Mud Bike

The first signs of spring are upon us. In Northern New Mexico, during a wet snow year, this means that nearly all of dirt roads, biking and hiking trails downstream of anything will be muddy! So I dawned my thrift store white north face pants, with a red bicycle helmet that my aunt gave me, with a pashmina scarf from India, and a lavender shell jacket over a yellow cashmere sweater. My feet were clad with Maroon Uggs and I even had the serious bicycler grippy gloves with no fingers.  Looking like a stylish white (and lavender) storm trooper,  I was ready for my short bike ride in the mud.

During these times of the year, my driveway becomes an off-road adventure no matter what kind of vehicle you’re using. There are huge mounds of mud in all directions and several small lakes of all sizes and depths to navigate through, including the double lake with a huge double bump in the middle of it sticking out of the water as you hit the ninety degree turn. In the Honda Civic Red Hatchback that I drive, I have nearly mastered the course--though it did cost me one set of CV-joints. On the bicycle however, a totally different tale emerges. To head straight for the big mounds of mud to peddle through them, with the strength of Warrior knees (Virabhadrasana I, II and III) is real joy: a kind of riding of a wave--daring and dangerous. I do realize that this is a reflection of my entire existence. It’s fun to head for the unknown with a sense of adventure and, yes--sometimes recklessly, though I know I’d be much better off if I stopped it.

I take a deep breath as I veer the bike to the smoother part of the path and every once in while, I glide the bike near the edges of the different puddles to wash the mud off my wheels. After all, my approach is my choice.