he said that stupid gully made him crash. He did say that he disappeared into the underworld for a bit and had to come back. Then he said something about going to a pizza palace, but I was still thinking about him going to the underworld and how interesting that might be.

Anyway, after his crash, he was pretty bummed. I mean, a five minute bike ride and then a crash? What is this all about? Bike riding in the mountains sucks dad! He really wanted to end it and go home.

But!! He bucked up and we rode on. He was not entirely enthused at first. The long pants and the scraped knee were not a good mix. Whatever kid.

We rolled up his pant leg and soon the boy had his confidence back up and he was riding like a pro. There was only one tricky downhill with a turn where he might have finally learned the importance of a front brake. After a while, I even got enough confidence to ride next to him on occasion.

The ride just got better.

And better!

Look at him go!

Final opinion? Approval!