Ali's Rocky Ride

by Molly Hurford

  YOUR NOTES: I’m really nervous reading today’s workout because I know what the top of the world looks like….It is very, very high up. I’ve never been all the way up the mountain, but I’ve seen it from down below, and it looks like it would take forever to ride down the whole thing. Phoebe’s right, though—it’s a lot scarier than anything that might be on the beginner course. We’ve ridden all of the trails that could be part of the actual competition run, and none of them feel scary anymore. So maybe today is a good thing! But I’m writing in here as I eat my breakfast, and I know that my stomach is filled with butterflies—and Lindsay and Jen are both barely touching their oatmeal, so I know they feel the same way.

  I need to stop thinking about it like something that’s scary. It’s time to take action, be bold, be daring. I’ve got this. I’ve definitely got this. Shred Girls aren’t afraid of any mountain!

  CHAPTER 16

  “Welcome to the Top of the World,” Phoebe shouts, but I barely hear her over the wind whipping around us. It feels like we might fly away at any second, so I’m trying my hardest to keep my feet—and the tires of my bike—planted as firmly on the ground as I can. Even though I know there’s a lot of distance between me and the edge of the cliff, it still feels like if I toppled over right now, I’d roll off the edge of the world. Which, I suppose, is why this peak is named what it is.

  We had to get up really early to be the first ones at the top, so we wouldn’t get run over by stronger, faster riders. We can take as much time as we want, she assured us.

  Three ski lifts later, we’re finally here. The last chairlift was so tiny that it kept creaking loudly with every wind gust, making all of us hang on for dear life. I mean, I’m sure they wouldn’t let us ride it if it wasn’t safe, but it still felt like we were about to plummet to the ground at any second. Jen was shrieking her head off, and I’ve never been so happy to be wearing a full-face helmet for safety, and to not have to hear her scream at full volume.

  The top of the mountain is a lot colder than the bottom—it’s almost freezing up here, and I can actually see snow capping some of the mountaintops that look a lot closer to us now than they did three lifts ago. Thankfully, we all have coats stuffed into our hydration packs. I look over and see that Lindsay has already pulled hers on, and her teeth are chattering a bit. Jen is zipping her (neon purple, of course) coat up, and Phoebe is yanking hers out, so I swing my bag around and do the same.

  When Jen doesn’t make any snide comments right away about the color of my parka—a kind of puke-green hand-me-down from Leo—I feel my stomach unknot a little bit. We’ve been tiptoeing around each other lately, not having any real conversations.

  She does glance at my parka, though, and I brace myself for her criticism. But instead she gives me a thumbs-up and says, “That color is seriously trending right now.” She pulls out her phone and hands it to Phoebe. “Can you get a picture of the three of us?” she asks.

  Phoebe nods and gestures for us to get closer together. As soon as I zip up my parka, I feel a lot warmer, and the landscape doesn’t seem quite as desolate as it did a minute ago when I was shaking.

  That’s a tip to remember: staying warm makes you stay calm. Lindsay would probably write that one down in her superhero training journal, so I make a mental note to tell her about it later.

  Between the warmth of my coat and the glow from the unexpected compliment from Jen, I’m grinning as Phoebe snaps a few pictures of us with our bikes, looking windblown but fearless.

  Well, at least until we remember that we’re going all the way down to where it’s warm again.

  “The first part has a tiny drop to it,” Phoebe yells. “Follow me closely, and we’ll stop at the first flat section to assess where we are. And remember: always have one finger over each of your brakes, but when you squeeze them, do it slowly and gradually. Don’t panic! And on that drop, lean your weight back and let the bike flow over it.”

  We all nod, not really looking at each other, sort of looking over each other’s shoulders as we agree with what Phoebe is telling us—we’re all too freaked out for eye contact, I think.

  “Ali, you’re on my wheel. And, Lindsay and Jen, follow her but leave a few seconds between each of you,” she says. “It’s only a few minutes to get down the first section.”

