When I'm out riding my mountain bike today—which is not exactly rare—I hardly recognize my own sport anymore. Ten years ago, mountain biking was a vibrant subculture for me, but today it seems more like an afternoon gathering for seniors at a spa resort.

I remember the time when mountain bikers were considered a breath of fresh air in the dusty world of summer tourism and mountain bike technology roused the bicycle industry from its road bike hibernation. We were the breath of fresh air, the Alpine rebels, the adventurers. In short: the cool kids on two wheels. Mountain biking wasn't a sport, it was a way of life. And today? When I'm out on the trails, I see less and less of that infectious energy. Bikers who are hooting with joy as they obsessively carve out a rideable line on tricky single trails? Haven't seen that in ages. Alpine crossers setting off for Lake Garda with oversized backpacks and even bigger dreams? Hardly ever seen anymore. Night rides with headlamps in the forest, semi-legal but thrilling? Not really. I used to ride my bike naked down the local mountain in Biel, where I lived at the time, to the outskirts of the city on August 1. Admittedly, that was a little crazy, but looking back, it was symbolic of how much spirit there was in this sport. Today, when I meet young mountain bikers, they are crammed into shuttle buses, buckled up, full-face helmets on their laps, on their way to the next downhill consumption round. In the alpine outback, on the other hand, there is a yawning emptiness of youth from my point of view. What I encounter en masse instead (not on the trail, but on the gravel road up to the alpine pasture) are mountain bikers of a more sedate age, helmets on their foreheads, saddles too low, emotionally and technically overwhelmed by the nearest root. My subjective impression: the rebel gang has become a senior citizens' club. The motor: the beginning of the end Looking back, there is a key date for me when mountain biking gave up its soul: the invention of the e-mountain bike. No, this isn't cheap, self-righteous e-bike bashing. It's more of a sober observation: the motor has triggered a flood of retirees into our sport. I wholeheartedly wish every single retiree well in discovering the fascination of mountain biking. I'm even a little proud that "my" sport now has such a broad base. 

In my own family, I have seen how fascinating mountain biking can be, even into old age. That's wonderful, it's touching, and it's great from a social perspective. But it has significantly changed the character of the sport. And not in a way that I like. This is particularly evident in a recent report from the canton of Aargau: there, a group of retirees takes care of maintaining the trails. I think that's great, but I also see the signal it sends: it's a sport for old people.

The coolness factor of mountain biking has effectively imploded due to the flood of retirees.

If I were in my mid-twenties today, I would probably also go for a gravel bike. Not because of the fascination, but because that's where the cool people are. Mountain biking, on the other hand, has lost its edge. Adventure has become a popular sport. Rebellion has become mainstream acceptance. My analysis: The sport has developed in a direction that I don't like. We've become uncool. And this is coming from someone who is over 50 years old and whose own coolness peaked long ago. Someone who now spends three-quarters of his time in the motorized department. So maybe I've just become one of those old folks who mourns the good old days and complains about his peers. Maybe I'm exactly the type of person I would have smiled at mildly in the past: a romanticized view of the past, coupled with selective and romanticized memories. And most likely, I'm no longer the cool guy I used to be, but a nostalgic knee-sock wearer.

Shut up and ride!

And yet, as I think about the development of mountain biking, I am reminded of an old advertising slogan from the early days of mountain biking: "Shut up and ride!" That's exactly what I'm going to do: tackle the next Alpine adventure. Maybe not a naked ride anymore. But I'll continue to live out my rebellious side. It has made me who I am today, thanks to mountain biking. No matter how cool my socks are.