Sierra Road

It has been a year since I've climbed Sierra Road, and with today's club ride heading up the back of it, why not descend and then climb it? Approaching the summit from the back side, you can see the road snaking along the top of the hill and you can't see the sprawling metropolis below the fog.

Sierra is hard. On the descent, I pondered making a sensible return to our starting point. But where's the fun in that? Thus, having warmed up with 2400 feet of climbing already in my legs, I made the big u-turn and headed back up.

The last time I hauled myself up Sierra, I was earning my place as a spectator during the Tour of California. When I finally reached the summit, one of the local racers teased me:

What took you so long?
I had a mechanical problem, I replied.
Getting the expected look of sympathy, I continued: I need a bigger engine.

A few eyebrows went up when I proceeded to pull a long lens, mounted on a digital SLR, out of my little backpack. Maybe she's not as slow as we thought.

It was so warm today that I was overheating. I pushed up my sleeves. I thought about stopping. I kept going. I thought about turning around. I didn't.

Shortly after I arrived at the top, a serious racer arrived, breathing mightily. Before his support vehicle picked him up and ferried him back down the hill, I caught a snippet of their conversation.

How was it?
That was hard. And not in a fun way.

In addition to the usual turkey vultures and hawks, I crossed paths with a magpie and a western bluebird in brilliant plumage, and saw the largest flock yet of wild turkeys. The cows at the top were indifferent to our suffering.

I celebrated with some pretzels and triumphantly descended the back side.