Article and photos 

by Carol Godwin

During the Pandemic, a bizarre phenomenon took place: in all the weirdness and confusion of lock-downs, remote schooling and home-based workplaces, people were trying to exercise away from others, people were trying to escape the feeling of helpless confinement and bicycles became the hot item. At our shop, we were lucky to have a decent supply of bikes because we were just preparing to begin the summer season, and people appeared from all over the area, all over the state and literally all over the country and beyond looking for bikes. We had a man drive from Southern California for a Marlin, a man from Texas came for a Roscoe, a man from Mexico City came for a Fuel Ex and a lady from New Mexico arrived on a mission to credit card fraud several local businesses and run off back to her state with thousands of dollars in bikes and a rack (not so good for us).

The enthusiasm for getting more physically active was short-lived, and we never really saw much of an uptick in using local trails, not much lasting recruitment of the general population into regular cycling and not much new cycling infrastructure was added locally. Every spring, people come into the shop needing work done on their bikes that have been sitting idle since a few weeks into last spring, and the excitement is nearly as palpable as it was during the pandemic. 

“We are going to ride bikes this year! We are going to get out and lose weight! We are going to do more as a family and get the kids outdoors!” But inevitably, many of these bikes are used a few times and then put back in their storage containers until next season. Why are some people able to keep their enthusiasm up and others not so much? I think the key point is being able to share this experience with others. 

In the OSW article “First Day Out”, April 2025, I described some of the basic things you need to do to prepare yourself for doing trail rides. Once you are comfortable on your bike, it’s time to join another person or two or a few on a group ride. Group rides are motivating time-wise (I promised I’d be there, so I’d better be there), support-wise (If that person can do it, I can too) and skill-wise (I’ll just follow this person and do what they do). Group rides are a great way to get past that first hump of spring, where you have a ton of motivation but not a lot of skill, and onto the awesome part of making cycling an essential part of your lifestyle and well-being.

We often take new people out with us on trail rides, and I usually notice that when we introduce somebody new to an experience we’ve had many times before, it becomes fresh and new to us too. You notice a twisted tree, a unique pile of rocks, a spectacular view you normally just ride past. You appreciate the glorious place you call home and take the time to think about why you live here. It’s nice to slow down and take this time to share what you love. When you repeatedly follow the same path, your mind smooths it out for you, anticipating the end or the next major feature. 

There is no way that even if you know an area “like the back of your hand,” you can remember every minor feature. Do you really know the back of your hand? How many lines are on each knuckle? What direction do the veins go? Taking someone new on an old adventure gives you a chance to look for those amazing details that your mind has learned to tune out with repetition. Take the chance to go a little slower on those familiar trails and look around. 

On the Secret Trails, there are little hidden gems around every corner. A set of bones here, a small strange toy in the crook of a tree over there, amazing painted rocks peeking out of logs or topping natural rock piles. Appreciate this chance to see old trails through fresh eyes and focus on the journey with no need to accomplish some end checkmark.

When we are trying to introduce a relatively new and inexperienced rider to the sport, we often try to encourage them by saying “It’s easy, you can do it” and the phrase “It’s all downhill from here” takes on a new meaning when you notice that small rise you forgot about or that next “little climb” that really doesn’t seem so little now. We don’t mean to mislead people and our intentions are good when we encourage them with the “it’s easy, you can do it”, and “It’s all downhill…” phrases, but what does that do to that new person’s confidence when your well-intentioned encouragement is proven false over and over? 

“It’s easy, you can do it” is a phrase that people use in many life situations, which is really not helpful at all. It may be easy for you, but when it’s difficult for that other person, how does it make them feel? If it’s difficult for them right now, they must be a failure, probably shouldn’t try to do whatever task is before them and makes them feel less, not more, confident. Keep in perspective that things that are easy for you now once were hard, and for this new person, this thing you are saying is easy, is actually really daunting for them now.

I think that the feeling of not being good enough or holding others back is a primary reason that many newer riders don’t feel comfortable enough to take the time to learn the skills needed to feel at ease on our trails. A few discouraging rides out where a new rider needs to walk over rocks that others glide through, or hills that take a lot of struggles for them while others seem to race effortlessly to the top (I promise you, no climb is effortless) is enough to make most anyone want to hang up their wheels and go back to feet in hiking shoes or butts on the couch. 

Getting proficient at anything takes time and repetitive practice, with cycling being no different. The most common phrase I hear from riders new to the sport, especially from women, is “I’m slow, I don’t want to hold everyone back” or “I don’t want to make everyone else wait for me”, and women often tend to over-apologize for not being able to keep up or finding an area tricky. 

