The weirdest thing about catching the mountain biking bug really was the realisation that this meant transporting the thing previously thought of as the transport. Not one to hang around or make excuses for why I can't get out and ride, to the Manchester Tow Bar & Trailer Centre I drove. Walked out lighter of the pocket and lighter in step with an appointment to get the Mini fitted up with a tow hitch, and having made a selection of suitable bike carrier and appropriate length trailer board.
Had car, had bike, could travel. This was a big scary decision for me - obviously yet more money being chucked at making my life more fun, but also a commitment to the car, and the odd sensation of having nobody to approve or disapprove the decision. I'm my own woman, by necessity not through choice.
The bike rack has made all sorts of things possible. It's foldable and easy to store, sliding into the car boot or the lean to shed (ex outside toilet) at home. The bikes fit so neatly within the profile of the car I never feel any need to take wheels or saddles off to make it aerodynamic. I like to think I look incredibly competent as I set up the rack and secure the bikes to it with weird bungie objects from Aldi. It makes me feel good about myself, this simple thing.
The bike rack is big enough for two (ahhh, how cozy), and has taken me to Llandegla, Coed y Brenin, Scotland, Rivington and no doubt places I have forgotten. Weirdly the Mini is now the car of choice for weekends away despite not having the space of an estate. Love the bike, love the car. Feel the passion.
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