I’ve asked a few friends and followers to submit some content as “guest” blogs and Jamie Flanagan is the first up. I’ve met Jamie a few times on uplifts at Bike Park Wales, we share a love of 90s rock that many wont even have heard of and he likes to take pictures of car parks.
However, he is a downhill shredder, top bloke and I should ride more often with him. Anyway, this is his blog not mine today so have a read below. Over to you buddy…
This article has been written before and I’d think there are close parallels in surfing and climbing amongst others but they are what they are. So I’d like to talk to you about something that drives a lot of my riding – that feeling of being ‘inside’.
I was first there many years ago on a trail just up above Peaslake called Silent Treatment on my first real mountain bike with the guy who started MTB for me. I was back in the same place only a couple of years ago riding abroad down a never ending loam filled natural corkscrew rollercoaster on a single pivot sledge hammer of a bike. Lastly there is a wood in Shropshire that we rode in spring of last year that I will always remember.
In all the hours of over twenty years of riding, these are the stand out memories. The bikes come and go as do those with whom I ride, but there were a few common feelings to all of those runs above. Firstly there is silence – no noise from the outside world not even those of tires in dirt. Secondly, I don’t feel a thing whilst in this place – I’m not breathing hard, no aches or pain even at the end of a hard-charging day. Lastly, it all comes together as the bike and I seem to blend together with the track.
There are also circumstances that seem to bring on the feeling – sunshine helps for sure, companions can be key and conditions for some speed stand out for me. You don’t need a £7K bike or a foreign holiday however. Lastly, the knowledge of that run being inside only comes later after the day is done, sometimes long after.
I’ve no idea when I will be back here, but the possibility keeps me fascinated so I’ll keep trying to get back ‘in’. Maybe inside is a gift you have to earn but won’t necessarily receive. It can’t be bought, trained for, planned, booked or even anticipated. As a result, inside slips through my fingers like smoke.
This is me and you may very well be entirely different, but I’d be delighted if some of you know what I am trying to say. To those of you that do, I need add nothing. To those that don’t I am sorry to admit I can’t help either as I know no definite recipe. In many respects, none of the above really matters as long as you’re having fun. Each to their own, but for myself I’m fascinated and can’t stop chasing inside down thin lines of dirt in the woods.