get on the bike

I woke yesterday to find the weather at odds with me. It was freezing cold, raining heavily and there was a biting wind. Even to the advanced rider, these conditions are dangerous to ride in. So to a novice ride such as myself, to attempt to ride is suicide. Even if you do survive the slick roads which prevent healthy turning and stopping, near zero temperatures and the wind punching you in the face, it's still a miserable ride. There is barely enough riding joy left inside you to make the ride worthwhile. The whole idea is to relax... This would be nothing but pure stress.

I had to decide quickly - Take a chance and ride across the state or just take the car.

I was near tears as I stood in the freezing rain and fought with the two sides of my brain. Do I risk it and ride over 300 miles in conditions I have never ridden in on a ride that is farther than I have ever attempted? Or do I play it safe and just lollygag over in the car, just like every other trip I've made.

I was on the bike in less than two minutes.

It was horrible. My legs were soaked. My feet were soaked. My hands were soaked and my visor was so fogged up I could barely make out the road in front of me. The wind chill was so strong that it my cold just got worse and I feared that I might get pneumonia. My nose was running and I was stuffed up which forced me to breath out of my mouth, which made the visor fog even worse. I was so cold that I couldn't even feel the chill in my body, I just knew that I was suffering..

But I was on the bike.

From the relative warmth of Tacoma I headed up the side of Mt. Rainer into heavier rain, slicker roads, and colder temperatures. I was trolling along at 20 miles an hour which only seemed to make the misery last longer. I stopped the bike every twenty minutes or so and tried to find a place to warm up a bit before I headed back out.

The first piece of gear to go was my gloves. The thin gardening gloves finally gave out and could not longer keep up, so I had to replace them. I went into a gas station and they just happened to have a pair of skiing gloves in a sale bin. They fit perfectly and they did the job. [note to self - always be prepared]

I stayed on the bike. Up to the fifty mile mark, I felt that I could turn around and get the car. When I passed the fifty mile mark, I was so enamored with the struggle, I just kept going.

The rain started to let up and the roads dried up a bit. My visor cleared up and that allowed the beauty of the ride to flow into my eyes. The forest was freshly watered and it's green was crisp and striking. The deep aroma of the mountain, the trees and the flowers was glorious. Even the wet asphalt smelled special. I'm not sure, but I think I could have been driving down the street where they make all the mountained themed scents you find in air fresheners and shampoo. Mountain valley this and Pine scent that.

At the summit, the rain stopped, but my body was soaked and I knew that the air temperature was too low for me and I needed to get out of these clothes pretty darn quick. The dry roads only make you want to drive faster which increases the wind against your wet body and that is bad, no matter who you are. In some small town near the summit I stopped in to another gas station and there, in a sale bin was a cheap pair of waterproof snow pants. The Gods really wanted to see me finish this ride.

After a brief meal and a quick change of clothes, I started down the mountain and I came down into the desert valleys of south central Washington state. The rest of my bike and my gear dried up pretty quickly and for the next 100 miles, I just enjoyed the sunshine and the view. Then I got into Pasco...

40 plus miles an hour winds.

That's enough power to blow a man over and it's definitely enough power to blow over a bike that's top heavy with a novice rider that has never ridden in the wind before. For the last 70 miles of the trip, the wind did everything it could to blow me into on coming traffic. If that wasn't working it would try to blow me into the guard rails. By the time I finally rolled into my destination, I was wiped out. My body had taken all it could. My cold had moved from my head into my chest, but I was happier than a child on Christmas morning. I made it.

The day had started so poorly and ended just as poorly...

But I got on the bike.

I wanted this ride. I knew the danger and all the reasons not to do it. There was a safer choice, but safer isn't always the right choice. Should I live to be 70 years old, my heart will never tense up thinking about how I didn't try to take this ride. It's a small gift I have given myself and I feel great.

I was rewarded for my efforts by not giving into my fears and getting on the bike. I could have stopped and looked at the same views that I took in from my bike if I had driven my car, but I know I wouldn't have. I would have just whizzed up in a hurry to get there. I would have just listened to music and just passed the time like I always do. My choice allowed me to be in the view as it was happening and pulling over to stretch my legs allowed me to take in the view as if I had walked to this point on a hike. (AND I spent 14 dollars in gas opposed to the 45 it would have cost in my car)

I got on the bike. That's all you have to do.