Montebellows

Shady, but steep? Or a more mellow grade, in full sun? Life is full of little trade-offs. My backyard thermometer registered 101.8 degrees F this afternoon, in the shade. The weather may heat up even more tomorrow, so I was determined to bike today.

For some reason, riding Mt. Eden Road tends to be eventful. Today, as we were descending a curvy section with motorcycles roaring by, an SUV swung wide into our lane around a bend to pass some ascending cyclists, and suddenly a young buck tried to cross the road. I'm not sure the scene could have been more chaotic, but perhaps I lack imagination. The buck backed up, the traffic passed, no cyclists were harmed, and the buck crossed behind me.

It was not the day to try for a personal best on Montebello Road, although if you are faster you will spend less time suffering in the blazing heat. Montebello tilts up abruptly at the bottom, and after covering 3/4 of a mile, I was wishing for a lower gear. I looked down, and . . . holy cow, I was in my middle chainring! My wish was granted! I do have a lower gear, and I wasn't already in it. I am now strong enough to climb that far up Montebello without my granny gear?

On the way up, I admired the (somewhat hazy) views of the valley, noticed a memorial plaque to a cyclist for the first time, enjoyed the still-blooming wildflowers, and was amused by a marriage proposal painted on the ascent. Did Tamara accept?

We shared the summit with some lizards as we waited for the rest of our group to reach the top. Most of our fellow riders scattered before our leader joined us, and the rest of us split off at the bottom to retrace our path to the start (more climbing, more climbing). A short ride today, 33 miles with 3,620 feet of climbing.

Some triathletes visiting from Texas joined one of my rides a couple of years ago, on a blisteringly hot day (108 degrees). Early on that ride we compared notes about biking in the heat, and they told us:

This is not like Texas. In Texas, it feels like your flesh is burning.

Before the end of that ride, we took refuge in a local convenience store where we refueled with cold Gatorade, packed ourselves with ice, and heard our visitors admit that we were now having a taste of the full Texas experience.

Riding home from Saratoga today, with the heat blasting me from the road surface and the sun beating down, my flesh was searing. This time, I rode straight to the cure.