the tao of cycling: the grotto

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

the grotto

I live two different lives.
at least.
but for brevity's sake, in this soliloquy I'll just stick to two: biking life, and non-biking life. they exist on two different planes, with a gradual transition back and forth. I waken each morning in regular-life, get ready for my ride, and head out the door to transition phase. this can take anywhere from five to twenty minutes, depending on the grade of the streets on my route. (I'm laughing as I type this.) steep uphill grade, I need the maximum time; slight grades cut my time down to about ten or twelve minutes; and flat or downhill streets get me to my other life within three or four minutes.
this morning I rode to a foreign land: city creek canyon. mid-range transition time, maximum biking-life experience. it stormed last night, and the road up the canyon was still dark with moisture. it was olfactory heaven, with every plant and bush and tree sending out its fragrant message. the road is narrow and winding around curve after curve, lifting steeply upward and wrapping around a bend to a gently climbing section, then surprising you with a brief flat before again climbing up, and up.
weeping rock memorial grotto is at the top: I love that name. just to visualize a weeping rock thrills my heart and soul. and grotto, what a beautiful word, stolen from the italian and given to me as a gift when I reach the end of the canyon climb.
back home, I am now clean and coffeed, and having difficulty releasing biking-life because I am still writing about it. my other life calls, wonderful but oh so different, and I will return to biking-life in my mind as needed today. my physician-self has written me a mental health PRN prescription: return mentally to weeping rock, as needed.
biking life, non-biking life.
and a little mental overlap.

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the Male Ego

The other day I was coming down a canyon in my drop bars (two years ago I would have said, 'what's a drop bar?'), working hard, when I came up on two guys who were also heading downhill but at a more leisurely pace. I passed them, said hello as I did so, and pulled back into the bike lane. a few minutes later they went flying past me, faces looking dead ahead, not a single bit of acknowledgment that I even existed on this planet let alone was involved in and enjoying the same sport they were.
I have to attribute this to the male ego. what else can it be? now I know we all have egos, myself included. and mine even shows its ridiculous little head once in a while, or perhaps more often. but the difference between mine and say, those of certain men on bicycles, is that I KNOW mine exists and I can LAUGH at mine. I know my ego was quite excited to pass those guys, and I could also smile because I knew if the men had really been working like I was, they would have kicked my butt down the hill.
I think I pissed them off.
and I'm sure I will be sharing with you much more of my thoughts about the male ego . . .

a little history

I was married, and I had a mountain bike which I rarely rode. we separated, I moved out, and four months later someone stole my bike. the next spring, 2005, I bought myself a new mountain bike. I rode occasionally, and in april 2006 I rode in my first century, the Cactus Hugger in St. George, Utah. I made it 54 miles on that mountain bike, and it took me about 6 hours. I think that included the rest stops where I prayed that someone would steal my bike again . . .
in june 2006 I started riding my mountain bike five mornings a week, a 45-55 minute loop that was intended to be all about exercise. and what I found was that I loved the quiet, peaceful morning full of bird chatter and barely breaking sunrises. by that fall I was hooked, and began considering the purchase of a road bike. I rode up emigration canyon for the first time that Labor Day of 2006, panting and plowing along on my trusty (heavy) bike, and a month later I was the proud owner of my own road bike: I had become a two-bike girl!
a 17-week-long "power camp" over the winter and a handful of new friends kept bicycling front and center in my life, and when spring of 2007 rolled around I was ready to hit the pavement. I rode my first century the end of april, when I again went to St. George and completed that Cactus Hugger. it took me about 7 hours, but this time I rode the entire 100 miles with about 9300 feet of vertical gain. woo hoo!
I started riding canyons around our area, emigration and millcreek, city creek, big cottonwood, little mountain and big mountain, and once--yes, only once--little cottonwood.
then in september of 2007, I rode from Logan, Utah, to Jackson, Wyoming, in the slightly infamous LOTOJA race. I rode, I did not race. and I completed the thing, crediting my good training buddies, the incredibly perfect weather, my support team, and an amazing convergence of all things positive in the universe.
I put in about 3500 miles last season, and as of today, july 19, 2008, I have about 1700 in, adding to it every day.
I have again signed on to ride the LOTOJA race, and my goal is to have just somewhere near as great a ride as I did last year. oh, and to have someone fun to talk with along the way as I got incredibly bored last year . . . star valley is still a nightmare scene in my biking memories . . .
and here is a picture of the machine that has helped me reclaim my life.