In fall of 1989 I bought my first mountain bike. A Muddy Fox. When I first started riding I was still skating so lycra was way out of the question. I was strictly vans, baggy shorts and t-shirts. A few years later, I would meet one of my biggest influences Andrew Mein, who would say that lycra wasn’t punk or stylish as baggy shorts, but then neither was a chapped ass. So I started wearing lycra.

Next came the road bike. Never envisioned myself wanting, or riding a road bike, but sure enough I ended up with one. Still remember that first long road ride. I had just come off of an all night shift at work; Diane let Andrew, Nick, Dirty Stephan, and Matt Card into the apartment. They tormented, pestered me, kicked me and did anything they could to keep me from going to sleep until I agreed to go. We did 85 miles heading out to turkey point that day. I suffered like a pig. A pig that had been awake for 24hrs straight. That was a great ride.

I can clearly hear Andrew’s voice encouraging me to be a “complete cyclist” and refuse to be pigeon holed as either a mountain biker or a roadie. Hmm, I wonder if the guys on the Team DE rides ever thought I was a roadie showing up with my dirty shoes, and muddy helmet. I bought into Andrew’s philosophy, and frankly still believe there is truth in his words.

Over the years I fell in love with racing, and the process involved. I loved learning the process of getting stronger getting fitter. The annual cycle of resting, and building, of training and over training, of pushing the limits of what I thought I could do. As a beginner I never thought I'd be a sport rider. As a sport rider I never thought I could be an expert. As an expert I never believed that I could be a single speeder. But dedication to the process allowed me to continue to evolve and develop as a rider. Sometimes I felt like I loved the process as much as I loved the races. The annual planning, the race selections, the training, and finally the pay off of showing up for the first race of the year.

The road bike was instrumental in this process. LSD rides were much more manageable, and with the right group down right enjoyable. Still, the road bike was still just a means to the end. Enough quality time on the road bike allowed me to do the things I wanted to do on the mountain bike.

Don’t get me wrong, I have tons of respect for the road, and road racers. I spent a season focused on road racing, and got my ass handed to me. I learned a lot that year which helped me to become much more well rounded as a cyclist. I am proud of the work I did as a domestic for my teammates. We won races. that was cool.

Right now, I’m kinda on the bench, and my motivation, my thoughts are not as much about racing, as just getting myself back into the woods. I want to get back to riding 3 days a week. I have to be honest, not one of those days do I want to be on the road.

Saturday night, I had totally planned on heading out to Willowdale Road ride with my friends. Trails were too wet and the road was really the only option. I called my buddy James. I had full intentions of making that ride. I listened to James, who has started his base miles describe his plan. He passionately professed his desire to put in long steady miles. His mission was clear. Mine was not. My motivation waned. He was looking at 4 hours on the bike. When he shared this with me, a little voice in my head screamed, “4 hours! That’s 240 minutes !” I felt my heart sink into my stomach. Kind of, ashamed, feeling almost dirty I balked. I felt my legs tremble and my motivation disappear. In that moment, I talked myself out of the ride. I slept in the next morning.

As the weather reports look to a cold weekend, and finally produce frozen trails, I have a little more pep in my step. I smile with the thought of carving the single track at Fairhill, or middle fun. It is in this moment, that I know I have failed as a cyclist. It is at this moment, I know the truth. The road bike is a necessary evil for me. The road bike is a tool; it is a means to the end. For me it is the greatest place to become a stronger rider. It is however, not where my heart is. For me it is part of a process for which I am not using right now. The truth was clear, and undeniable. Maybe more so now than at anytime in the past 5 years.

At the core of it all, I am a mountain biker.