Women's Riding

I rode with the women yesterday. In my world, this is really significant. Occasionally, but increasingly rarely, I paddle with women, but, since I left Canada in 2012, I haven’t, even once, climbed or skied with another woman! I have done one or two walks along local trails, but only one real bushwalk in all that time. Astonishing isn’t it?

There are a lot of women bicyclists on the south coast. The Eurobug cycle group has many women members but I’m not a fan of bombing up and down fire-trails (most Eurobug rides are loops around fire trails), so, after attending a few times I gave that up. I’m not one of those people who can do things they don’t really like simply to fit in or socialize. In truth, I’ve never been a fan of the “women only” adventures (which in 2026 can now include men who think they are a women), but I have to admit they have a place.

That place, for me, is mountain biking. I’ve got a lot more chance of hanging with the lads kayaking, climbing or skiing, but very little chance of hanging with the men mountain biking unless the men are completely untrained. Mountain biking is a power sport. The faster you can ride the easier the descents and you have to keep the bicycle moving uphill or you’ll stall out. Men, owing to bigger frames, more muscle, denser bones, bigger lungs (etc., etc.) can generate more power than women (on average).

The local mountain bike club runs a women’s cycle morning about once a month. It is generally on a Sunday and as I usually paddle on Sundays I had not attended any events. But, the numbers for my Sunday paddle have dwindled so much (as to approach zero attendees) that this weekend we paddled on Saturday and I left home at 7:30 am on Sunday to ride from home up to ridge top above the Botanic Gardens and down to meet the women’s group at 8:30 am. That distance doesn’t actually take me an hour but I wanted to allow a little recovery time before the ride started as I feared I might be the only person on an analog bicycle.

There were three analog bikes among the nine riders, both younger than me but hopefully I wouldn’t be too slow. A lot of people who ride down this way ride a lot whereas I ride about once a week. To my delight, I was not the slowest on the uphills, but I am pretty sure I was slowest on the downhills. Somebody has to be slowest and social rides are just that social rides. No-one minds waiting a minute or two. Although I have zero mountain biking technique skills, I am used to riding straight through without a break and that was the strength I was able to bring.

After the ride we had drinks at the delightful cafe in the Botanic Gardens. I often take visitors there as the gardens are lovely with a variety of walks, and the cafe has a big wrap around deck where you can sit overlooking the flora and fauna. The rest of the women were finished riding but, of course, I still had a few hills to go on the ride home. My legs were a bit cooked by the time I got home as I had ridden 28 kilometres with 700 metres of gain. It’s not the distance that flogs your legs, it’s the elevation gain.