  And with that, she’s rolling away and onto the trail.

  I take a deep breath to steady myself (it doesn’t totally work), and push down on the pedals to head onto the trail. It starts out gradual enough. Phoebe is right there in front of me, and I don’t even need to gently squeeze the brakes, since we’re not going too fast. In fact, it’s feeling amazing. The view is just huge, and you can see for miles, and the trail in front of me isn’t hard to follow. I’m taking in the sights, looking to see if I can spot the lake in the middle of the forest where Leo and Steven are riding today.

  “Get ready!” Phoebe yells, and it snaps me back to attention.

  It’s a good thing too, because as we curve around a corner, suddenly the trail gets steeper and the speed picks up, and right in front of me is a rock that is going to force my bike to drop off. We’ve rolled over a few like this before, and Phoebe has coached us on it—stay in that “Grrr!” position on the bike with knees and elbows a little bent, like you’re about to hit a jump on a BMX bike.

  “Let the bike do the work,” she explained last time, and showed us how to help the bike unweight a little by almost acting like the drop was the top of a jump. “Just let yourself get light over the bike when you’re on the rock, and you’ll float over like you’re jumping it,” she added. “And don’t hit the brakes in it or right after.”

  The process sounds a little confusing, but as I’m about to hit the rock and the drop right after, I try to get light while bending my elbows and knees, and try really, really hard to not close my eyes. I come over the drop, and try to think about gently bringing my front wheel up, and staying light on the rear wheel so that both tires are in the air at the same time.

  For a split second, I’m floating. And then…

  Thud. I’m already back on the ground.

  My tires reconnect with the ground smoothly, with a light thump, but I’m not being jostled off. I almost touch the brakes but at the last millisecond remember Phoebe’s warning. Behind me, I can hear screaming, but I’ve come to recognize Jen’s “EEEEEE!” scream as not a bad thing. (Trust me, I’ve heard her angry scream. It’s a lot louder.)

  Thankfully, there’s a gentle, straight slope for about ten seconds, so I can recover a bit and prepare for the next corner. I remember Phoebe’s advice: brake ahead of the corner, not in the corner, so as it gets closer, I gently squeeze both brakes to scrub off a bit of speed. (Not that I’m going that fast, but it feels speedy!)

  As the corner looms ahead of me, I take my fingers off the brakes and start to lean into the turn with my whole body, rather than turning the front wheel to steer. The dirt is in perfect condition today, and I can practically feel the treads of my tires eating into it like it’s made of Velcro.

  I’ve felt this in corners before, but never in a corner that was quite as tight as this, going quite so fast and up this high. It’s exhilarating, and as I pull off at the next turn to wait for everyone to catch up, I notice that I’m breathing hard and fast. My heart is pounding, but instead of feeling like I’m out of control and can’t catch my breath, I’m just thrilled and excited.

  “I feel amazing,” I say happily when we stop at the flat section.

  “That’s flow state,” Phoebe says, assessing my expression.

  “Huh?” I ask, somewhat dreamily. “Like, getting into the flow of the trail?”

  “Exactly, but you could be in a flow state doing anything—surfing, skiing, snowboarding, writing a really good essay….Anything where you’re in this state of complete focus and self-control is this idea of flow state,” she expl
ains. “It’s a psychological thing, not a physical one, though it definitely helps on trails like that!”

  “Why can’t it always feel like that?” I ask. “Can’t I hang out in flow state permanently?”

  “I wish,” Phoebe says, smiling through her visor. “But sadly, it’s not an all-the-time thing. Just when you’re really in the zone. Head down to where the trail forks, and I’ll meet you,” she adds as Lindsay and Jen roll up behind me.

  I adjust my helmet and take off, trying to recapture that feeling. I’ve always been a solo rider, I realize, because even when Leo and Steven rode with me, I was far back and chasing them, so I wonder if trying to keep Lindsay and Jen right with me when we practice has been making it harder for me to get into my own zone. It’s something worth thinking about. I know that Jen does better when she has an audience and someone to chase, and Lindsay likes riding with people she trusts, but maybe I’m more of a lone wolf.

