The Bakery: Wear a F*cking Helmet, You F*cktard!

I am not one to tell other people how to live their lives. I am usually the supportive friend, the one you go to when you know your life decision is terrible but you want someone to agree with you. Recently, however, I have had to restrain myself from opening my living room window, leaning out in my pajamas with mascara under my eyes and shaking my fist like an old person while yelling at the douchebag riding by without a helmet on. He rides by every morning and I have actually thought about lying in wait and jumping out from behind a parked car to push him off his bike just to prove my point. What’s my point?

Riding without a helmet is a total douche move.

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The Bakery: Don’t Call it A Comeback

Tara Llanes is the Queen of Comebacks. When you hear her name most people will think of the 4-Cross crash that left her with a complete spinal cord injury, but there is a lot more to what Tara has overcome and what she has done to stay connected to an industry that she calls family.

Tara fell in love with bikes when she was eleven, the year she started racing BMX. Eight years later she made the switch to mountain biking and shortly thereafter won gold at the X-Games. In her first year of racing professionally Tara crashed and broke her collarbone at Nationals in Washington. In an interview in 2000 Tara expressed that she thought no one would want to sponsor her after that, little did she know that the support of her bike family would see her though a lot more than a broken collarbone, or three.

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The Bakery: The Dangers of Riding in TIght Pants

I like men who ride in tight jeans. I enjoy watching them struggle to pull their jeans up over their kneepads, I think because it looks roughly as awkward and exposed as I feel when I’m peeing in the woods.

I am not really one to worry much about what other people ride in, aside from a slight jealousy when I see 16-year-old boys looking better in tight pants than I do, but a simple Google search reveals scads of people with strong opinions about this particular fashion choice in our riding community.

There is nothing that ages you more than criticizing the fashion choices of a new generation, and yet there are pages and pages of references to “girl jeans”, emo kids, and the superiority of riding in tights. Among these opinionated folk there also seems to be some debate about the appropriate age for tight pants. Forum experts weigh-in with everything from no appropriate age, to you have to be pre-pubescent, or pre-thirty. This is something I probably should be taking into account.

Are fashion trends really all that dangerous to our health? We still see girls in stilettos regardless of all the public safety announcements about the damage they can do to our feet, legs, and backs. I decided to spend some time researching the dangers of riding in tight pants. The Internet will have you believe that there are some real disadvantages to making yourself into a mountain biking sausage, and some of them are kind of gross.

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The Bakery: I’ve Found Religion

I’m not what you would consider a religious person. In fact the last time I was in church the priest interrupted the marriage ceremony to tell me not to stand on God’s furniture to take photos. I think God would want you to have nice wedding photos, don’t you? There’s also the small matter of religion rejecting me before I could reject it. My parents tried to have me baptized because it seemed like the right thing to do, unfortunately the minister in our small town refused because I was a bastard; my parents weren’t married. The little old ladies were up in arms over it and protested, but the minister held his ground. Good for him for believing in something. For me it took a little longer to find somewhere I wanted to be every Sunday.

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The Bakery: My Mom is the Bob Barker of Mexico

My mom is the Bob Barker of Mexico. If your dogs aren’t spayed or neutered, she will get on her bike and hunt you down. Truth.

Ten years ago my mom started rescuing dogs in her village in Mexico. Five years ago she got a bike and a friend, and now rescues dogs in the surrounding towns. LaRae and Donna may seem like your average Mexico living, cruiser bike-riding, margarita-loving, cookie-making moms, but they’re not.

At the age of 56 my mom discovered biking when Fibromyalgia stopped her from participating in other activities. I helped her pick out a sweet pink cruiser bike, suitable for her retired life in Mexico. Within a few months she started asking for a better seat, then a mirror, then a computer to track her mileage. Mileage? Really? She was riding upwards of 20 kilometers a day, sending me photos from the middle of cow herds, mud puddles and new spots that she had once thought were much too far to ride to. One of her favorite stops when she comes home now is my local bike shop. Her most recent acquisition was a basket, but not one of those trendy wicker ones, nope. Mom needed a basket with support, one that can hold a lot of dog food, or a dog when needed.

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The Bakery: For the Love of Independent Bike Shops

Six years ago I showed up on the doorstep of my local bike shop and sheepishly admitted that I had broken up with my boyfriend before I had learned to fix my own bike.

Six years later I probably spend a little too much time there. I have been known to show up at their Christmas parties and the coffee place next door gives me a staff discount. It’s the kind of place where everyone knows your name, or some variation of it. They hassle you and high-five you. They give you hugs and lectures about not taking better care of your ride. They are family.

They are so much my family that I have introduced boyfriends to my dad before I have taken them to my bike shop. True story.

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The Bakery: The Power of Not Giving a F*ck

Be more like a skateboarder–that’s the latest life advice I have been given. Apparently I need to take a page from skate culture and learn how to not give a fuck. Mountain bikers are just too caring.

In an attempt to embrace these new words of wisdom and learn how to not give a fuck, I recently asked a friend who works in the skate industry to teach me.

He didn’t show up, because, clearly, he doesn’t give a fuck.

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