Duality of Two Wheels
By Ben Marshall
My mountain bike has accompanied me on some of my best adventures and has been my companion on days I’d rather forget – when life as I was living it didn’t seem worth it anymore, when even though I was walking on the ground, there did not seem to be ground beneath my feet (or my wheels). When a pandemic made society take a sharp left, a sharp right, or a complete about face and my anger became so entrenched that I didn’t want any part of it anymore. It’s gotten me out of bed, out the door, and out of my head when nothing else would.
Cadence. Repetition. Balance. Focus. Live on that razor’s edge where anything less means a serious injury. Breathe. Distill everything down to basic elements and exist 50 meters at a time. Shut out the rest of the world. Quiet the mind.
I’ve lived this way for years. When things are good, ride your bike. When things absolutely suck, ride your bike.
A duality emerges at this crossroads: While my bike affords me the opportunity to adventure, to explore places I wouldn’t make it to on foot, to test my endurance and my ability, to smile, laugh, and talk about problems with my friends (for who hasn’t used a bike saddle and a long fire road as a substitute for a therapist’s couch?), I’ve come to wonder more and more, do I use this wonderful tool – this unparalleled machine– too often as a crutch? Am I merely beating my brain into exhausted submission rather than, as the mountain town Zen bro in me would prefer to say, “quieting my mind?”
My intent is not to downplay the benefits of and my love for the asthmatic wheeze that accompanies an ascent in the San Juans or the hoots, yips, and hollers that are part of a full tilt descent. I simply feel that I need to bring awareness to, and appreciate the idea that I may not use my time on my bike in a manner that is always healthy, especially when I’m riding alone. I am becoming increasingly aware that my bike sometimes acts as a healthy distraction, but a distraction nonetheless – a way to not process uncomfortable feelings, or hurt, or loss. A Band-Aid for my brain, like the booze and drugs I’ve used in similar ways before, just trying to get my mind to Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Adrenaline sports are a lot like drugs, aren’t they? Chasing a feeling that lasts a moment and keeps you coming back for that dopamine rush again and again?
All of that said, I know my body still needs it. I crave the exercise and the way that pedaling puts me back in balance. I crave the exhausted ache in my legs and rawness in my lungs after a long day, and the flow state that accompanies a line being ridden just right. And it feels like I have withdrawals without it; “DT shakes” of the mind.
And I circle back again: Do I ride my bike in a healthy way? Or is it a crutch to keep from dealing with what is inside my head? Can both be true, and is that ok? It’s something I’m still thinking about. Keep the pedals churning and the wheels spinning forward. Maybe the answer will come to me on my next bike ride.