Two Wheel Tuesday: A for Effort

I was on my way up the hill to the reservoir, not having seen a single other rider the entire evening, that is other than the one I was chasing. Odd, because most Tuesday's there have been many by that point in the loop. Rounding a bend in the road there were suddenly three up the road, plus the one I was chasing - two were walking. I might have said "ha" if it were seventy-five degrees, but it was more like ninety-five, a fact which, I am quite sure, accounted for the lack of other riders. In mountain biking, and cycling in general, making the attempt can often be as impressive as cleaning the rock garden. Succeeding when others don't even make the attempt. "A" for effort.

Eventually I made it to the top of that hill, sweaty, exhausted, and with that odd ticking in the lungs you get when the air is bad - you remember that feeling you used to get in the 1970s. Yeah, it's coming back thanks to he who shall not be named. Anyway, as I sat there on the top tube trying to collect myself this other rider pulls up next to me, oddly flat and one dimensional, elongated, no sweat, no hard ragged breaths. "Bastard," I thought. Once upon a time he was me.

Unfortunately there were no purveyors of fine tacos waiting at the brew house, but on nights like these the post ride refreshment is especially refreshing. For that I am thankful.