Lydia & Julz Go Large Week 27

Week Update 27

Tale from the trail: We clearly don't have a will to live, as the dare devil is us saw for us mountain bike riding up at Whistler mountain with our friend Toni, where only a couple months ago we were snowboarding down the same tracks "shredding the mountain." We were lured into Ladies night with the incentive of beers at the GLC after, it doesn't take much to twist our arm with ol' Frank the Tank beside me. We were all kitted up in our ninja turtle outfits, padded out to the hiltons with helmets that made us look as though our heads were trapped in an elevator, to sum it up, we were pretty darn attractive. When asked which side we braked on, we all stood there drawing blanks with no recollection of the last time we'd actually been on a bike. The sports enthusiasts that we are, we waltzed out in our gear, twirling our helmets which the instructor had to remind us that they're not handbags, girls! simply an accessory to our mountain bike, much like our snowboards were. After I was disheartened with being offered a kids bike, I ended up getting stuck with a seat that was way too high, I was tippy toeing to keep my balance, a height that made you feel every knook and cranny along the trail. We all gathered around with our instructor asking all the appropriate safety questions, i.e the statistics of injuries, he assured us that it is unlikely we were going to injury ourselves. As the words flew out of his mouth, this guy comes flying down the mountain behind him, running straight into the metal pole, knocking him off his bike.

It's a lot harder to follow the breath catching method of standing on the hill look as athletic as possible without actually moving any muscles and if anyone asks what you're doing, you simply say "I'm just catching my breath." This method was applied early on with snowboarding but doesn't seem to be a successful approach for mountain biking. It's all good and well to look as athletic as possible seeing as though the biker outfit does this for you but we found it difficult to control our bikes especially when your bike seat is cutting off your circulation. We were totally unprepared for and unaccustomed to the terrain. People actually enjoy this? we wondered. We had to go back to learning the basics of mountain bike riding, suddenly we couldn't see passed the days of training wheels and now we're about to take on one of the best mountain biking trails in the world. Our instructor thought it would be easier for us to relate to biking to the way we drive, little does he know that I had to cry to get my licence. Julia and I took in turns of being on the tail end of the pack, the one sport that doesn't bring out the competitive beast in us.

Our first task was to put our bikes on the gondola. Julia was yelling at me from behind to watch how the others did it but I couldn't see or hear passed my helmet. As my turn came to putting the bike on the gondola, my bike wouldn't go. I was chasing behind my bike in the most awkwardest of movements as it was half on the gondola, while the gondola kept moving. Strangers yelled out for me to get my back wheel onto the gondola, while I'm still chasing after my bike like a complete idiot in front of an audience of fellow mountain bikers.

I saw my chance to catch up, digging deep, arms and feet numb from the repeated shocks of sticks, rocks and holes in the ground, then as I came to the corner, I lost control of my bike, skidding around the corner from under me. Following the instructor's advice of "biking is just like driving," I can assure you that my mountain bike didn't handle the corner like my Yaris. I took on a muddy corner the way I'd take it driving. Next thing I know I'm lying there in the mud with my bike on top of me, wiping the mud from my scunned hands, not to mention I ruined my pants. I don't know how I could have lost sight of "You don't control the mountain, the mountain controls you" I've certainly made no headway with that relationship.

We've finally came down from the mountain, even more attractive as we were all showered in sweat and ready for our victory beer. We've now adopted the summer phrase of "yeah we bike," this was a lesson learnt from the awkward conversation in winter as to whether we board or ski, the minimum requirement to living in Whistler.

Continuing with our sudden health kick, we took to the tennis courts to work off the after effects of 6 months of accumulated pizza and beer. The only tennis rackets that were available were the size of table tennis rackets, hardly a preventative for throwing a racket across the court. Admittedly, I'm more of a Leighton Hewitt on the court, as my brother can attest to being on the brunt of a thrown racket or two. Good sportsmanship is a thing of the past. That game ended quickly, with me storming off the court, racketless and Julia being forced to play against the wall. Tennis is a fickle sport. No matter how good you are at it, a wall will always be better, so that didn't last long either.

We were out walking on our usual walk, walking to Creekside along the lake. As we'd come around the corner, Julia freezes in her track, eyes popping out of her head and smacks me in the belly to get my attention. A couple of footsteps away, lies a snake. Julia has a major aversion towards snakes. In a state of panic, she knocked me completely aside and started back up the path. I was still bent over where she'd left me, recovering from the smack in the guts. If it's not bears or bats, it's a snake.

For two people to not really be snowboarders or skiers or mountain bikers or hikers or even have a slight love of nature, I'm not sure how we ended up in Canada.

Love

Lydia and Julia x