The first time I went mountain biking was in Moab, Utah, and I hated it. Moab Utah is Mecca for mountain bikers. People comes from all over the world to do Slickrock Bike Trail, Captain Ahab, and the Whole Enchilada. I had gone to Moab with some of my coworkers from Colorado, and we didn’t do any of those trails. What we did instead was ride at the side of dirt roads so we could get covered in dirt as cars pulling trailers drove past. It was one of the worst experiences of my life. The last time I had ridden a bike before that trip had been when I had comfortably fit on my Schwinn Red Flyer. When I went to Moab, I didn’t have a good bike or the right equipment. I rented a hardtail mountain bike, and off we went. The temperature was in the upper 90’s and we rode at the side of various dirt roads in the middle of the day so the sun cooked us. Sitting perched on my bike, I felt like a slow-roasted rotisserie chicken. I didn’t have gloves, I didn’t have bike shorts, and the seat felt like it was going to cut me in half. My hands ached from gripping the handlebars. Worst of all, I came back to the hotel covered in dirt and looking and feeling like I had worked a construction job without getting paid. Everyone else had had a blast. I told them they were nuts…
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