As if I didn't have enough on my plate, I over-anxiously await the arrival of a simple (yet now-a-days impressively complex to tell the truth) item which opens a world of interest and taps a deep root in my soul, an interest that for many, many youthful years consumed me... the bicycle. The basic design, which hasn't changed much in the last hundred years or so led me to believe that the first bike I've purchased in almost a dozen years would be a reasonable venture. In the late 1990's I, a native (or as close as most anyone is) of Colorado purchased my first true mountain bike. Back during the days of Missi Giovi and Ned Overend (both locals, both of whom would never remember me but I've shared a trial with once or twice), before the days of the x-games, there was my little town of Durango, which still exists as one of (if not "the") mountain biking capitals of the world. And I was right there with my Raleigh Aluminum Hardtail with RockShox Mag 21's, Deore components and grip shifts. It cost me a grand. I paid for it myself (mostly, thanks DAD :).
Having explored other options through my 20's, like my 1150GS which moves with a twist of the wrist instead of the press of a leg, I walked away from cycling a number of years ago... I don't even own a bicycle anymore... well... sort of...
Because I own a bike now, except it's not here yet. On it's way from California, this is the item I await patiently. I walked into the venture looking for a decent bike for both myself and my wife. As I am years out of any serious time or interest in the subject, I consulted those much more familiar with the subject than me. Not wanting to say too much, I am happy with what I paid for both my wife and I... however, I must say it is twice what I was expecting and about a sixth of what I could have. See, the problem with living in the self proclaimed mountain biking capital of the world is that you cannot purchase a bike here for less than many, many thousands of dollars. I am surrounded by "pro's." I don't know what being a "pro" mountain biker means. I suppose it is like being a "pro" skier or "pro" rock climber, it means you might get your photo in a magazine some day, and a few pieces of free equipment, but that's it (unless you're Shaun White of course). That's not the point though, the purists of Rocky Mountain sports do it simply to be with the dirt they love so much (and this mindset is not limited to those in my state of course, although you east coasters who rock the Appalachian and I have great respect for that amazing stretch of God's creativity you get to enjoy as it is possibly unparalleled in beauty but please understand that I've lived the Appalachian too, and it's a different league out here).
Despite my deviation from the point, which I often never have, the bicycle is on the way. My wife's is too. She's a New-Englander and having lived in the Denver area for a number of years despite my arguments regarding winter sports, they have us beat (as far as "resort" activities go). I hate to admit it, but thanks to her I've now been to the Vail's and Breck's and they're just plain better than our Purgatory and Wolf Creek (although I would heavily argue that as a purist you will find better backcountry around the mountains in Silverton CO than ANYWHERE else in the lower 48). So if you want to hit a park in the winter go north, however, you want to ride singletrack in the summer, you come here. And my New-Englander wife, who has taken to the western lifestyle faster than anyone I've ever met in the brief few years she's lived here is perhaps even more excited than I. My only fear is that my fat ass won't be able to keep up with her on the trails I could enjoy all-but blindfolded as a youth.