  I smile at that idea. Lindsay is more like Penguin, a small dachshund that only really likes a few people and is shy around others. Jen is more like a friendly poodle who loves the attention of the crowd, but maybe my canine spirit animal is more of a solo type.

  Lone wolf. I really like that, and maybe if I casually mention it to Lindsay, she’ll help me start it as my nickname. Or at least draw me into one of her comics as having a sweet wolf sidekick. Now, that would be cool.

  When I reach the trail fork, I realize I did the flow state thing again, but a little differently. I was so preoccupied imagining how my new nickname would look on a sticker on my helmet that I totally forgot what I was doing, and probably did my best, fastest ride ever….It must be, since I can’t even see Lindsay or Jen.

  “That was a great last section there,” says a voice behind me, and when I turn around, I see that it’s Scott.

  “Really?” I ask, pretty psyched that someone was there to see me.

  “Absolutely. You hit that berm perfectly,” he says. “You’re doing the downhill race this weekend, right? I haven’t seen many girls here shredding like you!”

  I laugh when he says “shredding,” since he definitely doesn’t know about our Shred Girls team name.

  “We all are,” I say, gesturing to Jen and Lindsay, who are just finishing their runs, and I wave at them to come join us. That way, I won’t be talking to him alone. I know Jen still wants me to like him, but I look at him and see a perfectly cute but perfectly uninteresting boy.

  Jen looks like she’s debating leaving me alone with him, but Lindsay tugs Jen’s arm, and they both make their way over to where we’re standing. Phoebe hovers casually in the background, but I can tell she’s monitoring our conversation like an older sister would. Not that this conversation needs monitoring. But this is way better than what would happen if my brothers were here. They would be making faces and telling him embarrassing stories.

  “So, what runs did you do today?” he asks.

  It’s the magical question for cyclists. It gives us a chance to brag, to make conversation about different features on different runs, and to basically gab away for the rest of the afternoon if we feel so inclined.

  “We did Top of the World—the easier way down, but it was still superfast,” I say.

  “There is no easy way down Top of the World,” he says, and laughs. “Every way is really tough…and scary! How long did it take you to work up to it?”

  “We started with that run today, but we’ve only been on the beginner trails until now,” I say, and he looks so comically impressed that I can’t help but be a little flattered.

  “We practiced a lot on BMX bikes last month, though,” I admit. “And I’ve been riding mountain bikes since I was five.”

  “Still, that’s pretty amazing,” he says. “You must have a great coach.”

  I’m tempted to not mention Leo—the last thing I want is to have Scott turn into a fan-boy of my family—but I can’t leave him out. “Phoebe and my brother Leo have been really great, teaching us how to handle the steep drops and stuff.”

  “Your brother Leo is the pro racer who wins all the local races, right?” he asks, and I internally groan.

  “That’s him, yeah,” I say, preparing for the love-fest.

  “He’s great,” Scott says. “So, that rock drop at the tip of Top of the World didn’t freak you out?”

  Whoa. A bike guy who isn’t going to ask for all the details about my brother? I’m stunned, suddenly feeling a lot more pleasant toward this guy, even if I’m not into him “like that.”

  “Nah, that doesn’t scare me. So, what runs did you do today?” I ask. Like I said, favorite question of cyclists everywhere.

  His face lights up as he starts telling us about his run down Top of the World. It sounds like he took a pretty similar route to us but opted for one of the harder trails in the middle.

  “I crashed pretty hard on that one little drop, though,” he admits, and points up at the very end of the trail.

  “How did you do that?” It’s always worth asking so that you know what to avoid doing!

  “Nothing fun,” he admits. “I got unfocused because I was seeing that I was at the end of the trail, and I stopped paying attention.”

