It’s the night before the Texas Adventure Ride. We are packing up the last little things and I am testing out posting with my little tablet. I’ve been thinking about Dirt and why I love if so much.
Let’s all get something clear, I’m very new to dirt. This is my second big ride involving dirt but I know I love it. I loved it from the first time I nudged my tire onto something that wasn’t concrete. There is something….primal about off road riding. Something Zen that invites you to exist inside the flow of life and yet demands that you have control of your bike. Not too much control though, too much will land you on your butt in the dirt. You must let the handle bars be easy under your hands and accept the fact that the mild fish tail you are feeling is perfectly normal.
None of my riding friends are dual-sport riders. That makes me a little sad sometimes but it’s ok. It’s scary, it’s not for everyone I get it. Then again, I think twisties on concrete is terrifying and yet I find myself on them quite a bit. Mr Man and I were talking about dirt and how much it terrifies him. I know there are risks to adventure riding but they are risks that make me happy. Just like his risks make him happy. That’s the trick I think, to mesh your risks with your joys. I love the soft organic feel of dirt, the gritty roughness of gravel. I love the unknowable destination I sense every time I see a dirt road; this almost overwhelming urge to know, “What’s down that way?” It overcomes my fears, my stress, my everything. Just let me point my front tire down a dusty road I’ve never been and let me answer the great question of “where does this go?”
I always hope the answer is “Nowhere”