Somehow, in just seven hours, women became 7-year-olds again. Strangers became friends. And perfect knees became mounds of bruise.

It happened Saturday, during the fifth annual Dirty Divas Mountain Bike Workshop. Sponsored by MTB-Cincy, it was seven hours of women versus roots, logs and steps at Tower Park in Fort Thomas.

The goal is not just to teach women how to successfully get down a dirt path. That is, however, a bonus.

The workshop takes women of every fitness level and puts them on bikes. While that might not sound extraordinary, somewhere among the trees and the rocks and the sticks, a transformation happens.

There's beauty in riding a bike in that environment, soaring beneath treetop canopies and coaxing tires around unpaved curves. There's a childlike quality about popping wheelies and riding over branches and logs. There's even joy in relishing a fresh scab or in getting palms dirty and raw from a fresh fall.

The women emerge from the trails bruised, bloodied and muddy, but also filled with courage, pride and an unquenchable spirit.

Jen Anderson, one of the founding members of the MTB-Cincy team and a Dirty Diva leader, had a first-hand glimpse of the women's accomplishments.

"I see women doing things that they never thought they would ever do," she said. "Seeing faces go from complete fear to complete confidence in just one day is such an amazing feeling."

In the morning, about 50 bikers were split into groups according to fitness level. There were intermediates, beginners, and the oh-my-god-this-bike-is-wobbly first-timers. Every hour or so, the groups rotated to a different course.

The first course for my group was a short, technical one. Here, the bikes were not our friends. Neither were the steep hill or the bridge.

Wounds included bruises and one incident that drew blood. Two of us cried. One of us (me) fell off the bridge, resulting in oozy road rash (or "bridge rash") and a big welt with a raw scrape above my right knee.

This is where we came up with the team motto: "We like to fall a lot."

The next course involved drop-offs. What is probably a few inches looked like the distance between the top of the Carew Tower and Fountain Square from the seat of a bike.

That's where I got the worst bruise ever. It's about the size of an avocado, from where a bike seat tried to impale me.

Subsequent courses involved uphill training, turning corners, and staring down a hill of steps and crying.

At the end of the day, the triumph overshadowed the tribulation. Everyone was sore and sweaty, but smiling.

Anderson summed it up best.

"I feel so proud and sometimes even get tears in my eyes when I see someone complete a task and get so excited that they did it," she said. "I love that no matter how many times they fall, they get right back up and try again.

"They're tough and they're strong. They're mountain bikers!"

As difficult as it was to complete the tasks, it must have been even tougher setting up this event. The MTB-Cincy women (and a handful of very helpful male Divas at heart) loaned out bikes and helmets, put air in tires and fed hungry bikers. They even hung signs from trees along the trail that read "Eyes ahead," and "I trust my bike."

Most of all, they made mountain biking look easy.

It's not - but that's not what mattered at the end of the day. It was the satisfaction in reaching a goal. It was the pride in conquering fears. And it was the numbers and e-mail addresses that were traded among new friends.

With Dirty Divas, a group of women learned how to climb mountains successfully.

Together.

E-mail mdowns@enquirer.com