Thanks...

    It's funny to think about the time when I was younger and first started to mountain bike. I had a beater of a bike, my 1990 black giant iguna, probably less than 300 bucks. Nothing was advance technology as of today. I think the only cool upgrades I had on it was my Panaracer Smoke tires and my Onza bar ends. I use to beat the hell out of that hardtail. Now, a hardtail is a bike with front suspension and a rigid bike is well what I rode back then.

    I remember when the girvin-flex stem just came out and the Scott fork. The white Scott fork had just a coil spring inside the legs and the Frank-en-stem, I mean the girvin-flex stem was a hunk of metal clamped onto yer bars providing somewhat suspension for the front end. That big blob of metal scared me, I thought it would eat my knees.

    Then the first set of bar ends came out. I had a pair of silver Onza bar ends. Wow, they seem to make a big difference in my climbing, I seemed so much faster, they were awesome! So awesome until they started to hook onto the the trees or better yet lock together with another friends bar ends on a trail (that resulted in a sprain wrist).

    That first summer I had my bike, George and I would ride literally 7 days a week for the entire summer. A ride would be no less than 12 miles a day. Hell, I was 20 at the time, so I could do it! We would ride in and thru everything. Mud! hahahaha, hell I'm not going around it, I'm going thru it! "I got this far in here!". Stopping and standing in a puddle that was past my ankles. "Let's see how far you can peddle thru it!?" George seem to always do a little better than me but that was ok, it helped me push myself even harder to do better. But I would always smoke him going uphill. I guess weighting in at 125 pounds helped me out.

    We never worried about trail conditions as I do today. I can't ride here, it rained to much there, we'll cause to much damage, we don't want to piss the rangers off. This was never an issue back then but then again we rode thru coal stripping fields of Pennsylvania where houses have bloomed onto my favorite riding trails.

    Thanks George for introducing me to my most favorite and loved sport, hobby and passion. And thanks to Pennsylvania, especially Nanticoke, Wilkes-Barre (old Kirby park, where I learned a lot. WATCH out for that green monster puddle!!!), Kingston and all over that area (and I still glad I didn't ride over that train trussle!). I'm hoping that this summer I can come back to rekindle my memories and even get George off his quad and come for a ride with me.

Thanks Whibbles!!