True Confessions of a Dirt Addict |
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
Hello, my name is Troy Hopwood and......and.....and I'm an addict. There I said it. Yes it's true, I am addicted to dirt. I just can't get enough of it. I breathe in it's dusty vapor every chance I get. I have pure mud pumping through my veins. And I need more!
As my body gets used to the dirt, it takes more and more to satisfy. A trail that used to provide a good 3 hour high is now only 2 hours. I need longer trails, more challenging trails. I need more dirt! I'm always checking out new trails looking for that bigger, better high. Each ride feels great, pure ecstasy. But still each ride leaves me wanting more and more. I find myself driving for hours just for the hopes of a bigger better trail. I'll do anything for my next fix.
|"I'll do anything for my next fix."|
After a long epic ride or even a short local trail, I'll come home and nurse my wounds. Endos, wipeouts, blackberry bushes and even cliffs are all some of the perils of my addiction. I know I am hurting myself, but I just can't stop. I keep telling myself, "I'm young" or, "It won't happen to me, I'm in control." The pain, however, always goes away once I'm back on my bike.
Like all addictions, an addiction to dirt is extremely expensive. I find myself wandering local bike shops drooling, Visa card in hand, as I stare at all the gear I absolutely must have. When I'm not on the trail getting my fix, I have to be buying stuff to get ready for the next high. Just this week I went into such a bike shop suffering from my worst case of the D.T.s yet. When I came to the next morning I had a brand new $3300 full suspension rig in my living room sitting next to a brand new hard tail for my girlfriend. I've got it bad.
Now I've been told that I'm not just hurting myself, but others close to me as well. I have no time for friends or family. If they don't have a bike that is. I prefer to share my high with those around me so I keep a close circle of friends that share my addiction. Others with like minds -- dirty, that is. I also tend drag those "clean" friends down with me. Sure they may not care about dirt now, but a little peer pressure and soon their nostrils, too, are flaring, taking in as much dirt as they can get.
|" The pain always goes away once I'm back on my bike."|
As a dirt addict, I know not everyone is going to agree with my lifestyle. Some see me as a freak and a menace. They call me destructive. These people, thinking they know what is best for everyone, are trying to make my dirt illegal. Dirt used to be readily available. A quick fix could be readily found in practically any neighborhood. But now, it is harder and harder to find. Citizen groups have chased me away. Now I travel farther and farther out into the forests to find my much needed and legal dirt.
Now don't take this as a cry for help. I AM an addict, but I'm proud of it. There are thousand of people just like me and odds are you are one of them. If you are, I'll see you in the dirt.