Red Barn Ride: June 2020

"True friendship comes when the 

silence between two people

is comfortable."

David Tyson

As I head out on my bike this late morning, I think quite a bit about the ride I put on yesterday.  I was surprised that eight people showed though I know it is a lovely course with little traffic.  It is a long drive to the ride start for my friends from Louisville, but then there was nothing else on the schedule.  And some are close friends, friends whose company I enjoy and who must enjoy mine.  As the bike club re-opens from COVID, I suspect some captains and some riders will not return and others will wait to see how the rides go.  But most of us that ride will continue to ride because riding is about more than the bike. Riding is about the jokes, the surprises, the friendship, the beauty, the trials and tribulations, the triumphs, the sweat and the chills, and so much more. 

Today I have decided to ride to Borden and get a couple of tough climbs in, something I have been avoiding lately.  It does me no good to avoid the climbs because that is the only way to truly build strength.  It would be better to have others to climb with to push my speed a bit as I tend to be lazy, but it is what it is.   I think I am fortunate that the weather today is moderate.  Climbing is so much easier when it is not in the nineties where the heat brings the sweat that drips in the eyes causing them to burn as if they were on fire despite one's headband.  Over the years I have learned to carry an extra bandana for such moments and keep it handy, tucked in my shorts.  People have laughed at the "tumor" on my thigh, but it serves its purpose.  Today, however, I should not need it.  Thinking of this makes me giggle about a sweat band  that I bought at Texas Hell Week, a rubber "gutter" that went around my head.  The guys laughed.  They were right.  Not only did it not stop the sweat from getting in my eyes, it gave me a headache. 

Interestingly, perhaps even Freudian  or because I am lost in my own head, I miss the turn to Bartle's Knob, but this does not save me, it only adds miles as it is a dead end road.  I have never ridden down this way and it is a nice road, secluded with attractive homes.  One lady is out spraying the weeds in the ditch by the road.  I always hate riding by anyone spraying weed killer or pesticides because I suspect it is decidedly unhealthy.  I never know whether to try to hold my breath or breathe shallowly and rapidly to try to keep it from reaching deep in my lungs.  This time I hold my breath.  On the way back, I breath shallowly.  I am halfway up the road before recognizing my mistake and understanding that somehow I am not on the right road, but I ride to where it dead ends with no trespassing signs before turning around. 

Before you know it, I am passing Wiley's Chapel on the way up the first climb:  Bartle's Knob.  The climb is long and for one short moment, my Wahoo tells me the grade is 18 per cent, but since I am not hurrying not really painful.  I should be pushing myself to go faster, but instead just go at my own, slow, steady pace.  I think of how I used this hill and the next to help train for the hills in the Virginia 1000 K a few years ago.  It seems so long ago, and yet not.  Sometimes things are like that. 

I crest the hill and debate how to get to Borden. I know that Daisy Hill Road will take me to Borden, but I am pretty sure that Jackson Road also leads there and is the other hill I am looking for.  I am right.  I "thought" I was right, but I could as easily have been wrong.  When I turn onto Jackson, I tell myself if I am not descending within six miles, I will turn around.  But descending I am, and at quite a clip at one point.  I think yet again to myself that I need to get new brake pads in front. The back are fine, but the front definitely need replacement.  I think about what type of brakes I will get if I get a new bike.  So many of the new bikes have disc brakes.  The guys said it is overkill on a regular road bike, but the people that have them seem to like them.  Oh, well, it will be awhile before a new bike comes my way.  I remain glad I bought titanium.  It  lasts. In fact, the only thing new on it since I bought it in 2011 is chain, cassette, cables, bar tape, and saddle.  Oh, and one shifter, one that Steve Rice helped locate for me on line. Everything else is what came with the bike.  I did buy new wheels this year, but I have not yet put them on. 

That leads me to think of how I feel  like  I upset the bike shop by wanting high spoke count wheels.  I don't think he understands how I ride, that I may be one hundred miles out from my daughter or may run into gravel that I don't want to take the time to go around despite it being a road bike.  That bike has been on some pretty rough roads in its time.  "Why," I ask myself, "do I sometimes feel guilty getting what I want for myself when someone else thinks I should want something different but don't."  I have no answer for this.  Of course, as long as he makes money, it should not matter to the bike shop, but it either does or it is my imagination that it does.

Soon, I am sitting eating a small twist cone that seems pretty large but tastes pretty darned good.  I don't know how it will sit with the big climb up Jackson, but for now it is fine.  The biggest problem on the return is getting across the road.  Cars zoom and those that turn seem not to use turn signals, but finally I am across and ready to climb.  As I pass the elementary school, I giggle to myself remembering the look on the faces of the kids at recess when they realized that I was about to climb that huge hill on my bike a few years ago. 

Halfway up the steepest part of the climb, a bug flies into my open, gasping mouth and rather than being swallowed, it lodges in my throat.  I try to ride through it, but end up stopping and taking a few swigs all the while wondering if I will be able to turn the pedals and start back up or will have to walk. The road is wide enough to allow me to go sideways, much stronger because of the additional protein I just unwittingly downed, and finish the climb.  The grass alongside the road is still green despite the fact that we are starting to need rain.  Daisies, black eyed Susan, and lilies line the road in places. Later on, I see bales of hay lay waiting to be dragged to barns. Last year there was such a shortage of hay due to the drought. 

On the ride home I think about the company yesterday and find myself with a wide grin on my face.  I have blessed with many friends in my lifetime.  How much poorer would my life be without them?  How much richer are experiences when shared?  Sometimes we talk, usually we talk or at least I talk, but sometimes it is enough to ride in companionable silence.  It is nice to have friends like that.  It is nice to have friends that will drive quite a distance just to be with you and to share a course that you put together. I am truly blessed.  They listen at times when I feel they must think, "Will she never shut up?"  They bear with me at times when I have nothing to say but feel the warmth of their company.  Thanks to those that came.  It was a good ride.  And today is a good ride today.  Life is good despite COVID, at least at this point.