  “Now, that is a great reminder,” Phoebe says, since she’s been shamelessly eavesdropping on us for the last couple of minutes. “You’re never done with a run until you’re completely stopped. And even then, I’ve seen Leo fall over because he forgot to unclip from his pedal before he started to step off a road bike one time.”

  The idea of my brother falling so ungracefully sends me into a fit of giggles.

  “He probably still made that look cool,” Scott enthuses, and my bubble bursts a little. Of course Scott thinks Leo is this superstar cyclist, no matter how cool he’s playing it. Now Scott will probably try to wrangle a dinner invite or something entirely so that he can come over and meet Leo.

  “He’s a pretty good rider,” I say, instead of what I want to say, which is that he’s the bane of my existence.

  I’m still surprised that Scott doesn’t try to angle for a meeting or a ride with Leo, and pretty relieved. In fact, instead he asks if we’re doing another run and if he can tag along. We all look at Phoebe, waiting to see what she says. Even though we got an early start, that trail took us almost an hour to ride down, and my legs are feeling a little shaky.

  “One more,” she tells us. “But do the short green trail—you never want to end the day with a tough trail, when you’re tired and more likely to make mistakes.”

  The four of us cram onto the big lift on the other side of the slope from the one we usually take, and we whoosh right up the hill. This time, Lindsay, Jen, and I actually manage to get on and off the lift without any trouble, and I giggle a little as Scott stumbles when he steps off. I know I shouldn’t laugh, since I’ve done much more embarrassing exits, but it’s nice to see that it’s not only us having trouble on the lift. He doesn’t seem at all embarrassed by it, though, and when we get to the trailhead, I assume that he’s going to shove us to the side to drop in first, but he actually waves us through.

  “What a gentleman,” Jen says, laughing as she sails by. I’m guessing she’s pretty impressed, though—especially after some of the guys we met at the bike park a few weeks ago. It’s nice to know that there are more boys like Lindsay’s sort-of boyfriend, Dave, who actually appreciate that girls can ride bikes.

  I go behind Lindsay, with Scott taking off right behind me. I think normally I’d be nervous, but with my Shred Girls right up ahead of me, I just let it rip and have fun. I’m grinning the whole time we go down the hill, barely touching my brakes in the couple of sharp turns, but sailing through them, keeping my speed. I can feel the traction from my tires, the wind is hitting the only parts of my forearms that aren’t covered by elbow pads or gloves, and the sun is shining perfectly. Honestly, it’s the best ru
n that I’ve had so far. When I get to the bottom, right on Lindsay’s wheel, having caught her in the last seconds, I realize that once again I’ve had a few moments of that flow state Phoebe was telling me about.

  “That was wicked!” Scott says, pulling off his helmet as we do the same. “You’re all really good—way better than I expected.”

  We all glare at him simultaneously.

  “Errrr…no offense. Really!” he says, backtracking like it’s his job.

  “You know, just because we’re girls doesn’t mean we can’t shred,” Lindsay says proudly.

  “Yeah!” Jen agrees, and she looks mad. I nod. Suddenly we’re back on the same team, and my annoyance with her is forgotten. We’re banded together against a bigger enemy—people who don’t think girls can shred.

  “I meant you’re really new at this whole thing, right?” he tries to explain. I almost feel sorry for him, because he looks so upset that he might’ve offended us. “I’m sorry,” he adds, and looks sincere.

  “It’s okay. Just don’t let it happen again,” I say. I won’t hold it against him, too much. “Now we should probably get going and meet Phoebe before she starts wondering where we are.”

  “See you around?” he says hopefully.

  “Maybe,” Jen says over her shoulder as she pedals away toward where Phoebe parked.

  I grin and give him a thumbs-up, and he looks relieved.

  “Nice job keeping up,” Lindsay says to him as she rides past, getting in one more little dig. She’s really come out of her shell these last weeks!

  CHAPTER 17

  When we get home, Phoebe runs into her room and comes back out with a book with “FLOW” written in huge letters on it. “This might be a little advanced reading,” she says, “but I think you will really like it.”