Professional freerider/freeskier Mike Hopkins took advantage of the shoulder season to write a few columns; here is one that focuses less on the day-to-day antics of a pro rider, and more on the joys of reading. Read on...
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By Mike Hopkins
Welcome, whomever you may be, to my first official editorial line. I am not going to lie, I am a little stressed. Here I sit, on my deck, twiddling my thumbs while the evening sun tips its hat to the day. Unfortunately I have come to the discomforting conclusion that my literary skills appear to be dependent on the sun. With the light progressively dwindling, the meandering notion that I have somehow acquired a severe case of writers block a mere sentence into my first job leaves me feeling slightly sheepish. Hardly the sparkling intro I was hoping for. Sure enough, as we all know, with blockage comes release. As previously alluded to, this column is a first of sorts for me. It's an opportunity to put the contents of my cranial confines on the printed page, to share a little perspective, to drop some knowledge if you will. But as our world, battered with opinions, inherently teeters towards a too many cooks in the kitchen state, I think I will leave the whimsical tutorials of a freerider securely stowed. Instead, lets keep it light. After all, you are reading a mountain bike editorial.
On that note, magazines...every month the shelves are stocked with the latest versions of disposable inspiration. Wherever you find yourself, whether it be a grocery store, gas station, or mall, these colorful works of marketing genius grab your attention and quietly demand further inspection. Architecture, cuisine, automotive, sport; there is a flavor for everything and everyone. You happen to be reading the latest installment of North Americas mainstay mountain bike mag (not a bad choice, if I do say). Now meddling over these lines, mountain bike enthusiast or not, you have to admire the fact that something drew you to this bound book. Possibly its flashy cover, or maybe something less glamorous, such as providing an impromptu barrier between an awkward encounter with your ex-girlfriend. Regardless of the situation, magazines, all magazines, come hot off the press each and every thirty days with a simple goal in mind: to motivate and inspire.
As for myself, I hold the catalysts of the printed page in the highest regard. They consistently prompt perspective and document marvels of every aspect. The articulate art of journalism can be explained in great depth, but honestly, the majority of those enjoying this magazine want to read about the sport that occupies the desktop day dreamer's cognitive space, materializing somewhere between fine food and well endowed women (or men...), biking.
Like Neverland, bike magazines offer an escape from cities, cars, cubicles, and critics, invoking enlightenment of the Lost Boy persuasion. From wheelies to World Champions, these monthly testaments fill the workday void. Upon the striking of Fridays five oclock freedom, the sultry saturated allure of the forests loamy passageways beckon individual renditions of those glossy, immortalized images in the magazines. We have all felt the uplifting power of photography, the defining sensation of being put face to face with our childhood (or adulthood) heroes. Two dimensional or not, those instrumental images, orchestrated and seemingly tailored to our perspective, unlock the next level of cool and this my friends is the very reason we pick up these shelf dwellers. So on a closing note, do yourself a favor, grab a magazine, get inspired, and make the next ride your own.
Cheers,
Mike
