Ride the Puddles

Tearing Up Big Hill

Posted by bikezilla on July 3, 2010

Yesterday, I gave the GoD a day off. Instead, I mounted Kelly on the back of my car and drove her over to the 101st st trailhead at Waterfall Glen for a pair of northbound circuits.

I softpedaled everything except the climbs and I expected to have damned near everyone on the trail passing me. But I wasn’t overtaken even once, which left me thinking that I must have been leaving off one hell of a powerful stink, so that anyone who attempted to pass me was left writhing on the trail in the throws of vomitosis (yes, I did just make up that word).

And on the hills? Holy shiite, I was a drop machine. Anyone near a hill, anyone on a hill, anyone looking at or even thinking of a hill was dropped FAST.

One guy I felt kind of bad about, but I was just riding my ride. I really wasn’t TRYING to drop anyone. I had a plan and that plan just happened to feed my ego, today.

Anyway, the guy.

Older guy, maybe mid-50s, tall and a little sloppy on a mountain bike. I came up on him just as we’re hitting the first section of Big Hill, which is a total effin biatch. It gets steep fast, right now it’s loose and a little washed out, and ends in a 90 degree turn that gets even steeper before leveling off on the other side.

Just the fact that he was attempting to ride this section made me like the guy.

As I come around him I’m saying, “Passing on your left.”, but he’s already struggling enough that his concentration is entirely on the path, so he doesn’t hear me and he’s drifting left, right into my line. So I say it again, louder and closer and he finally notices and realizes that he’s drifting. He looks over toward me as he drifts back right and I can tell that he thinks I’m doing this to show off, to embarrass him. Really, no.

But I blow by him and while he’s struggling to keep moving, I’m accelerating all the way to the turn and I’m hitting 17.6 MPH as I come into it. If that’s not my best speed ever at that point, then it’s got to be right up there.

And I rocked that entire ride up, almost a mile of uphill. I tore Big Hill up like the crackhead ho that it is and then aced the next two short sections of steep trail coming back to the 101st trailhead to complete my first circuit.

Second time around? Still better than anything I’ve been able to reach recently, coming off that first section and around the corner at 14.3 MPH and actually took the rest of the climb even more smoothly, if not quite as fast as the first time up.

This time around the “drop” was really . . . strange.

About a mile before hitting Big Hill again I started hearing two guys who must have been 100 or so yards behind me . . . heckling me (?).  Or maybe they were yelling at each other or someone or something else, but, really, it sounded like they were talking trash about dropping ME.

But I didn’t care. My ride was focused on Big Hill and the lesser climbs leading up to it and this area wasn’t a part of that. So I shrugged it off, kept soft peddling and expected that at any time they’d overtake me. But all the while I was thinking, yeah, you think you’re gonna leave me in your dust, but you’ll hit big hill just ahead of me and by the time you reach that first curve I’ll be coming around you and then we’ll see who drops who.

With about 100 yards to go I’m sure I hear them within maybe 20 yards of me. I can hear the trail crunching beneath their tires, though they aren’t talking anymore. Again, I’m riding my ride and I’m ok with them passing me here.

But they don’t. So I hit that first section of hell and . . . that’s it, not another sound or word from them. When I reach the RC airfield I look back and I can see at least a 100 yards down the hill, but nothing.

I think maybe they used up too much energy with all that screaming and became just two more riders who gave up and walked their bikes the final 25 yards or so up that first section of Big Hill.

It was a sweet 20 miles.


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