![]() ![]() I couldn’t see the smarts in taking a formative childhood pastime like bike riding and making it into a gear-intensive, expensive, adult(ish) thing. I simply questioned the wisdom of exposing young kids to extreme sports. It wasn’t the potential physical danger that gave me pause. Our regular old bike rides, the kind where you have to pedal uphill instead of taking a chairlift, the kind where you wear shorts and a shirt instead of a back protector and full-face helmet, were now apparently too tame for Henry and Silas. We spend a lot of time in Colorado’s Winter Park, and the resort’s Trestle Bike Park is always abuzz with downhillers. ![]() The totality of downhill mountain biking-the uniform, the speed, the daring-entranced my two sons, eight-year-old Henry and six-year-old Silas, this summer. They throw themselves off steep drops and bomb down narrow trails. Walk around the base of any downhill-mountain-bike park, and the people pedaling look like extras from the movie Batman: full-face helmets, body armor, and bikes that could withstand a typhoon. ![]()
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