Until I went up Old Humboldt Road. I was wrong. I had never felt my legs tremble, I had never felt my heart beat so fast as I did that first time. I was out of commission for 2 days, after that. But, I loved it. I went and "test drove" another bike. More of a racing bike this time, rode around Chico a little, and couldn't un-click my shoe fast enough, and bam...I hit the pavement....my ankle had been cut open so deep, it was bleeding heavy, but I didn't have time to get to the Immediate Care, so they super glued it shut. By the end of my 9 hour shift at work, my ankle was twice it's size. But I didn't care. I got it stitched up, and the next day, I bought my first racing bike. A Schwin, with Schimano pedals, and wheels.
I loved it, I could pick it up with one finger, it was so light. I outfitted it with an odometer, got specialized pedals to fit my shoes. I was set. And 2 weeks later I rode my first century up Mount Shasta. I finished the century with my friend Amy in 7 hours. We went down that mountain, and at points we reached 55 MPH. We were spent by the end of that, but the rewards in ourselves, were huge. We drove home that night, I think in awe of ourselves.
My friend Amy and I were in love with this sport, but I was more serious, she had school, and her teaching credentials. I couldn't wait for my first race. So, a month later, I loaded up my bike....and being the only female in my age group, raced my first race in San Ardo. I will never forget this day, it changed my life as far as riding went. I rode so hard, but it was so windy, and I was the only one for my team. I did place, but nothing worthy of moving up. But it was my first race, all alone, I was so proud of myself. I was addicted to riding, and racing, my life was all it consisted of. It kept my mind from thinking about everything that was going wrong in my life. It was my happy place.
That's me after enduring one of the longest climbs ever.
I started to ride the fast 50 every Wednesday night after work, it was just another way to improve your riding, and racing, and I started to get faster than the other ladies on my team. And in September, I did my second century on The Unknown Coast. This is a two day ride through valleys, and woods, on the coast of the ocean. Up the highest hill I have ever ridden up. It's a camping trip. What an experience. I bathed in the river...NAKED!!!! We roasted marshmallows, ate at the local Grange Hall, saw cows and sheep right on the coast line. I was in love with my life in that moment.
Right on the coast
Right before the decent back into Ferndale.
Right after I got home from this trip, my divorce was final. And within 2 weeks of this ride, I crashed so hard, going at about 25 MPH. I was alone, and it scared me to death. I had to get my wounds scrubbed out two times a day, and wrapped. I was sure I would have a heinous scar. But, really it's healed well, and has left a memory for me.
I decided to write this today, because the last 2 days I have been out on my bike, in my happy place. Taking in the scenery around me. I forgot how peaceful, and simple it can be to be on my bike. I miss those times, and the friends I made. I miss the trips I got to take, and the spontaneous rides I'd go on to escape what was happening right before my eyes. I miss my jersey that I'd wear even if I was at another race, supporting my team. I miss it all.
But, to be on my bike yesterday, and today, brought me back to those times. I'm back in the saddle, I'm back to my happy place.
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