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barbie loves ken |
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There's always two ways to do things. There's the right way. And then there's the wrong way...By a girl... Mountain biking is supposed to be fun - extreme sports, snowboarding, bungee- jumping, roller-blading and all that. But what if you're shackled to a "bikie" who's into that whole Pepsi Max scene and your idea of a bike ride is a nip to the nearest cafe on your Raleigh three-speed shopper? Basically you've had it. As a non- mountain biker who thought it might be fun to have a go and has an anorak to live with, things couldn't look bleaker. I'm not against the idea of mountain biking, but if everyone you know does the sport, how do you shake off the novelty interest you invariably attract as a novice? "Yep, OK, I'll have a go", is the first step, and without fail the worst, as you have now admitted that you want to become "one of them". Does anyone remember the Stepford Wives? The next is to decide whether to throw yourself into it wholeheartedly (ooh, expensive!) or, as in my case, just dabble as you know you'll always be at the back and more often than not 3 hours behind everyone else. So, what to do next? Especially if you want to get on a bike, ride around a bit and then put the thing back in the shed - sorry, but maintenance ain't my bag- if he wants me to ride a bike that much, then he can learn to love fixing it for me too... How about the "I'm not as fit as you are" approach? This lets you off the hook for those epic 6am Sunday morning sprees up lngleborough - but remember, the fitter you get the more those jaunts are mentioned. Next you say "I don't have the equipment". This only works for a limited period as a woman's saddle is not exactly the most expensive piece of kit and when you have a tandem, no doubt your "better half' will have modified it to their standards anyway. Next try the "I don't have anything to wear" routine. You can get away with this one for quite some time and it also ensures that your biking experiences will be limited to dry weather trips to coffee shops on the flat. The problem is there eventually comes a time when you have to get the kit. And it couldn't be worse - believe me. Standing in shops like a showroom dummy with your boyfriend trying out cycling tops, shorts, helmets and whatever else he can find against you makes you feel like a Barbie doll. If only he was as good-looking as Ken... Another problem is bike-speak, and this is where you need your invaluable Duffer's Guide to Mountain Bike Jargon. Unfortunately this has still to be compiled by someone in the know - so in the meantime just look for a sympathetic party. So when the conversation inevitably turns to "one of cross beams gone out o'skew on't treadle" then you can swot up and hopefully throw some comment into the conversation with a semblance of understanding. If you don't understand the answer just say "hmm" in a knowing way, furrow your brow, nod sagely, and suggest a cup of tea and some flapjack at Wilfs (cf Duffer's Guide). The other problem is crashing and the "comparing the scars" talk. The only person I know who makes crashing and breaking bones sound funny dropped the habit after he spent some time in hospital himself. Unfortunately I still need to overcome the "I'm going to fall off and everyone will laugh because I don't know my STX from my XTR" syndrome. And I'm sorry, but I've taken quite a shine to my bodily parts, which I spend a lot of money looking after and are usually in the right places, so epic downhills are right out. To end it all, I could get into the mountain biking scene if I was left to my own devices, but could have someone to do all my mechanicing. But it looks like I'm stuck with Mr Keen Mountain Biker for a while, so if I'm going to be treated like a Barbie doll then I'm bloody well going to dress like one. I'll be the miserable looking bird in bright pink on the back of a tandem... A cheery wave and a sympathetic, knowing look would be appreciated. February 1998
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