Fellow listmembers,
I remember falling asleep Saturday night, anxious to set off early in the morning for our epic ride up Mt. Baldy, a climb of 5000 ft. over a 22 mile ride to the village at the top. I've never been there, and the others in our party who have insisted it was a ride well worth doing. As some may know, normally I will break out in a rash and the colsd sweats at even so much as the mention of a hill climb. But if figured that eventually I would have to get over this phobia I've had since I became mainly a track racer back in the late 80's. What better way to to get back into it than to make the ascent with a small group of friends?
Knowing I was as ready as I was going to get with my Colnago set up with a triple crankset, I drifted off to sleep. The next thing I know we were heading for the climb and were at the base of her and I could already feel the strain of the upward pitch. 20 miles of this, I thought? Crap. The whole group settled in, following Charles and Carmen as the rest of us, Chuck S., Jack B., Doland C. and myself rode the wheel for a while. The weather was pleasant and not too hot, yet! We pedaled for a few miles that way at a comfortable pace and I began to feel better as I got warmed up. I had been in the small (30T) ring from the base of the climb, but still had two cogs left on the FW for lower gears. Suddenly and without warning a pair of opposums darted accross the road, which I narrowily missed. It disturbed my pace and when I looked up, Charles and Carmen had used the distraction to attack the mountain and were pedaling away at unusual speed on their Jack Taylor tandem. My lungs screamed and my heart pounded as I tried to reattach myself to the speeding tandem, but alas myself and the others on their singles were being left behind. I figured Chuck would be able to match the savage attack, but none of up had the poop to chatch them. As they pounded away ahead of us, our group splintered and I was untimatey the first casualty and was left to suffer alone, possibly left to die and be eaten by the vultures circleing overhead. I could see the others, who shortly looked like ants crawling up a tree branch or something from the distance I was observing from. Crud! Still 10 miles of gear mashing left and was already seeing stars, and I swear we weren't THAT high up yet. I settled into a comfortable pace for the duration of the ride, guzzeling water (the Mr. sun appeared and turned the heat up to 11), and trying to think of all of the things I had to live for, resisting the temptation to just fall off and die on the spot. I saw God, coughed up a lung, soiled myself, and said prayers I don't even know in a plea to the master of all creation to spare my life this day and let me tell my story.
The others had regrouped up the hillside a ways but still the tandem was setting the pace. I believe I saw Carmen having tea and toast on the back as Charles had a cigar and relaxed, grinning like the Cheschire Cat as he effortlessly made the rest of us cry for mercy. Curse that blasted double machine! How on earth do they do it? What the heck do they eat for breakfast? Eventually I began to sense that the end of our torture was nearing. One final burst and the tandem was away again and racing for the finish in Mt. Baldy Village. From my distance back I could see Charles raise his hands in victory as the others followed a short distance behind. I crawled in with my ass in a basket which was handed to me by everyone else in our fun little pack. But I made it! I feel like King of the World! Look down there, over the city below, and see all of the little people and cars as we stand supreme over them here atop Mt. Olympus!
Now for the decent! Yahooooooooooo! Once we rested up a bit and stuffed in a few calories, we were off for the lower world to join the rest of the common people. A school buss fill of screaming snot-nosed kids started doen the mountain just before us. I decided to suck wheel on the bus and made a huge jump and sprint to catch the vehicle which was now gaining momentum. Next thing I know I was solo on the back of the bus going 60mph down the curvy road with kids hanging out the windows and screaming at me and throwing spitballs. I decided to get even so O drew up close to the rear wheels of the bus and jammed my pump into the spokes. Instantly the bus began skidding to a halt and then flipped over on a firey ball as it rolled to a stop at the bottom of a canyon. Snotty kids, don't mess with me on my Colnago!
The alarm went of on schedule. 4:30am, time to gather up my stuff and meet Jack Bissell in La Jolla to catch a ride up to AZUSA for the start. We all met there bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to suffer immeasureabley in order to have bragging rights for having showed up and made it to the top. About 300 yards up from the base of the mountain road we were stopped by a small group of people, including 3 cops and 2 firemen. What's going on here? Filming a movie? Of BUTTBOARDERS going doen this hill at stupid speeds and lying supine on a board with tiny wheels on it wearing motorcycle leathers? Bloody Hell! They turned us back!
We ended up just riding East a ways and then stopping for lunch in Clairemont. We had a wonderful day with wonderful company, but we will have to plan another attack on Baldy in the fall when it colles off a bit. Anyone else who wants to join us, stay tuned for the announcement when it happens.
Brian Baylis La Mesa, CA Dodged a bullit yesterday. Time to get ready for the next one.