Specialized Myka Elite

Wow, it’s been awhile!  The original Little Red Bike that propelled me – literally and figuratively – to a new life, a new outlook and, ultimately, a new relationship (but that’s a story for another time), has about 12,000 miles on it now.  It’s beat-up, faded, chipped, dented, and with each new imperfection, I love it more. 

My newer, sturdier Trek 520 has taken me down the Oregon coast, to Canada, the San Juans, and will continue to be my travel bike. 

I’ve biked Bainbridge Island loops so many times I could navigate them in my sleep.  Touring still calls, but those trips take time, money and planning.  I’ve been feeling itchy for a new bicycling challenge, and the appeal of getting off the roads, away from traffic, has been growing in my mind.  Tom Clune, who runs one of our local bike shops, is a huge mountain biking fan, and planted the seed a couple of years ago.  The “vibe” out on the roads being what it is these days — with tension between bikes, cars and peds ratcheting up — the idea of being able to get out into forest and open land, onto off-road roads and trails, has more and more appeal. 

I’m lucky to live on an island that has huge tracts of publicly-owned forest property with many miles of well-kept trails.  Two of the largest parks are within a half-mile of my house — it all added up:  Get a mountain bike.  The search began, of course, with a trip to Tom’s shop, BI Cycle.  There was one women’s mountain bike in my range of interest:  the Specialized Myka Elite.  Hard tail, hydraulic disc brakes, lightweight (for a mountain bike!), some cool features.  I rode it around the parking lot and immediately had that feeling…  “this is IT.”   I bought it, and a week later, Will bought Specialized’s comparable men’s model, the Rockhopper.  

I’ve made a few trips to the Grand Forest — at age 58, I find I’m a little more cautious than I was even a few years ago.  It didn’t help that I hit a cluster of roots the first time out and fell on my ass.  You might say I now have a healthy dose of root respect.  For now, I’m just going slow, putting in the old “TIS.”  It’s always worked before, I know it will work again. 

There are now six bikes in the barn.  It may seem extravagant, but we can’t figure out which one we could do without.  Now, we’re poring over books about mountain biking in southern Utah, and I’m dreaming of camping and exploring new territory from a new seat and new perspective on this magical experience of riding bikes. 

One thing occurred to me today — I love putting on old pants, shirts, etc. to go bike riding.  There’s something about the messy, muddy GRIT of it this mountain bike adventure that I love.  After all, a bike may allow me to sail through the air, but moving along in touch with the earth — with all it’s direct, real experience —  is still what it’s all about, for me.   

More to come.

We also got off Highway 101 to a scenic shore drive at Trinidad where we had spectacular views of a windy, rocky beach.

Smell of the old forest in the sun and wild orchids (?) along the road simply intoxicating. Highway not as bad as we’d heard tell… Only a few spots with no shoulder, for short stretches.