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Down in the Dirt
by
Timm Muth
A
monthly article by the author of Mountain Biking in North
Carolina. Rants, raves, reviews and chain grease.
Wherever You Look, There You Go
March 2003
Ok, so you're finally getting this mountain biking thing down, traveling at a good pace, coursing through the trees. You haven't fallen down yet, and you're feeling pretty perky. Then you round a corner, and remember belatedly about the jumbled boulder field that lies there in wait. And you know you're going way to fast to stop in time.
Quick, before the panic sets in: How do you find the clear line?
Answer: Look for where the rocks aren't.
That may sound like some mountain biking
Zen riddle, but it's definitely your best choice of
actions. This is the key to letting your bike find its
way through the carnage. Just relax your vision a bit,
and look for the clearest line. Don't focus on any one
thing, but just take in the whole scene and let your mind
figure out where the fewest number of obstacles are.
There's almost always some kind of fairly clean line
somewhere running through the roots and rocks. So just
let it reveal itself, and tell your body that that's
where you want to be.
Now I'll repeat this part: DON'T focus on the stuff
you don't want to hit. Cause guaranteed, you stare hard
at that nasty, flat-faced, wheel-bending slab up ahead,
and you can bet your last fig bar that you'll shortly be
running straight into it.
A corollary to this theory is: Don't look down off
the steep side while you're cruising some fast contour
line. Your front wheel will follow your eye, and soon
you'll be taking a seldom used shortcut to the bottom. If
you want to safely enjoy the scenery, stop and point it
out to your crew. Remember: A view to die for really
isn't, so stop and take the time to enjoy yourself and
your surroundings.
Early on in the learning curve, most riders find
themselves thrashing over every rock and root they
encounter. You can exhaust yourself pretty quickly that
way, flailing your arms about, fighting to maintain your
balance and your sense of cool. It ain't a pretty
picture, and you can find yourself exhausted after 30
minutes, while your more-experienced partner isn't even
breaking a sweat yet.
The problem often isn't so much lack of riding
skills; it's that you're so engrossed in the current
obstacle, you never get a chance to see what's coming
next and prepare for that one. Looking right at the end
of your wheel focuses all your attention and will right
there, and often you'll go: "OK, big rock ahead.
Better slow down (first mistake). OK , go around it on
the left. Oop's, there's a sinkhole there. Maybe on the
right instead. Should I loft the front wheel some and try
to ride over it. Ahh! Look At that root behind it. I'd
better
." (Pionk!) Rider glances off
rock, slips on root, thrashes around awhile, then falls
down.
Again, the solution is to not focus too hard on
what's right in front of you. Look out ahead 15 or 20
feet. Recognize what's coming, let it filter through your
brain, let the clearest line appear, then let your body
handle it as you encounter it. At that point, it's now no
longer your brain's problem. Your brain and eyes should
be considering the next rock 15 feet ahead, while your
body deals with whatever you're rolling over at the
moment.
Smooth, easy trail riding just seems to be one of
those things that you can't force, can't analyze, and
don't need to work hard at. So instead of freaking at the
next rock pile, or perhaps stopping to discuss relative
riding difficulties of pointy rock versus slippery root
with yourself, just set all that aside for a bit and try
riding easy. Breathe out, relax your vision a little,
take it all in, and look for where the rocks aren't.
That's where you'll find the most fun, incidentally.
"Bicycles are almost as good as
guitars for meeting girls."
- Bob Weir