Mountain biking

It was a relationship breaker. I thought biking pleasantly through the trees on smooth trails would be wonderful. We told them we had done some mountain biking before and selected the intermediate trail. Carmen was apprehensive; she just knew it was going to be too difficult and "she didn't want to pay that much money to be miserable". Oh, come on Carm. It'll be great. Big mistake.

We rode in the back of a pick-up straight up a curvy hill for 30 minutes. Both of us almost threw-up from motion sickness. When we finally reached the top, we were issued full body armor: helmet, chest pad, shoulder pad, elbow pad, knew pad, and shin guards. The ride down was far worse than the ride up. My first fall was within five minutes. I hit a rock and flew straight over the handle bars, half somersaulting in the air. It was my first of seven falls. Carmen was more careful, but also fell a few times. The trail was a small boulder field in its best parts and a muddy, steep nightmare in its worse. Due to 24 hours of constant rain the day before, the trail was muddy and totally eroded. At the top of every hill, Carmen just looked at me with a deadly stare and shook her head.

"I love you Carmen"
"Philip. I used to love you too"
"That's the meanest thing you've ever said to me"
"This is the meanest thing you've ever done to me. Just go."

We finally made it to the bottom--three hours later--with all limbs attached and still dating. The other two gentlemen on the ride had left their wives at home and said they never would have made it. Carmen certainly didn't make it happily--but she biked well and fell less than any of the others. I was proud of her.

For repayment, Carm got many apologies, a wonderful dinner, and a long foot massage. I'm just glad we--and our relationship--survived.