Durango. Weather, 70s every day. Scenery in all directions. Steam train
passing morning and evening. Job, perfect. I love these engagements that
go so well because their accountant did such a good job. Fieldwork
Wednesday Thursday and Friday. Exit conference in the afternoon. Time for
that bicycle ride in the evening that Sue (yes, I'm naming names) has been
promising (threatening) us with for a year. A mountain bike trail ride we
would never forget (forgive).
We each left work, went to our respective houses, gathered our respective
gear and spouses, and met up at the trailhead at the edge of town. We
unloaded our bikes, started up the hill, and immediately found ourselves
surrounded by mostly twenty and thirty something riders attached to their
high-tech, lightweight alloy, twenty-nine speed, full-suspension, disk
braked machines by their clip on pedals, our hosts included. This ride
consisted of a hill climb. Steep rocky dirt road (trail) with ruts and
bumps and rocky sections. So off we go, grinding our way uphill, ducking to
the side for more experienced riders swooping past at ten times our pace
(uphill) and a hundred times our pace (downhill), our hosts included. They
promised a meadow ride at the top, but what we found at the top was more
uphill. How can a meadow be uphill all the way? I swear, the entire ride
was uphill, except for that five minute downhill at the end.
Judy, the trooper, rode until she couldn't, walked her bike through the
rough stuff, then rode again when she could. I, being more testosterone
enabled (encumbered), managed to ride the entire way, chuffing my way up the
hill like the Durango Silverton steam train, finding our cheerful hosts
waiting for us at every trail junction. There is something innately evil
about a person who rides way ahead, waits for you, and just as you arrive
and are about to collapse, heads off for the next section don't you think?
The person who didn't need the rest just did, then takes off just before the
person who is barely still alive can. Judy survived the ride. I survived
the ride with only minor scrapes and scratches. Somewhere around the top,
on the only flat spot I recall, I moved to the side of the trail to let a
faster rider by who was approaching at something like fifty times my speed.
I lost it in the soft stuff and fell over. The faster rider didn't even
slow down going by. She just yelled out a question about me being okay as
she flew past.
Sue promised (threatened) a ride we would never forget (forgive). She
delivered.
