Holly Goquickly had her rubbers majorly worked over Saturday.
Big Ring and I hit the American roads once again, this time entering from a different border crossing, with the same goal of reaching the base of Mt. Baker, but with mapped out alternate routes if need be.
I don’t know what it is about these American towns, but somehow, they’re like the ON button for the radio in my head. And on Saturday, I was singing Lambchops 😀
This is the hill that never ends.
Yes, it goes on and on my friend.
Some people started cycling it not knowing what it was,
And they’ll continue cycling it forever just because…
Reece Hill Road: “Eff me! Will you never end???”
A somewhat stressful journey on a road that motorists seemed to think was a high-speed highway had us altering our route and heading towards Silver Lake instead of Mt. Baker. While the new route cut down on mileage, it didn’t cut down on ease.
The road was bumpy as hell with heavy pavement. My butt was growing ever sorer. I was beginning to wonder if I had saddle sores developing – it was that bad!!! My pace was abysmally slow on a road that didn’t appear to be going up. (Although later I learned we were on an incline for quite some time.) And it seemed every time I’d catch up to Big Ring, I’d lose him again in a heartbeat; he’d become but a dot in my peripheral vision, and oftentimes I couldn’t see him at all.
I started to think worst case scenarios. What if one of these vehicles hit me? What if Big Ring got hit? What if his body was lying on the side of the road, and I zoomed by so fast I didn’t see him? (Hey! My Garmin said I maxed out at 100.5 km/h, so really, anything’s possible ;)) What if we were lost? What if we had to knock on someone’s door for directions? What if that someone was Annie Wilkes???
When I finally caught up with Big Ring, my frustration and fears boiled over. I snapped, and then before he could respond, I proceeded to speed off on my bike. And, oh man, my legs were giving her. I was powering up the hills, zooming down them, and pushing hard through the straight stretches too. And when I heard Big Ring easing off on his pedals in my slipstream, that pissed me off even more, and I pushed even harder.
Angry pedaling = super fast cycling chick!
Unfortunately, however, I was only able to be a speed demon for about 10 minutes, after which, one of my earlier fears had me slowing pace.
Me: Do you know where we are?
Big Ring: Welllll, I thought I did, but now, I’m not so sure.
Oh frick! We were 100 per cent lost. In the middle of small-town nowhere. The plot of Misery flashed before my eyes.
Figure 8? Or bow tie?
We flagged down a motorist, who thankfully didn’t murder us, and got proper directions that put us back on quiet country roads towards home.
SATURDAY’S RIDE:
- 9:30 a.m. BG before: 6.3
- Temp. basal: none
- Carbs: granola bar (14g) with partial bolus
- Distance: 80.08 km
- Average speed: 20.0 km/h
- Time: 3:59:17
- Fuel: @11 a.m. BG: 3.2 (1/2 PB and honey sandwich and raisins) @12 p.m. BG: 3.9 (1/2 PB and honey sandwich) @12:30 BG: 8.4 (Turkey sandwich and quinoa salad with bolus) @2 p.m. BG: 6.0 (1/2 Pocketfuel) @3 p.m. BG: 5.9 (1/2 Pocketfuel)
- 4:15 p.m. BG after: 4.8
I later learned that Big Ring has lived his life wanting to get lost on the saddle of his bike. Me, I like my detailed routes thank you very much 😀