the tao of cycling: along the way

Saturday, October 23, 2010

along the way

dave shields in his book The Race tells of his fourteen-year-old character's ride up the south side of boulder mountain, starting from his home in hanksville, utah. the opening scene of the book has his character crashing near the top, splitting his knee open, blood everywhere and bone exposed.

when I first tried to read this book I stopped right then. put the book down. and didn't pick it up again for about a year.

it was too visceral, and there wasn't enough else pulling me through that part to keep going.

I eventually went back to the book, though, and skimmed the gross parts about muscle and bone and enjoyed the story.

two years ago I was visiting torrey, utah, and attempted to ride up boulder mountain from the north side. neglecting to do my research ahead of time, I ended up out of water and food an unknown distance from the top, and didn't dare keep going, and turned back around.

this morning I was again in torrey, this time armed with research, plenty water, and a pocketful of bananas and Gu's.

and a determination to get to the summit of boulder mountain.

no crashes, no blood, and no turning around.

boulder mountain is in part of the Dixie National Forest, in an area I like to call mid-south-central utah. and it's really just one more hill to climb in susan's book of life. I made it, I scaled the summit today, and what I learned is that the section I rode two years ago was the best part of the climb. it's the prettiest section, the most colorful, and it culminates in a "scenic overlook" spot that is one of the most stunning around.

from this spot you look out over mesas and buttes and snow-capped mountains--the henry's--far, far in the distance. red rock and purple, bone and gray and seven shades of rosy pink blend in this stunning expanse of varied topography. on a clear day, it's said you can see a hundred and fifty miles, which is enough to almost boggle the mind. trees, reservoirs, valleys, gulches, passes, almost every kind of geological structure you can imagine ~ these all stretch out away, fading gently into the horizon, gradually slipping into a hundred shades of blue and gray.

so today's lesson is this: it is good to have a goal, and it's good to achieve your goal, but it's also true that sometimes the most wonderful things in life are found along the way to achieving your goal.

No comments:

Post a Comment

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.