Describe a bicycle ride trip which you undertook with your friends through a mountainous terrain. approx 500 words
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Bicycle riding has always been one of my favorite sports and hobby which I always used to do in my spare time. In fact, I use to ride the bicycle to go to my school and I am quite good at it. My friends are also bicycle riders and we often do the bicycle races on the weekends or on Sundays. Once, I and my friends planned to ride the bicycle through a mountainous terrain. It was hell of adventurous ride trip for us. We were quite excited to start the trip, but as we started riding over the terrain. It was terrific, horrible or I don't know how to define it. From the height, to the depth.. my heartbeat used to fluctuate as well. Whenever the steep came my friends used to do hooting and I was a part of their hooting as well. May be they were sensing that I am quite afraid, well I tried my best not to show them that how I was feeling. But still they were able to get that. It lasted for a few minutes only and once I learnt the tactics of riding over there it was quite easy for me and I started enjoying it with my friends. Overall, it was really a very good experience riding through the mountainous terrain
Bicycle riding has always been one of my favorite sports and hobby which I always used to do in my spare time. In fact, I use to ride the bicycle to go to my school and I am quite good at it. My friends are also bicycle riders and we often do the bicycle races on the weekends or on Sundays. Once, I and my friends planned to ride the bicycle through a mountainous terrain. It was hell of adventurous ride trip for us. We were quite excited to start the trip, but as we started riding over the terrain. It was terrific, horrible or I don't know how to define it. From the height, to the depth.. my heartbeat used to fluctuate as well. Whenever the steep came my friends used to do hooting and I was a part of their hooting as well. May be they were sensing that I am quite afraid, well I tried my best not to show them that how I was feeling. But still they were able to get that. It lasted for a few minutes only and once I learnt the tactics of riding over there it was quite easy for me and I started enjoying it with my friends. Overall, it was really a very good experience riding through the mountainous terrain
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It begins with a couple of pedals. Around and around the wheels go and soon you're off on your bike. Sound simple? Trekking over a rural scene and being pursued by dogs somewhat exhausting? Attempt mountain biking. I love it.
I go mountain biking with my friends each Sunday at the beginning of the day and get back in time for lunch. I've been called insane, yet the excite and outright dread that mountain biking has ingrained in me is something I will always remember.
For the first five minutes my legs burn, I have a feeling that I'm creeping in mud and being bubbled alive all in the meantime. At that point, I achieve the summit of the modest slope and reprimand myself for being such a weakling. I at last make sense of that I was riding in high apparatus as opposed to moving down to first.
There's one hill I completely prefer not to climb. There aren't just heaps of stone shakes on pleasantly cleared trails for those with inconvenience climbing, yet in addition inclining sheets of shake that must be scaled. Sweat dribbles at me, obscuring my vision. My legs feel fluffy and it winds up noticeably hard to pedal with the lactic corrosive working in my thighs. I can truly fondle the burning creep my legs, similar to flame eating at the paper. At that point, I truly begin to ask why I woke up in any case. At long last, I achieve the best and see the valley beneath. At that point, the genuine fun starts.
It feels like a practically vertical drop, backpedaling down the mountain. I surrender tallying what number of individuals and mutts I scarcely miss at my very fast speed. I hit an extensive shake and for a moment my heart feels like it will stop.
Another jettison shows up under my tires and again I get myself airborne. Half of me shouts I will die. I simply know it! The other a large portion of, the verbal part, is whooping as loud as possible, "Yeeeehaaaaaw!"
Reality at last hits when I come back to the parking garage where my father is holding up. No longer on an adrenaline surge, the rest of the energy leaks from my body as I battle to lift my bicycle and place it in the storage compartment. And after that, the cramps set in.
It feels like I had been kicked in the back. My back is so battered from the jarring ride that it is about difficult to sit. Quite soon I feel sufficiently frantic to request a back rub from somebody, despite the fact that that isn't likely. Yet, the excite and fervor of being almost gutted on a mountain-biking trip dependably exceed the agony of biker's back.
I go mountain biking with my friends each Sunday at the beginning of the day and get back in time for lunch. I've been called insane, yet the excite and outright dread that mountain biking has ingrained in me is something I will always remember.
For the first five minutes my legs burn, I have a feeling that I'm creeping in mud and being bubbled alive all in the meantime. At that point, I achieve the summit of the modest slope and reprimand myself for being such a weakling. I at last make sense of that I was riding in high apparatus as opposed to moving down to first.
There's one hill I completely prefer not to climb. There aren't just heaps of stone shakes on pleasantly cleared trails for those with inconvenience climbing, yet in addition inclining sheets of shake that must be scaled. Sweat dribbles at me, obscuring my vision. My legs feel fluffy and it winds up noticeably hard to pedal with the lactic corrosive working in my thighs. I can truly fondle the burning creep my legs, similar to flame eating at the paper. At that point, I truly begin to ask why I woke up in any case. At long last, I achieve the best and see the valley beneath. At that point, the genuine fun starts.
It feels like a practically vertical drop, backpedaling down the mountain. I surrender tallying what number of individuals and mutts I scarcely miss at my very fast speed. I hit an extensive shake and for a moment my heart feels like it will stop.
Another jettison shows up under my tires and again I get myself airborne. Half of me shouts I will die. I simply know it! The other a large portion of, the verbal part, is whooping as loud as possible, "Yeeeehaaaaaw!"
Reality at last hits when I come back to the parking garage where my father is holding up. No longer on an adrenaline surge, the rest of the energy leaks from my body as I battle to lift my bicycle and place it in the storage compartment. And after that, the cramps set in.
It feels like I had been kicked in the back. My back is so battered from the jarring ride that it is about difficult to sit. Quite soon I feel sufficiently frantic to request a back rub from somebody, despite the fact that that isn't likely. Yet, the excite and fervor of being almost gutted on a mountain-biking trip dependably exceed the agony of biker's back.
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