Independence

Back in college, I was devastated when my boyfriend and I broke up. Yeah, yeah, another sad heartbreak story. I wasn't devastated about the guy; what I was truly mournful about was losing my sole climbing partner and, with him, all the gear and knowledge. I had been relying on him for a couple of years to lead every route, set-up every top-rope anchor, and clean/rappel every climb. Without intending to, I had become entirely dependent on him for climbing.

I still smile to think of how I became an independent climber. No joke, my best friend, Stephanie and I headed to a local crag with shiny quick draws, a clean, new rope, and a book called 'How to Rock Climb' (or something equally ridiculous). I'm sure we freaked out more than a few people that day: me, hanging on a quickdraw at the top chains (only 20 feet up, thankfully), hollering down to Steph to look at my anchor set-up to make sure it was right; Steph, looking at some pictures and diagrams in the book, then looking at my anchor to give it the 'ok'.

However foolish our methods, we did learn to lead, set-up varied anchors, clean, & rappel, and our knowledge grew from there. No longer would we need a boyfriend to take us climbing; if we wanted to go, we just went!

Fast forward 15 years- The other day, as I pedaled alone on a quiet mountain trail near Helena, Montana, I thought about independence again, this time related to biking. You see, it happened again; as I learned to mountain bike, I relied heavily on my husband's navigational abilities. Now that we have a child, we don't get to ride together anymore, as one of us hangs back with the kiddo while the other one rides. So, I'm learning to become an independent mountain biker.

On this particular day, I told my hubby the route I planned to take and we agreed on where to meet afterwards. Within 15 minutes of riding, I came to an intersection I didn't expect. It wasn't on the map. I had to make a decision: right or left. I looked at the map and puzzled over the best way to go, then chose to go right. While it was fun riding, it was the wrong way to go because the trail took me right back to where I started riding. Back on the bike, I headed to that intersection and headed left this time. It seemed like forever before I saw another trail or sign, and I began to doubt that I would be able to figure this out.

When I did see an intersection and the sign to indicate the trails, I was more confused. The trails were named differently than on my map and I couldn't tell which way the arrows were pointing. Again, I puzzled over the map, looked at the sign, and tried to make a logical decision. The single-track I rode this time was phenomenal, probably the best riding I did on the whole trip, but...it was not the route I intended to ride. At the bottom and at another junction, I had a choice to make: go back up (straight up!) the awesome trail I just rode down or attempt to reconnect with the route via another nearby trail.

I chose the second option and pedaled in the direction of the supposed nearby trail. I felt so victorious when I found it- for once that day, my navigational decision had worked! I knew exactly where I was!  I enjoyed the rest of the ride, successfully navigating a few more intersections, and met up with my hubby and son at a coffee shop in town. The wrong turns added more mileage to my day but there were no true negative consequences. My body ached from a long, good day of riding, and I felt so proud of myself for getting out there alone, working on rusty skills, allowing vulnerability, and problem-solving on my own.

Next on the list: learning how to change a flat bike tire and other basic bike maintenance. Maybe I'll just bring a book along with me and learn how to do these things while on the trail. :)