Man's Best Friend by Richard Belson

Have you ever had one of those riding buddies who's still a little new to the sport, but is so eager to try stuff that he'll just bound ahead without knowing any better? It's usually the same guy that will do the sick line, then hang out at the bottom waiting for you, but be right in the middle of the roll-out just because he doesn't know any better.

I have one of those riding buddies and, though he's been coming out riding with me for a couple of years now, he's only improved marginally at staying out of the trannies at the bottom of drops. There are times where he still gets in the way and despite my repeated panic-induced order-barking, he's completely unphased and just keeps sniffing around in a daze.

There is a little latitude for his thick-headedness, mind you. After all, he is a dog.

As soon as I start collecting my riding gear, his absent tail starts to vibrate uncontrollably as he bolts toward the door. If I even motion toward my riding gear or move my bike, he snaps up, floppy ears at attention. Any time I start loading the car with my riding gear, he has to be right there to make sure I don't forget him, or at least whining to the point that there's know way I'll leave him behind. When we get to the trail head, he can be a little noisy if there are strangers. (read "people who are not me") See, Monty has a few self-esteem issue to work through, and they are very evident when he's bored of waiting in parking lots while he is surrounded by gaggles of riders preparing for muddy mayhem.

"Lizzie" by Tune

As soon as we head out, though, the barking stops. For every pedal stroke I take on the climbs, he is no less than one foot away from my cranks. When things get steep, he takes the lead and provides me with more climbing motivation than any riding partner I've ever had. At times, his lead will grow to the point that his herding instinct will kick in, and he'll circle around the back of me to make sure I get up the hill.

Somehow, this once skittish, nervous-nelly of a dog is instantly transformed into a dog with a purpose. He must get Me up that hill, and that is his sole reason for existing there and then. It seems to work, because by the time I've broken a sweat, we're at the top.

A little while ago, we went for a ride together, just the two of us. I had the climb of my life (parking to the top of the power-lines at Crazy Carpenter with one dab for you Woodlot types) yet he was still off the front, mocking me with every light-footed step he took.

A little here about Australian Shepherds…They're known for being high energy, having a deep-seeded love to work and make their keepers happy and are extremely strong and intelligent. Monty is a prime example. (VERY high energy, loves to make me happy, he runs and jumps better than any dog anywhere, and shows great potential in the intelligence department, though I have yet to harness it.)

While I sat on the ground beside my Torrent to suit-up for the hair-raising descents only the Woodlot can dish out, he lay calmly at my side looking for some Clif Bar love. Fortunately for him and me, I remembered to bring his Meaty Bones along for a dog-specific treat. Funny thing about energy bars and dogs…Clif/Power/Energy bars are designed for 150-200 pound humans…One energy bar plus a 37-pound dog makes for a level of spasticity where sleep becomes an impossibility. Be careful…and NO CHOCOLATE!

"Orion" by Blaine Louis

The rest of that ride, I rode stunts with absolute confidence that I'd never even attempted before. All the while, however, I pictured having to scream "Go get help Monty! Tell them I broke my leg on the first big drop on Carpenter!" in agony. He would then proceed to run off Lassie-style and get taken in by some well-intentioned Maple Ridge family with a fireplace and endless fresh meat scraps while I died of gangrene in the forest.

Somehow, against my better judgment, that was probably one of the best rides we had all year. It was the day he finally learned to listen when I say "No" as I'm approaching a teeter-totter, and it was the day I learned that I could drop better on a hardtail than a dually, and to trust the nose-down technique of hitting trannies.

There are times he needs to endure socks taped around his feet to let the trail cuts heal, but I have to say, he loves riding more than I do, and if he could talk, he'd probably tell me the cuts totally worth it. If I ever leave without him for a ride, I can hear him whimpering until the second I close the car door and head off to meet my human riding buddies, completely guilt-ridden and a couple more rungs further down the Karma ladder from when I woke up that morning.

Be nice to your dog… All he wants to do is love and be loved. What better way than on a ride?

Richard Belson
top photo of "Monty" by Richard