âEvery time I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer despair for the future of the human raceâ – H. G. Wells.
I am crazy about mountain biking (MTBing). For me, it is not a pastime, neither a sport, nor a recreational diversion. It is all of these, and more. MTBing is as intrinsic to life as taking a gulp of rain-cleansed air. The moment the wheel became part of human technology, the bike was on the drawing board; Homo Pedes, the footslogger, was soon to become Homo Rota, the cyclist. A most advanced stage in our evolution.
By Alexx Zarr
Quite often I am asked, âWhat do you love about mountain biking? Why are you always on your bike?â Subsidiary questions and comments include referrals to a range of cycling items and behaviours. These include things such as; you sit on that tiny, hard saddle for how many hours? Isnât it is a recipe for hi-jackings and muggings? How the beep-much did you pay for that bicycle â as much as a thing with an engine! Eish, men in tights â ugly! You carry a camel pack with a bladder filled with FIT? You have CO2 bombs in that backpack â are they WMD? And so it goes, with a smile and a shrug.
I have persuaded the owners, managers, the bosses of BizNews, that the site deserves to have a weekly blog covering mountain biking matters. They have been agreeable, granting me space to hang myself. I am terribly pleased to be put to the test.
Seeing that this is going to be a weekly blog, I have decided to start with the basics. If, for some readers it feels like I am taking coals to Newcastle, bear with me.
Allow me to attempt to answer a fundamental question: What is mountain biking? For me, it is about places beyond the horizon; places that are often inaccessible to other forms of transport, except maybe very sore feet, if one has lots of time. MTBing is a heady cocktail of anticipation, exhilaration, anxiety, agony, camaraderie, and triumph. It is exploring and developing ones character through self-discovery, discipline, learning, humility and respect. It is about a sense of freedom from the routines, places and behaviours of our other hours.
Mountain biking is about honesty; each rider has to do their own work â there is nowhere to hide.
There are the other things that comprise MTBing. Yes, there are actually bits and pieces that make up an all-terrain bicycle. There are two big wheels with fat-ish, knobbly tyres, connected by a frame and a drive chain between peddles and the rear wheel. Throw in some form of gearing, for most frames, and a set of brakes, although they just slow one down. Handlebars help to steer the contraption. Oh, and then there is an item that is rather important, even if its name is a misnomer – a saddle. Imagine sitting on a sliver of carbon that weighs 150 grams â that is the equivalent of a medium-sized apple â and is about the extent and shape of an adultâs hand, for eight hours, and over terrain that only mountain goats can traverse.
While the quality of the ride is certainly influenced by the level of technology in the odds and ends that comprise a bike, it is more about the rider than the mechanicals. I appreciate this fact each time a fitter, more skilled and daring rider, on a much lower-spec bike than mine, trashes me. However, that said, if one is a high-level racer, every gram that the bike and rider can shed is a boon. MTBers who agonise about mass, and dip deep into their wallets to reduce milligrams are called weight-weenies. For every gram of bike mass you care to reduce, at least double the cost of the lighter item. For those of us who donât have fat wallets, we simply have to lose flab.
South Africa is MTBing heaven. We have zigzagging footpaths and meandering cattle tracks, rugged mountains and shallow rivers, pine forests and arid spaces. Private landowners and conservancies often open their gates to share their precious land. Riders from across the globe enjoy our fauna and flora. Olympic Champions spend summers honing their fitness and skills.
MTBing has expanded rapidly in South Africa over the past five years. In 2013, out of every 100 bicycles sold, about 75 are MTBs. Ten years ago, only 10% were MTBs. Just about every weekend of the year there are MTB events somewhere across the country. Arguably, we have more MTB events than any other country. These range from the single-day kind to multi-day stage races. Each year more events are added to the mix, making a truly delectable menu. Sadly, time and money runs out long before the choices do.
My MTBing life started in August 2006. I was gifted a Giant ATX in orange livery, by my local gym; for renewing my membership. I was a runner-gym person. What would I do with this wheeled thing? My brother thought he would help me out. He suggested we do âa little jauntâ. It turned out to be the To Hell and Back MTB Stage Race, scheduled for the second weekend in November of that year.
I could fill pages of incidents and experiences describing this adventure. I may do that on another occasion, but suffice to say, that this was a perfect case of the sum being greater than the parts. For a raw novice, getting into The Hell was easier than getting out â is that not how life should be â but it totally hooked me. My running shoes began to collect dust, while my entry-level MTB was given constant attention.
It is seven and a bit years later; I still love to ride my bike to places beyond the horizon. It is glorious heaven on earth.
I assign the postscript to an edited version of lyrics from QueenâŚIâm in Love with my Bike (Car)
The machine of a dream, such a clean machine,
With the legs a pumpin’, and the hubs all gleam.
When I’m holding you close,
All I hear is your gear,
With my hands on your bar-ends,
Oh it’s like a disease son.
I’m in love with my bike,
Get a grip on my bling racer rolling,
Such a thrill when your Maxxis squeal.
(I) Told my girl I just had to forget her,
Rather buy me a new derailleur,
So she made tracks sayin’ ths is the end now,
Bikes don’t talk back they’re just two wheeled friends now.
