The first time I did that six-hundred vertical, my legs, like my lungs, burned. By the time I wheeled into home, I was torn and tired and murdered. It was as though I'd run up my personal Kilimanjaro twice.
It was queer. After all, I'd been up here more than a few years. I go on walkabouts at any opportunity. Then the reasoning kicked in; like snowshoeing, riding a bicycle calls upon the use of other muscles, and, in the case of the first time, muscles in places you didn't even know you own.
A few weeks later, that route was old hat, just something I was doing that summer...
It was the first time this season and I anticipated the burn and exhaustion. I was pleasantly surprised how easy it was. Maybe easy isn't the right adjective, but to compare it to what I'd experienced the year before would've been an outright lie.
The zen of zipping down-valley at the speed of inertia and push back up. Having wheels at people speed. Like trills of hummingbirds through the valley and the slow-greening of the High Country, I move in time to a waltz of warmer weather.
Spring is here and summer isn't that far off..
Ah, back to two-wheeled locomotion for another year, and very nice it wasn't killer... ;D
ReplyDeleteIt was indeed lovery. I had a silly little Queen song playing within the walls of my skull along the way.
DeleteI just noticed that "Shades of Grey" dilly-bopper on your side bar...
ReplyDeleteAnyway, I'd been thinking about getting a bike for spring, but spring was a no-show this year. I think summer and winter got together and killed that delightful bitch...oh well...
Then bike for summer...obvious? Just have water. The water in Tejas ain't poisoned, now is it? ;P
DeleteSorry for ya'll's non-spring. The loss of a season is a sad thing.
"...I move in time to a waltz of warmer weather."
ReplyDeleteI've carried this line in my mind all day. :)
You flatter me. Thank you.
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