Viewing the Countryside

From the top of Bernal Road, we could almost spy our challenging destination for the day: the summit of Country View Drive lies just beyond the tree-studded hillside left of center. Our group of eleven included three of the four friends who joined me on a scouting party up Country View last August. (The Canadian judge sent her regrets. Gleefully, I might add.)

Following that successful expedition, I nominated this route to become one of our bike club's recognized hill climbs - and was honored to have it accepted. Well, perhaps more pained than honored. It is one tough climb, and if I nominated it, I should certainly be prepared to lead fellow club members to the top. This early in the season, I thought I might be hiking more of it than biking. Throughout the week, I desperately hoped that rain would arrive to cancel the ride. This morning the streets were wet, but the sky was clear.

What sort of challenge does Country View present? Two riders elected to wait for us at the base of the hill. After making the initial turn onto the road, an unprepared rider was forced to circle back in order to shift into a lower gear. On the second and most relentlessly steep section, one rider stopped for a break and toppled over (laughing). He expected to put his foot down, but on that sort of grade, “down” is a bit farther down. Two strong riders (with double cranksets) were similarly inspired to take a break. Another rider took a turn that sent him off the route onto an unplanned steep diversion.

Ultimately, nine of us reached the top. We were obliged to dismount and step over a firehose near the summit. There were a dozen or more vehicles up there, having transported firefighters for an apparent training exercise; that accounted for the smoke I had noticed earlier on the ride. One of them kindly warned us about the abundant broken glass at the summit, but it was actually cleaner than last time.

A great climb on a glorious winter day. In all, I covered 33 miles and climbed 2300 feet, with a peak speed of 39.6 mph. Hmm, guess where that was ... Of course, my bicycle was no match for the Ferrari F40 that passed us in the opposite direction as we returned to our starting point. But that fed a passion of a different sort.