Monday morning Dave would call at about nine thirty to see if I was awake as he puts it.
Silly, I wake up normally by five and have already done the dishes,
swept the floor, and rebuilt an engine by the time he even sniffs
"Where we going today?" he would ask
"Back side of Stucky sounds good, awesome ride and I haven't had a
chance to downhill out on that end yet, looks like it would be a blast"
Sipping my Coffee the mental Image of me absolutely stuffing him on the
downhill would take over, knowing full well that a podium, champagne
and hot trophy girls awaited.
"Isnt that private land?" he would ask in his usual less than confident voice in my Ideas
"yup but I think we have permission I will text and see"
After a couple of hasty texts to other Mtn biking friends it was
determined that thru Association of the person who originally got
permission, that the granted permission was all encompassing and we
would be fine.
I would relay the information to Dave who I could hear doing his normal
uncomfortable shuffle thru the Phone, and of course would belay his next
excuse "So where are we going to park?"
This blew my mind, the absurdity of actually driving two miles ON
ASPHALT to go riding was just beyond me "Dude, its all of two miles,
before we hit the dirt"
That would seal the deal, off we would go and as it turns out it was
exactly two miles to dirt, sometimes I am amazing like that.
Off we would go on the climb, the start of our uphill battle of just over three miles an hour was to begin.
The climb was nice although the air was not moving much and at about the
halfway point we would stop and strap the helmets to our packs, we
would also take this time to offer nutrients to the surrounding foliage
via our Bladders.
We would then continue, with the speed of two turtles after a piece of
lettuce we would jockey for position before the next nonofficial stop.
Near the top I would point to what I knew was a hike a bike hill "Go get em lets see what you got"
His eyes would widen a bit as he would ask "You guys made it up that?"
Now one of the most important things in life is to learn how to properly
ask a question, yes we did make it up that, but no we did not peddle
very far up it.
"Yup go for it"
Off Dave would go, eager to prove he still had enough energy to show me up.
He would not make it far at all, but as he dragged his bike to the side his foot would drag a clear line in the dirt.
"So I guess you dont think I can make it past you"
He was defiant as he leaned up on his bike "Nope"
I clipped in and headed forward, my short legs spinning as fast as they
could, wind from my legs would part the grass on both sides of the
trail, bending the stems mightily in my wake.
I would easily pass his mark, my legs spinning I doubled his distance up the hill and called it good.
I would lay down the bike and beat my chest like the superior being I
truly was, for we all know, he who is king of the hill has bragging
rights and should be fed free beer all night.
You might want to write that down its important stuff.
Deflated he would hunch his shoulders and look up the hill, not looking
forward to the hike a bike he knew was coming, it was also at this point
he realized I had led him on yet again and that there was no way in
hell that hill could be peddled.
"Its ok, no point in going further" I would say to lift his spirits" the
good downhill is the road we just came up, let us tear it up"
And down he would happily go, while I can climb the steep stuff better
than him, he usually downhills faster than I, and he knew it, eager to
redeem himself he would tear off before I even got clipped in.
But I was feeling it today, especially since Saturday I had cried like a
school girl denied her Iphone on a climb because well It started to
snow and my Tush got cold.
I took off, determined to catch and stuff him, the wind would tear at me
and in my aging years all I could ask myself was why in the hell did i
forget to put in ear plugs again damn it.
But I didnt, and more important matters were before me, corner after
corner I would slowly gain on him, I would pick better lines and peddle
where he coasted.
Finally my chance came, about a quarter of a mile from the bottom a
sharp right hand corner was coming, I grabbed a fist full of rear brake
so I could slide in under him and better position the bike, but it was
mush and barely grabbed.
Now I was in the position of merely trying to save my ass from dropping
off the other side, and I would shoot past him just missing his rear
tire and hitting the corner wide.
I would manage to carry myself thru with my tires skidding along the 500
foot straight cliff drop (slight exaggeration on the cliff part) and I
would still manage to press and pass him just before the bottom even
with almost no back brake.
I stopped and looked around at the gate at the base, and to my surprise,
there was no podium, and there were no Trophy girls, the only white
bubbly I would drink would be my slightly foaming mineral water *sigh*
only the ride home awaited.