Zen and the Art of Dirt

Let's start with a koan today, students: If a bike falls in the forest and no one is there to see it, did it really fall?

Not yesterday.

Nobody was skating 35 millimeter wheels off-camber down a hill of big roots covered with pine needles yesterday, just to see if he could stay upright. Thus, nobody slid slowly and inevitably onto his side and shoulder, and no one heard no one quoting, "OOOMPH," or some such like that.

Zen tip number one for dyed-in-the-wool-jersey roadies just building basic dirt skills: Hit the trails early. Mountain bikers are slackers, and will never show up before 10 a.m.

You see? Nothing never happened yesterday, because no one was present to hear that nothing.

That was my one fall (kidding -- never happened!) on an early, bright-hot Saturday morning in the Valley. I rolled out feeling sluggish and surly, realizing only just before the trailhead that I'd skipped morning coffee. Twenty minutes after a quick espresso at Atkins Farms market found me picking up speed on the local trail network, a smile spread over my grizzled mug.

I'm so thoroughly enjoying my study of dirt. I haven't learned much at all yet, but everything so far seems like corollaries of what I think are fast becoming the two Universal Principles of Dirt: 1) Steer with your hips and head; and 2) keep moving, a little faster than you think is sane. Here are some of the declensions:

- Handlebars are not for steering. Sit back in the saddle and use your hips, or put weight on one of your pedals. If you have enough momentum and your weight in the right place, the front wheel will flow in the right direction (overall), no matter how rooty or washed out the trail. A light touch on the bars at most (especially when your bike is fully rigid and thin-tired; your arms and legs are your shocks. Be very nice to them.). Body English, first, last and always

- Center of gravity is everything; wither goes thy tanden, so goes thy bicycle.

- The old chestnut, "Look where you want to go," could not be more true. The sharper the turn, the more you need to point your head through the apex (my shoulders and hips tend to follow -- that's a lot of why). Like most of Zen, and most of dirt-riding, it's counter-intuitive, but works like a stinkin' charm.

- Momentum will cover a multitude of sins in line-picking (though a better line will always win in the end). If you don't got the mo' when you need it, you'll have to manufacture it, with a sudden surge. This will make you strong -- eventually. Better yet, if you really want to stay upright, is to just go a little faster generally. Counter-intuitive, right?

- Braking is not helpful for anything except a full stop, or scrubbing speed before a sharp turn. You can't do just about anything else well or safely while you're braking. If you're scared, don't brake -- look more closely where you're going. And let up on those handlebars!

- Finally, don't leave yourself in too low a gear; you might not be able to power through that next scary patch. Again, not logical; I mean, if you're in trouble, you want to be able to turn the pedals quickly, right? Wrong; you'll spin and spin and go three miles per hour, and the lack of momentum will land you in the dirt (at best).

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Like a new disciple, I'm zealous, proud, and full of knowledge today. But that wise old master, the Mountain, just sits placidly and smiles, knowing that tomorrow, bike and body are bound to part in a fascinating new way. And that, too, will be learning, will it not, Daniel-san?

I'll leave you with some images from the ride. I'm off to trap a fly between a pair of hex wrenches.