Opening your bag mid-ride to grab a snack can be a harrowingly sticky and messy process.
Hopeful the banana you packed several hours prior is going to satiate your appetite, you reach into the depths of your pack.
Your fingers search through your possessions.
Something sharp – your multi-tool – is the first thing you encounter. Then, something flexible and thin; ah, it’s your inner tube. Feeling past these, you fondle your phone and wallet, ignoring them on the quest for the true prize.
At the very bottom, there’s something soggy, damp and neglected. It feels squishy and there’s some residue left on your hands as you feel around.
Your heart sinks.
The contents of your pack have bounced around as you pushed on down the most recent descent, essentially turning the bag into a mobile macerating machine.
Your once-fresh, perfectly ripe banana is now a shell of its former self; its taut skin is deflated and pierced. Its fleshy insides ooze from every crack.
Bruised as if it’s been in a fight with Mike Tyson, it’s impossible to peel open.
With the structural integrity equivalent to the toilet paper in a run-down service station – where anything harder than mild pressure results in a breach – there's only one method left to consume your once coveted trail-side snack.
Clenching your fist around its bruised body, its sugary insides are squeezed from its bruised skin and slide down your gullet.
In the process, mashed banana clings to the underside of your fingernails; its sticky residue is impossible to remove without access to running water.
The inside of your bag has suffered a similar fate.
Not only is the belly of its cavity now covered with a sweet-smelling (for the time being) puree, it has also turned your once gleaming multi-tool into an approximation of its former self.
Artists would call it impressionism – the sharp Allen keys have been smothered by banana flesh, and its body has sprouted some bulbous extensions. Banana is stuck to its every contour.
Similarly, your wallet, phone and inner tube are now pasted with a cold, sticky mess that's only going to dry and crust up as your ride continues.
You curse your pre-ride optimism; mindful of a banana’s highly strung temperament, you still put your faith in its yellow skin to successfully contain the soft, fleshy insides.
But now, atop the climb, you wish you hadn’t.
Not only was your snack ruined, you’ve added a good chunk of time to your post-ride clean-up. A hose-down won't do it; you're going to have to scrub every nook and cranny of your bag's hold to avoid a mouldy, stinky mess.
Pausing before the final descent, you imagine your fridge at home.
Mentally scanning each shelf, you can visualise its contents: yogurt, milk, broccoli, a pack of cheese, some meat… a handful of carrots.
The penny drops.
Edible raw with its own skin, but also tough; the carrot is a masterpiece.
Unless one has been put through an industrial-sized blender, they can withstand significant levels of bashing about before exhibiting any signs of misuse.
Unsquashable and un-mushable, the carrot is seemingly equipped to survive even the darkest, most cavernous depths of your riding pack and still be withdrawn fresh and undamaged.
Crunchy and satiating, full of micro- and macronutrients, and delightfully brightly coloured, the humble carrot has the potential to be a superfood in the battle of trail-side snacks.
Put through the same gruelling test as the banana, the carrot emerges unscathed.
Its internals haven’t plastered themselves over the walls of your bag, and neither have they got stuck to your treasured possessions.
They can be small or large, making them excellently flexible for any person’s specific stowage requirements.
While you’ll need to eat roughly double the amount of carrot (in grams) compared to banana to get your fill of calories, they’ve got 4 per cent more protein and 3 per cent more fat than an equivalent amount of banana (according to soupersage.com).
That means you’ll feel satiated quicker and for longer, even if there are 9 per cent fewer carbs.
If you’re looking for a cleaner, more convenient biking food, then I implore you to ditch the messy banana in favour of the clean, crunchy and beautifully orange humble carrot.
I've been eating carrots trail-side for five years now and haven't looked back since.
