More Hills

Some TRIgirls and Maramarc folks headed for the hills again this Saturday. (Mis)led by coaches Mark, Ed, and Blake, our sixty mile ride stretched into seventy! Wow. The fifty-miler we'd ridden a few weeks ago had been my longest bike to date.

Once again, Cyndi carried me and my bike up into the mountains. This time her husband accompanied us, as well. We departed the commuter lot at six am and returned at five thirty pm. Not just a morning ride. Some Canadian bikers along the way asked me how many were with our group. "Not as many as last time."

The thirty-five miles out was really a pleasant ride. The only thing I didn't enjoy about it was the realization of the reverse route.

There were a lot of interesting creepy crawlies on the ride. Shiny black beetles, thick segmented worms, fat colorful caterpillars. Totally different from any I come across here in town.

Part of the ride seemed more pasture than mountain, complete with grazing cattle.

Several vultures took air as I approached them. I couldn't see why they were there, but I could smell it.

I drank a twenty-ounce Coke at the turn-around. It was truly the nectar of the gods.

My chain fell off once. I had grease not only all over my hands, but subsequently all over my face. Does that make me look more or less professional?

A cycling tan is like a trucker tan, only different.

It's interesting to me how the highs and lows during an intense endurance activity mirror the highs and lows of everyday, only the intensity level of them reflects the level of exertion. I'm frequently emotional during long rides or runs. In the Blue Ridge, these emotional highs and lows are inversely proportional to the hills themselves. Going uphill, I curse myself, my bike, my coaches, the mountains. I vow to quit. Downhill, I could go on forever. This is the best ride of my life.

When I finally finish, six hours or days or years later, everything is different from when I started. The temperature, the air, the mood, me. The physical exhaustion leads to emotional exhaustion.

I'm proud of myself.