Where my ladies at?
by Bobbi Barbarich, Vue Weekly
A ramp, a teeter-totter and a wooden sidewalk sit amidst 23 women wearing baggy bike shorts and determined stares. We range in occupation from geology students to lawyers, but our bikes were all made for mountains.
Our eyes slow their shifting and settle on Danika Schroeter and Johanna Weintrager. Danika is tall, blonde and lithe. Johanna is a pixie with muscles. Both riders have competed in downhill racing. Weintrager is a nationally respected coach and Schroeter is a national downhill champion. They're chatting casually about their passions—namely, the two tires under their fit frames.
Despite their welcoming natures, I'm skeptical. Within moments of their introductions, we're on our bikes, circling the parking lot like vultures over a carcass. I'm circling my confidence. Schroeter and Weintrager mean to cajole me into attempting what I thought I would never do: careen down a mountain on a bike.
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