In How to succeed at astrophotography — or at anything else, Michael Covington points out that the key to success in almost anything is knowledge, not stuff:
All too often, people buy gadgets, string them together, and assume that the machinery ought to know how to take the pictures. It doesn’t!
And they respond by buying yet more expensive gadgets, which they understand even less, and getting even more frustrated.
When I was big into mountain biking (before I bought a road bike, and before I injured my shoulder), my friend Jason and I were out at one of the most difficult trails in the area one day and ran across another cyclist. Walter joined up with us, and it wasn’t too long before we could tell that he wasn’t up to the challenge of this particular trail.
The problem with accepting another rider in the group is that etiquette demands that you stay together as a group. So we went slower and spent a lot of time waiting as Walter caught his breath or walked his bike over especially difficult parts of the trail.
Walter was a friendly enough guy, and quite impressed with his equipment. As well he should have been! In stock condition, his bike cost more than Jason’s and mine put together, and over the course of a few months he’d added the latest and greatest everything. After a half dozen or so anecdotes about how he went to the shop and had this or that added to his bike, Jason turned around and said, “Walter, sounds to me like you should spend more time on the trail and less time in the shop.”
I often see Walter’s spiritual twins when I’m out on the road. They’ll have the latest and greatest road gear–bikes that cost two or three times as much as mine (and mine wasn’t cheap)–but have difficulty climbing even the most modest of hills, or slow to a crawl when faced with the typical south wind. I understand that not everybody is a nut about cycling like I am, but when I talk to these people on the road their conversations are all about how better tires, lighter wheels, or some other mechanical improvement will allow them to ride farther and faster. Unlike my friend Jason, I don’t point out the obvious: that if they spent more time riding and less time worrying about their equipment, they’ll be astounded by their improvement. I just say, “have a good ride,” and pedal away on my own.
Get good equipment, but get just the basics at first. Learn to ride well, and to ride as well as your equipment will allow. Then upgrade–when you have the skill, knowledge, and fitness to take advantage of the better equipment.