I always wanted to learn how to mountain bike but never made it a priority. That all changed last month.

——

At 37 years old, I hop on my very old and heavy bike gifted to me by my generous friend. With little skill and perhaps too much optimism, I join 4 badass women on the trails of southern Colorado.

The trail starts with an immediate and persistent ascent. My excitement and inexperience lead me to exhaust my energy within the first couple miles. With shaky legs I make it to the top ready to take it easy. We head down our first descent. What a blast! Perfect single track free of rocks and roots with small whoop de doos. Perfect for this novice but ambitious biker. I take a couple falls on the hairpin turns, but nothing to knock my spirits. I jump up with a little extra adrenaline and a smile on my face and catch up to my patiently waiting friends. I give them a thank you, they offer encouragement and off we go again.

We reach a huge (okay, huge to me only) whoop de doo. The ladies are soaking in this opportunity to catch air! They offer their best tips on how to approach it. I gain speed, set my weight back, and go for it! I made it to the otherside (no air, but made it)! They ask if I want to give it another go and I decline…I can feel “the end is nigh.” I mean…I do have to go back UP that exhilarating descent. I take a few pictures of the kickass ladies and let them know I may be at my end.

We meander our way back up. Shockingly, it wasn’t so bad. After a quick lunch break, we hop back on our bikes with a bit more pep and optimism. I clip-in and immediately tip over into a cactus - my pep and optimism are clearly a facade. Too bad the end is still 4 miles out.

Without an option to bow-out, I carry on. The girls inform me there is a slightly easier option out, but they are all going the “fun way”. Never one to turn away from fun (or the safety of traveling with a group), I opt to take the hard way out with the rest of the group. After receiving a couple tips on how to handle these tight-turn whoop de doos, I’m off. And it feels good! Like, really good. I’m going fast, I’m moving my weight with each turn, it is all finally connecting. I catch up with the group and they offer their encouragement and excitement for my improvement. I could get used to this.

With my ego enlarged, I continue pulling up the rear. I hear my friend Jenna shout, “watch out for this root!” I come around the hairpin turn and find the root with my tire. I do my best to hold the line, but ultimately lose it. I come down HARD! Jenna later informs me she knew it was bad when all she heard was silence. I’m having a full-on panic attack and am still clipped in, laying on the ground straddling my bike. I remember Jenna asking several questions and thinking, “I know the answer to that, just tell her the answer!” She is phenomenal at calming me down. Her calm, confident questioning remind me that I am in control. My breath returns to normal, I unclip, untangle myself from the bike, and try to stand up. SHIT! My knee! I finally get to my feet. The pain is tolerable, so long as I don’t bend my toes or my knee. Perfect.

Jenna and I walk to meet the group. We devise a plan to get me out as easily as possible. Two girls bike ahead to bring the car closer. Two girls stay with me to help navigate our way out. It is all I can do to keep myself from apologizing. All day, I’ve been holding up the pack and have made a concerted effort to thank them for their patience and keep a smile on my face. No one wants to adventure with the negative apologetic, but most everyone enjoys a joyful, appreciative optimist. But now, after putting our ride to a complete stop, I can’t help but feel guilty. I am apologizing profusely in my head, but want to show these lovely women how much I appreciate them, not ask for their forgiveness. I tell them about my efforts to refrain from saying I’m sorry and they are in complete agreement and express their appreciation for my positive attitude.

The day could have been a bust! It could have been a day full of anger and frustration and self-deprecation, a day I would look back on with resentment…I mean, I fell 5 times, tore my meniscus and bruised my patella. But it wasn’t! It will always be one of my favorite memories simply because I decided to show gratitude, not self-hate. Apologizing for doing your best only signals you don’t value effort and it gives your fellow adventurers the impression that you are holding back (at their expense). If you’re doing your best, you have nothing to apologize for and everything to celebrate.

We make it to the car and I scream out in joy! I thank them all profusely! It’s time for some celebratory beers and a dip in cold water. As we sit in the nearby creek (to ice my knee, of course), we recount the day’s adventure, laugh uncontrollably, act a fool, and savour the joy that comes only when a group of women come together to live their best life and support one another!

— Breanne Kiefner, Root Adventures Founder