The air is cool and fresh and thin. Thin is an important word here. A beautiful sunrise wakes up to greet us. Notice, we are awake before the sun is. Camelbacks full of water are strapped to our backs, heads capped with helmets, and all the other necessary equipment is attached to our bodies. The bikes are loaded. The proper attire is mandatory e.g. shorts with built in derrieres, (as if I need any extra back there, but by the end of the day, all that padding was welcomed, even though it felt like I had on about 10 diapers), undies that wick the moisture away from the body, and shoes that click into pedals.
New to this experience, I don't really know what to expect. Around this first bend and up the incline, my thighs immediately start burning and asking me what the heck are you doing to us? We haven't moved this much in years. My lungs are wondering why isn't there any oxygen entering them. I think I'm breathing. At least I'm trying to breathe but no matter how hard I try, no air seems to be anywhere around that I can suck in. Did anyone bring an oxygen tank ? Remember that word 'thin?' Well, it's still thin but no longer cool and fresh. Just thin. I don't remember swallowing a flaming marshmallow. About when I start trying to unhook my feet that are in those shoes that are clamped onto my pedals, we start downhill. Well, this is nice. A chance to breathe. Around another curve and down the hill my thoughts are, "holy crap, where the heck is the ground?" Does this bike come equipped with wings because I seem to be airborne? Once I found myself at a stopping point and in one piece, I tried to loosen my grip. White knuckled doesn't seem to describe my fingers. It took about five minutes for me to pry them loose and another five minutes to straighten them.
Is there someone here to pick us up? Evidently not, and the group doesn't seem to be waiting on me either. At some point along the way, it was necessary to "hike and bike." Don't know how much my bike weighed, but I did consider abandoning it and turn this stretch of the trail into "hike" only.
After about two hours, my brain starts communicating with my body, telling it that we've made it to the half-way point. Just when I convince myself it can't get any worse, it does. Where are the guard rails that might prevent me from tumbling into the Colorado River?
From somewhere a voice asks, "Are you enjoying the view?"
"Are you kidding me? All I can see is my front tire." I didn't bring a life jacket in case that front tire gets too close on the left, and I don't have any rappelling gear to climb this mountain on my right. There's no way to turn back because there's not enough room to turn around. Single track is now very clear in my mind.
Finally, we find a wide spot in the road trail and have lunch. Pro Bars (whole berry blast is my favorite), water, and Shot Blocks. Yum-MEE !
I dare not ask what lies ahead. It really doesn't matter. So, no more words. Just pictures.
"Hey, Kath, wanna go again tomorrow?"
"Sure."
And I did.
Anyone interested in joining us for the next Colorado Mountain Bike Ride?
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Wolfbaby asked about the winners in My Happy Birthday Contest. The votes are still being tallied because I decided to award ALL the creative bloggers prizes. They will be posted soon.
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Do you suffer from paraskevidekatriaphobia ?
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If you have a few minutes, be sure to watch the video in the post below.
