This appears to be the extent of my mountain biking. We rode (with Tito in the Chariot) down to the soda fountain this evening and back. After exiting the Chariot, Tito hauled his iBert and helmet out. How can a dad resist? So I loaded him and rode around the neighborhood for the next half hour finding the roughest terrain I could. He laughed and yelled the entire time.
At one point, I came up to an excavated trench; nice and rough but not rideable. So I hopped off and proceeded to walk the bike through it. Again, my howls of delight; especially when I lifted the entire bike off the ground yelling “BIG AIR!”
So between work, a month of extensive travel and spare time doing house additions and upgrades, I’ve put surpassed the miles on my MTB with my fixie from commuting and even then, it’s hardly anything.