Back on Black

Setting out this morning, I was reminded that today was the big day for the riders in Markleeville. In solidarity, I was determined not to falter on my little steep climb and reminisced about 2009. While it did not rival the Sierras, my view was a satisfying reward for climbing one tough hill.

I started with a group of stronger riders; knowing that I could not match their pace, my intentionally abbreviated route diverged within the first few miles. Moments after I crested the summit, a large truck turned down the narrow, curvy road. Timing is everything.

I lingered in sunny solitude before cruising along the ridge to complete my short loop. A small herd of alpacas masquerading as poodles brought a smile to my face. With our recent heat wave, I can imagine that they were grateful to have lost their shaggy coats.

As I returned to the start, I overheard two cyclists on the opposite side of the road:

Hey, didn't we see that woman earlier?

Evidently they were looping in the clockwise direction.

This short excursion (a mere 2,325 feet of climbing over 18 miles) afforded time for afternoon errands, including lunch at a local treasure: The Falafel Drive-in. The line stretched to the street when I arrived. The line stretched to the street when I left. They are the best.