It was that time of the summer when the heat is at its peak. I found no rest in my usual routine, which was waking up every morning beside my girlfriend Marilyn, who had moved in with me some couple of months ago, greet her with a kiss before going downstairs to fix breakfast of toast bread and coffee for us. And kiss her again as I go off to work.
I had never gone mountain biking in my life. I already knew how to ride a bicycle and even made a career out of it as I engaged in many bike race competitions, winning a lot of trophies in the process. Many of the guys that I trained with were avid mountain bikers, and they were always inviting me to do a little mountain biking with them but I just never wanted to do it.
It was always strange for a girl to be interested in the biking, cycling, racing, and all those things that are considered boy-like in the monotonous community of Texas.
Chloe came from a family where biking is their thing. Her father is an Olympic gold medalist in cycling and so is her uncle who was a silver medalist at the Olympic and a record-breaking gold medalist of world cycling championship.
One of the things that caught my eye in San Antonio was the number of mountain bikers.
Texas is a wonderful place for a mountain biker especially if it is not the rainy period. Mountain biking has always been one that I love doing. I developed an interest in when I was a kid, and I saw my older brothers and cousins engaging in it. Many times, they would travel from Florida, which was where we lived, to other states where they could ride their bikes on the mountain.
The crackle of countless raindrops against thousands of leaves roared around Moxy Jones. It was the hardest rain of the season, and he started regretting telling his friends they would have a blast if they followed him.
It was my first time in Montana, and my breath was taken away by the view. Mountain biking and I were good friends, so I was no stranger to beautiful views, but something about the way the river snaked beside the rocky mountain in front of me made me smile. I snapped a picture with my GoPro and watched a bald eagle alight on a fern tree by the river’s edge. Noticing a bull moose wading out into the water, I knew I had to get a closer look.
Stanley was very eager. He had always been curious and liked to try new things. The next thing we did was ascertain and deliberate on the perfect place to perform the activity. After going through many options, we finally settled on Texas, the Barton Creek Greenbelt to be exact.