Mid-life mountain-biking crisis

This weekend I treated myself to a new mountain bike.  My old one has been slowly dying on me and I finally decided I’d had enough when it shed a pedal 5km out from home, forcing me to walk all the way back. When I visited my local bicycle emporium (Robeet BikeStyle, in Tervuren) I was surprised by how much bike technology has changed since I bought my last one (a Specialized Rockhopper, bought ten years ago).  It’s now almost impossible to buy a mountain bike without front suspension, and disc brakes are common on all mid- to high-end bikes.  Naturally my new one  – a Scott Scale 40 has both of these (I resisted the temptation to go for full suspension though – not strictly necessary for my use).  It’s also significantly lighter than my old one, and has these bizarre combined brake/gear levers that take some getting used to.  But overall, I’m pretty pleased with it.

I turn 40 in a couple of weeks, so I’m writing off this slightly extravagant purchase (it was far, far from the most expensive bike in the shop, but still more than I’m in the habit of shelling out on the average weekend) as a mid-life-crisis thing.  Most men probably get a new sportscar or take another lover.  I get a mountain bike.  Woo-hoo.  Still, it’s probably safer this way.  Or maybe not.  I’ve already had my first tumble – and not even off-road.  I was test-riding it outside the shop, and checking out the suspension by bouncing up and down the kerb, but took it at too slight an angle, resulting in me leaving the bike in the gutter, and my skin along the sidewalk (serves me right for laughing at Dave).  But having been suitably ‘blooded’, I knew this was the bike for me.

Anyway, the weather is great at the moment (averaging 30degC most days) and being able to race along the many dirt tracks round our way, with the wind in what’s left of my hair, almost makes me feel young again.  I’m also determined to cycle into work (a round trip of 25km) at least once a week, to combat the middle-aged-spread that’s encroaching on my waistline at an alarming rate.  I’ve been threatening to do so for the past year but haven’t quite made it yet – the last attempt being the ‘pedal incident’ above.  Maybe this week.

Eager to get some use out of my new bike, we all went out for a family bike ride around Tervuren Park on Sunday (I know I said I’d never make that mistake again, but I was keen to get the new bike out). Sadly it wasn’t the dirt/speed frenzy I was hoping for as I got saddled with accompanying Freya, who’s still pottering along on her stabilizers, singing a merry old song as she cycles along with no sense of urgency (or direction) whatsoever.  Bless her.  According to my speedometer I managed to reach a top speed of 7kph!  Well, that was definitely worth getting a bike with 27 gears for.  Never mind; soon I’m going to get all five of us matching spandex outfits so we can claim to be a cycling team and then we can start terrorizing pedestrians and infuriating drivers with the rest of them.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *