When I was a kid I absolutely detested peanut butter. I'm not sure where this repulsion came from, but I refused to eat it in any form – PB&J, ants on a log, peanut butter crackers – it didn't matter, I wouldn't let even a smidgen of those smashed up legumes into my mouth.
I was reminded of this childhood memory the other day during a group ride. We were discussing possible route options, and I suggested incorporating one of my favorite trails into the mix, a mile long, sinewy stretch of singletrack full of tricky root sections. It's not very steep, and the sudden sharp turns keep the speeds down, but getting through it without dabbing, especially when it's wet out, can feel harder than juggling four flaming chainsaws. I think that's what draws me back to it – it's still challenging, and requires being fully engaged in order to stay upright even after years of riding it in everything from snow to sun.
“I hate that trail. It's the worst.” Wait, what? I'd expected a completely different response from this particular rider, and the level of disgust for what I consider to be a near-perfect example of a mountain bike trail caught me off guard. But then I thought back to my first few months in the Pacific Northwest, before I'd grown accustomed to the deep puddles and slippery roots, and remembered just how awkward and frustrating it had all felt. Those initial rides were humbling, and made me realize I had a lot to learn in order to be comfortable in my new home. I had to reset my perception of my skills as a rider, and work on acquiring a taste for riding technical trails in nasty weather.
When someone says something is 'an acquired taste' it's easy to dismiss them; there's a tendency to think that our palate (or riding style) is as evolved as it will get. I certainly didn't believe my parents when they told me that I'd like peanut butter someday, and I clearly remember thinking that downhillers were crazy at one point in my riding career, confident that I'd be a cross-country rider forever. I don't recall exactly when it happened, but I eventually came to accept peanut butter as something worth consuming, and by the time college rolled around it was a staple in my diet - there were multiple climbing and biking road trips where it was nearly my sole form of sustenance (other than Ramen noodles and oatmeal cream pies). And somewhere along the way I ended up with a downhill bike and a season's pass to the bike park - go figure.
The concept of 'acquired taste' also works for trails that are initially frustrating, whether that's because they're full of awkward turns, punchy climbs, or slick off-camber sections. Over time, the secrets begin to reveal themselves, and flow becomes easier to achieve - the bitterness they once caused turns sweet. So the next time you find yourself ready to toss your bike into the woods in anger, take a few deep breaths, and know that one day that section of trail may end up being as satisfying as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich after a five hour ride.
(Sorry, mid afternoon at work and I'm grumpy)
You wont be dissapointed
www.pinkbike.com/u/bumblebeezack/album/Mt-Buller-Australia
Mount Buller is on my bucket list. And yes, the new flow trail looks like the shiz.
Why do you have to take it there? Do hyperbole and sarcasm mean nothing these days....
I've been on 160mm bikes for 6 years and recently finished building a rigid SS 29er, it's like being 6 years old and discovering the woods for the first time again on a BMX, absolute blast.
Of course, I also do probably about 50% dirt jumping so a bigger wheel would screw up my bike's geometry pretty bad, but hey. Every bike has its purpose, some serve certain purposes better than others.
When I first moved here from the north east (where every day is a "hero dirt" day and trail access conflicts are nonexistent) I was SUPER bummed by the trails here. The loose trail surface and general lack of all mountain style trails around LA had me in quite a funk.
Fast forward a year later and I'm well on my way to mastering a proper "California Drift" (for your native Californians, turning everywhere else in the world just kind of happens, here it's a dance who's steps require a bit of courage and a lot of practice to execute properly at speed) and I've learned to love the long sustained climbs to get to the goods.
In other words, I couldn't agree more Mike!
My first experience with 29ers is also an example. The ones I took for a ride I hated, felt too long, stuck to the ground, unresponsive. I'm also pretty short, so usually end up with bars too high on big wheelers. Until I tried the right one and it was like I had been riding it for years. I'm still on 26", but now I know that if wanted to add a 29er on the stable I wouldn't have trouble fnding one that clicked.
stiff light rims on the other hand...
I've come a long way since then and somewhere along the way I've 'found' the flow that was hidden in all the mess. It's not the fastest trail I've ever ridden, but it's taught me more than any other and now one of the most fun.
*and
(small phone keyboard on public transportation)
@santiagomo87 - you can make it worse; substitute cheez whiz for peanut butter. Not sure if it's a NA-thing or worldwide, but for the uninitiated Cheez Whiz is to actual cheese, what Cool Whip is to actual whip cream, aka, a disgusting oil-based vaguely cheese-coloured sludge.