I think women are especially susceptible to these feelings because, many times, we have been taught to care for others over ourselves and feel selfish and guilty if we seem to need special consideration. This point is especially important for men wanting to get their significant others into cycling. Never make your new riding partner feel guilty for holding you back, never belittle their efforts and never tell them it’s easy. Applaud their efforts and encourage them at whatever speed they feel comfortable. I’ve found that men seem to be more able and willing to just say “*&^%!, that was a tough climb!” or “You guys are killing me, *%&#!” and move on with no guilt dogging them. 

Guess what? As long as you are trying and have a good attitude, we are happy to take a break to wait, we are happy to coach you through a tricky area and we are just happy to have you out being you! I act as the “sweep” on most of our rides, and my job is to make sure that everyone gets from the start to the end in one piece. Going slower lets me work on pedaling techniques, lets me enjoy the little things along the trail and lets me chat about whatever comes to mind. No, you are not too slow, or holding me back. We’ll get there eventually, and those up front started in the back too. Soon you’ll be leading the pack and dragging along friends for the next fun ride.

When I first started riding a mountain bike, I was in my 50s and hadn’t ridden a bike, much less a mountain bike, in literally decades, so it was all a new and terrifying experience from every angle for me. We had a big adventure route behind our house that I had hiked a few times, so that seemed a good place to start. We packed snacks; we packed water; we made sure we had plenty of time; and we set off. 

There was a big climb right off the bat, and I walked part of the way up it to get to the trail (“Just keep pedaling, you can do it”). Soon after the big climb, there was a terrifying dip in the trail, seemingly straight down and filled with small slippery gravel rocks that wanted to send me careening off into the trees lying in wait. (“It’s easy, you can do it!”) Tires skidding and a death grip on the bars got me to the bottom of the slope and then a steep incline back up towards the top of the rise. What in the world? My husband is trying to kill me… 

The trail crossed a road with a yawning cavern of a drainage ditch- no way am I getting across that! (It’s easy, just let the bike roll…). Four grueling miles later, we reached a cattle tank and took a well-deserved break. Snacks, and sitting on logs, talking and enjoying. This is actually fun! But now we need to get home… (It’s all downhill from here). Now on a two-track road covered in vicious sharp rocks waiting to grab a tire and send me to my death, back towards home and past a beautiful old cabin, following a barely visible rocky path through the junipers (where are we going now!?) and…wait!...you said it was all downhill…up the side of the hill we started out on. Narrow trail, barely cut into the hillside, sloping downward, slippery gravel, knuckle-biting adrenalin-inducing terror — I think I will walk this now (“It’s easy, just look ahead and relax”). Almost there, but wait, the trail heads down another impossibly steep, slippery slope with a 90-degree turn at the bottom, right where there is a huge pine tree just waiting for me to make a mistake and go careening into its rough bark. Made it home. Time for a nap! And that was “easy?”. Obviously, mountain biking is way too hard for the likes of me.

No, and no. It was difficult; it was hard; it was scary, and it induced more than a few tears, but a few years later, that seven-mile loop is an easy after-work, before-dinner zip-around dog run. I don’t even wear my chamois shorts, rarely take snacks and don’t even bother to take a pack. I grind up that hill, down the not so slippery slope, over the drainage ditch and around the side of the next hill. Rocks? What rocks? Those are just minor bumps on the trail. Climbs? What climbs? Those are just chances to put down some power and feel like a champion at the top of each rise. Slippery slopes? Those are just chances to test your skills and fly for a minute. Seven miles is nothing. Oh, I wish there was more time before the sun sets. And look! There is something new…stop and take a photo, enjoy the ride and keep on keeping on..

So yes, you can do it, whatever “it” is, but when somebody tells you it’s easy, remember that it may be easy for them now, but it’s all a matter of perspective. When you are tempted to tell others how easy it is, think again and find a better way to encourage them with specific advice. This hill looks steep. Break it up into chunks and focus on getting further each time. These rocks look scary. Let’s roll the bike over them walking first so that you can see how the bike moves. Instead of taking a new rider on a long ride over complex single track the first time out, take a simple roll down a dirt road and stop to admire the flowers with them.

 It’s all downhill and easy from the top, but getting there is the trick, and what fun would life be if you just got to the top and stayed there? We all have new things to tackle, new challenges to take on and new experiences to explore. Remember this when you are introducing someone new to what you love. Realistic coaching and encouragement help, but keep in mind what the starting point is for that person and remember how it was for you when you were there. If you are a beginner, keep in mind that everyone was a beginner once and with perseverance and an open mind, you will be the mentor to the next new rider. Keep on keeping on and enjoy the ride…it’s easy!