downhilling chicks are HOT

So.. today was just one of those days when things out on the dirt just didn't seem to be making any sense. I don't know if it was the weather (it's autumn already and the dirt is getting soggy), if it was my bike (i'm surprised it hasn't fallen apart in a thousand pieces), if it was the after-effects of my exaggerated weekend training session or if it was only my girly technique after a couple of weeks of no "chipinking" and just pretending i was a roadie. Sure enough, there was something in the atmosphere which made me relentless about going on, yet I was stuck in a trail where there was no going back (due to safety measures) so I had to keep on riding.

After having made the whole circuit I took the fast way down: Don Toño's trail.. one of the most challenging downhills in the city region (there are really only about 2 or 3 true downhills). The recent rainfalls and the constant downhillers had managed to make the ditches reappear in the already demanding trail. Ditches are evil. I don't like ditches.

Almost at the end of the first part of Don Toño's trail, there was a fallen tree blocking the last few meters so an improvised drop had been rolled over to the right. I took it only to find myself at some point of the go-on-don't-go-back section I wrote about before and I was in the dilemma of riding a few yards downwards or just walk them.

I repeat.. I don't know what it was but I just wasn't in the mood of being called upon or whatever (those wood rangers are everywhere ¬¬) so I started fumbling downwards as tightly-cladded cross country cyclists do when out of their main element.

And then it happened.

I heard some sort of noise behind me and before I could react a downhiller girl (it seemed) passed lightning-fast next to me. She traversed the trail, disregarding any indications (boy am I lame) and disappeared into the bushes that mark the entrance of the second part of Don Toño's trail.

Wow.

After having overcome the initial humiliation to my cyclist manliness (sic), I suddenly realized the extreme HOTNESS of the act I had just witnessed: A young, blond, slim, long-haired, fair to the sight (at least from behind), cladded-in-downhill-armor and riding-an-awesome-bike girl had just swooned (as that is what girls do, ain't that right?) beside me. I couldn't but stand there with all thoughts vanishing into thin air. As soon as she passed it was all over. I'd probably never see her again, but anyway, would it even make a difference?

As I clumsily rode over the second part of the trail I started hating myself for wishing she'd fell so I could come in shining armor (actually dirty licra) and rescue her onto safety.. yeah, right.. Whatever. Soon enough (or maybe not much so), the joy of semi-downhillling (part1 and part2 are for sissies) came back to me and my mind soon wandered onto a happier place. I remembered wondering if she'd venture onto part 3. I've never been to part 3... I've heard terror and glorious stories about it, but I've never given myself the time to do it. I guess I could always argue that I like a lot the whole section to which part3 is a shortcut to and I don't want to miss it, but truth being said, I'm just no downhiller.



sexxy mammas

Minutes later as I was still wondering if the secret to my uneasy-riding was the combination of tire/pressure I was trying out at the moment, I had another sightning:

Et encore.

Bobbing over the saddle between flowery trails there she was, coming up and steady, bombing away her i-don't-know-how-many-pounds-bike uphill like there was no tomorrow, with some kind of fire in her eyes even the heartiest would quaver at. As I was going down and she was going up I could but utter a lame greeting as the time seemed to slow down just for a brief moment.. a curve and then that was it.

It was getting late and I thought of going all the way up again just to see if I was lucky enough to have another time-stopping moment for a second there... but the actual utility of my efforts (which is null) and the passing of daylight convinced me both to keep on riding down and away.

Only I couldn't. After saying hi to some weekend-warriors (working on weekdays?) I had to stop as the chemical-biological-electrical reactions were taking place on my quivery self and it was maybe as much as I could take.

I mean... what on Earth is sexier than a girl riding her bike like the devil ? I've seen roadie girls and they're sexy as long as they have that commuting-polo-crashing-indie kind of attitude, but those specimens are rarely found in Mexican territory (that I know of). I've also seen mountain biking girls.. some who actually beat the crap out of me out there on them singletracks and yeah, that's also quite amazing... yet there's something out of this world when a girl who is girly per sé has the power of a downhill bike between her legs.


that's no booth girl

Recently, the guys at my team and me were wondering (due to recent off road sightnings) how the perfect girlfriend would be for each of us and while some said some kind of amazonic-naked-sexthirsty-nympho-virgin-girls and others went for the classic readhead-90-60-90-kinky-mamma-woo-woo I couldn't think of anything sexier than a girl who beat me at what I am most passionate about. That's the real deal. Throw some big beautiful honey brown eyes on her and I'm a 12 year old trembling out of sight of them cooties.

That's the good thing about autumn: all the roadie and track girls can get a break from their systematic strict trainings and have a ball in mountain roads, it's like band camp, only that the dirty and adventurous who use to hang all year long get a visit from some special friends (as they say, off-season is just a state of mind). Wilkommen :D

crazy stuff

I'll end this geeky (in the bad way) post with a video of Mexico's greatest female downhiller, gold medallist at the panamerican games in Venezuela, 2008: Lorena Dromundo.



Click here if you don't see Lorena Dromundo's video.