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Four times now my friends have taken me mountain biking. Each time I come home bruised and elated. I don't know how to handle a bike with straight bars and suspension; I don't trust myself to roll over rocks and through sandy banked corners. But I like being perpetually challenged, and I like spending time with trees and dirt--things the country girl in me misses in her city life.
This is my jam: five or ten minutes into the ride, chasing eager riders who know what they're doing, I take a digger--last week I knocked the wind out of myself and bruised some ribs, this week I wiped out in some sand and landed hip to end of bar--and then I brush myself off, relax, and start getting into the rhythm. By the end I'm exhausted and sore; I can't wait to do it again.
<3
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