Man vs. Mountain Bike: A cautionary tale

We get it. You're in a hurry. You want your exercise. And ripping down the narrow-gauge trails at Matthews Winters at 30 miles an hour is just fun. But get this: Next time you come screaming around the corner and expect me and my dog to jump out of the way, I'm not going to do it.

Instead, I'm going to pull to the side and give you an Iron Shiek clothesline. Not really, but I wouldn't mind.

This is the deal. We all need to share the trails. And, while I, too, understand how fun mountain biking can be, if you want to keep open access, you're gonna need to slow down when you see hikers. Believe me, I know.

Few will remember this, but back in the day -- before full-suspension bikes and 'potassium-magnesium' seats,  or whatever crazy new alloy they are using these days -- you could mountain bike just about anywhere in Colorado. I used to skid down from my house on the Mesa in Colorado Springs and tear it up on my 35-pound Giant Iguana in the Garden of the Gods. But then some biker skidded around the wrong corner and ran into the wrong person. Just a few weeks later, you couldn't mountain bike Garden of the Gods anymore. Lesson learned.

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