A Christmas wish to the community from the staff and moderators of Ridemonkey.
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Colors mark the change from season to season. I look out my window in spring to see a swath of green foliage dominating the forest floor, replaced in summer by a dusty brown hue, and in fall it becomes an incendiary golden carpet begging to be disturbed by the rush of moving wheels. By the time winter makes an appearance, color is replaced by what is technically a shade, a ubiquitous envelope of white that removes the forest floor from view. This always returns me to my window, depressed that my bike has gone away, seemingly for good.
Stored deep in the basement, the concrete floor cools the rubber of my beloved machine, cold knocks at the door with a weathered grin, and the bicycle is left to fend for itself in the face of winter’s odious intentions. Eventually, I accept the change and even embrace it for a short while. The bike is away, but life goes on. The mountains still call, snow providing the possibility of turning, once again, down hill to achieve that feeling of euphoria that is usually realized on two wheels.
Inevitably, soon after the initial excitement, comes withdrawal. Lust for the colors of spring or fall, even summer’s cruel umber, builds, and thus the desire to ride is reignited. And so the trainer comes out to in a vain attempt to ward off that unwelcome layer of baggage, but it doesn’t compare to feeling of tires cutting loose underneath you as a corner explodes in a surge of ardor and unrest. Staying still, always approaching the other side of the room but never reaching it, in a paradox of motion the trainer remains.
That woven matrix of white that stops the ride begins to look like an enemy, and in due course, as is the destiny of all things, it decays, leaving behind a barren earth wrapped in the clutches of slush and water. Yet by virtue of the bike, joy can be found in this unpleasant state. It’s still a long way off now, but eventually it will arrive, and the colors will once again return. Their arrival portends the arrival of a long lost friend, the trail. So until that moment, that first ride back on the bike, remember that these months will pass. Take solace in nature’s ability to adhere, however roughly, to an annual schedule that is never ignored.
Happy holidays from everyone at Ridemonkey, and if you can still ride, enjoy it, you’re a lucky individual.
