What? Thirty days gone already?
2003-07-28 at 11:19 a.m.
....aaaaaand, I'm back.I have been riding, just not much, no big rides. Fourth of July, another kick-in-the-pants heatwave or two (and we're starting ANOTHER one today, thankyouverymuch), helping Dan and Emily move into their first home (which is super cute and fantastic, by the by--I can't IMAGINE a better first home, it fit them that well), a day at the coast with the husband... all conspired to keep my milage down.
Okay, okay, those are just excuses. I've been riding to class and to errands (and, in fact, have--sadly--sold the Beetle, so now the bike is my only mode of transportation that I don't have to negotiate with Andrew for: "Can you ride your bike to work so I can have the car today?" gets old really fast), so I've gotten at least ten miles a day, but I haven't challenged myself. No Lungbuster Hill, no Mount Tabor, not even Springwater Corridor.
Yesterday, though, I came back. With a nasty, gravel burning, Justin Timberlake, Skyline Drive vengeance.
Don't be so quick to... walk away
Forest Park is this huge park on the west side of town. Huge. Ginormous. And there's this 11 1/2 mile drive through the park that's called Leif Erikson Drive. It's wooded, gorgeous and, despite what someone might tell you, not paved. If I'd known that, I definitely would have changed my tires. Sadly, I didn't. So I had my slicks, my street tires, my really really narrow and really really smooth tires on. Which isn't so good on gravel. At all.
So there's that.
So you grab your girls and you grab a couple more
And the other thing about Leif Erikson? It's all uphill, all the time. Pretty much the first six miles. Oh, I'm not talking any great monolithic 45 degree angle or anything. Just a nice, steady (gravelly) incline that just. Doesn't. Stop. Switchback on switchback of up. And up. And. Up.
Meanwhile, I'm getting passed by dads with their ten-year-old sons.
Slow and steady, I keep saying to myself. Enjoy the scenery. And it was gorgeous, the scenery. Sun-dappled, tree-filled, fresh-smelling (edge of cliff-falling) beautiful uphill gravel.
Whee.
And you all come meet me in the middle of the floor
Actually, that makes it sound bad. I mean, it was no walk in the park, or anything (hell, it was a ride in the park if anything) but I took a break when I felt I needed one, and took my own sweet time, and felt as long as I wasn't walking my bike up a hill, I was coming out ahead.
And then I took a wrong turn.
Oops.
Said the air is thick, and it's smelling right
Leif Erikson drive gets much better after the six-mile mark. Or so I'm told. I, however, took the hard left instead of the soft left at mile six, and continued up even further. I didn't know I'd done this until I passed a gate and asked a passing biker, "Where the hell am I?" Yeah, I was on Skyline Drive. I'd gone all the way to the top. Accidentally. That's my excuse, really, for how tired my thighs are today. (Ha.)
So you blast to the left and you sail to the right.
Fortunately, that meant there was no more Up to go. It was all down. Lots and lots of down. I got up to 35 miles per hour--on a road with lots of curves, lots of blind spots, and no shoulder, so it was a fairly tense 35 miles per hour--going down Skyline Drive to get back into town. There were breathtaking vistas when the trees broke, and I passed some huuuuuuge houses and a bird sanctuary, so there was some cool sight-seeing, and I got home in time to feed Becca's kitties and relax. All this after a day of heavy lifting getting Dan and Emily situated. No wonder I'm beat today.
The worst part about yesterday, though? Great beautiful 30-mile ride that I finished by noon, before it got hot?
Hurry up boy 'cause you're taking too long
I could. Not. Get. That Song. Out. Of. My. Head. I don't even know all the words, so the same six or so lines kept going through my head, in a crazy early-80's Michael Jackson falsetto.
Gonna have you nekkid by the end of this song.