On The Pedals
By Jason Giacchino

Double Dose of First Ride Bliss

I don’t need to go into great detail about the excitement of the first ride of the season. We’ve all felt it: The epitome of anticipation and excitement magnified by the culmination of spring fever canceling out months of boredom. For me the first ride of the season also meant the first ride on a new bike this year. I had the opportunity to partake in a genuine exercise in human patience as I built up a new steed just as winter took over. Some may call me a fair weather rider on account of the fact that I didn’t just give in and toss my new bike into the snow covered tundra for a test ride. And while I’ve been called worse, there was solid logic in my decision to keep my new bike indoors during the long winter. I had the presence of mind to savor the experience of a good first ride while the flowers were in bloom and layer upon layer of gear wouldn’t be required to simply go outside. It isn’t often that I update my entire bike and I didn’t want the experience tainted by the weather.

The total operation was a success last week when winter cracked like an egg dropped from the roof. Out of nowhere the late March air began a most unexpected (but welcome) increase in temperature. By the time April began, we were basking in the mid 70's with clear skies and plenty of sunshine. The call of the wild had beckoned and months of brining my bike into the kitchen to tweak the suspension settings and lube the yet unused bearings was about to pay off. Last week the day I had been long awaiting had finally arrived. On Tuesday the decision to hit the trails had been carved in stone long before the clock on my office PC flipped to 5:00. By the time the workday came to a slow conclusion, I rushed home fueled by the anticipation of getting in a good spin. While I was at it, this would be a good excuse to slip into some of the new gear I had gotten for Christmas: Baggies and gloves that have been residing on the floor of my closet since the cold dark days of December.

After a quick gear-up, I took a moment to study the yet pristine olive green tube spars that make up the frame of my MKIII well aware of the fact that all of the cleaning in the world would never return it to this state of luster after its debut excursion. I took in the yet perfect tire knobs and spotless bottom bracket, the chain and cogs with their fine layer of clear grease. From there my attention came upon the individual shining spoke nipples that rested atop glossy black rims. It was then that I decided to undress and read a magazine. A bike this clean simply couldn’t be ridden in the yet swampy trails of Western NY.

Kidding! After five straight months of studying the intricate details of this thing, I was more than ready to get her mudded up and came out of the gate swinging. I blasted across my street into the powdery trail network beyond, grinning all the while at the crisp acceleration and lively feel at the cranks. The front end was a bit lighter than I expected, allowing me to hop freshly fallen branches and exposed roots with ease. Once the initial elation of that coveted double first ride began to sink in, I realized that I wasn’t in quite as good a shape as I had suspected. A little winded and with a healthy dose of muscle-burn, I returned to the work shop to call it a night. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect scenario.

For the next two days I had enjoyed similar short (couple hour) post-work sessions. My stamina returned nearly as quickly as winter had faded. I was quite surprised at my near-instant taking to the new bike. It literally outperformed my last daily rider in every category; I find it’s quite easy to adjust to something new when it feels improved over what it’s replacing. Anyway, after a few days worth of warm up, the scenario for a potential epic was already developing. I got the call on Thursday evening from my cousin and closest riding buddy, Mike, that he had Friday off of work. Turns out he had just taken his own bike out of winter hibernation and was eager to weigh in on the performance of my new acquisition out on the trails. I arranged to take the day off myself a mere twelve seconds after he and I hung up.

As the weatherman had promised, we were greeted to a clear and sunny 57 degrees on Friday. The trails had pretty well dried out and were coated with a crunchy layer of hardened loam- All factors were textbook, best case riding scenarios. We started before lunch and wound up logging a good four hour excursion in before hitting up our favorite coffee spot for a hot cup of java and recollections of what may have been the most perfect riding day on record.

I love a happy ending and probably should have ended my tale at the last paragraph to offer one here. However, Mother Nature (actually her boyfriend, old man winter) wasn’t quite finished unloading on us. This past Tuesday, a mere week after the debut ride, it reached 80 sun-shining degrees. By the following day temps had plummeted back into the mid 20's, the wind kicked up, and the snow began to fall. The MKIII is back in hiding while the conditions outside continue to steadily deteriorate. That blissful ride less than a week ago now feels like a distant dream; a break from not only this dragging winter but from reality itself. I could, perhaps, actually convince myself that it was merely a dream except for the telltale mud splattered against my once pristine olive green downtube.

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