MTB Bandits

Ok, so it's happened. I've ridden a mountain bike. As in properly ridden one, not to the shops and back to get milk, (Probably A2 milk, if you're asking), but properly out in Lysterfield Park.
My mate Pat took me on an off-road adventure, and let's just say BMX Bandits came to mind. But then again it's not really BMX Bandits considering:

1. We weren't riding BMX bikes,
2. We weren't terrorising innocent civilians as they enjoyed their summer popsicles,
AND
3. Neither of us was the real Nicole Kidman before, well...'the work'.

If you haven't seen BMX Bandits, you haven't lived.

So instead we settled for M.T.B Bandits and duly adopted our nom de plumes: Rippr & Treadz

L to R: Rippr & Treadz

As with most posts that I provide the photography for I managed to take a number of shots of nothing in particular. In addition to this, I didn't manage one photo of the actual off-road tracks we churned over. What I did manage, was a heap of photo's of flat paths and trees, making it look as though mountain biking for me consists of riding on some gravel. 

Let's start with what MTB photography CAN look like...

Source

Source

And here's me blowing the lid on excitement...

I even have 2 old men sharing a chat in this last photo to display how freakin' wild*  I really am.

'But these negatives matter not,' (as Shakespeare would say in a sentence structure more befitting his time than ours), because the photo’s do the experience an injustice. That is to say it was considerably more exciting than two old men on a bench.

I had a number of experiences where my bowls compacted into near nothingness as a result of sheer fear. At one point both of my feet simultaneously left their respective pedals, during such an even one might consider it a formality to ‘drop their bundle’ so to speak. I did no such thing, but came close. What instigated the sweats most were those winding root/stick/loose earth/death riddled descents where I would watch as I slowly lost control of most things. You know those times where you just hold your breath for no particular benefit and gradually recede further towards an eventual blackout that seems easier than dealing with your impending doom? I sorta had the early stages of that. Thankfully, because the paths are constantly changing their mind on how best to throw you from your bike, I found ways in which to remain connected with my instrument…the bike that is. There always appeared a get out of jail free moment at the perfect instant to whisk me away from a heavy dirt bath.

Upon finishing our 16km's of hectic fun, we found time for some classy tourist shots. 

That's me next to the Dam...um, thing.

That's me acting like a dickhead.

And capped off the experience with a well-earned Mountain bike Short Mac. Apparently the hills keep going once you're off the bike.

So it was a great day all round and I will most definitely be hitting up Trailmix Bike Hire again soon for another ride. At $35 for the first 2 hours it's well priced fun.

Sure next time I may wear an adult-nappy for those close calls, and dink Mr Miyagi so he can literally kill every individual fly that approaches, thousands of them. Who knows, maybe next time I'll even take a photo of something more than nothing.

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*Italics are even more wild!!!**

**And '!!!' too!!