A reasonable person in sub-prime condition would not spend a cold January morning biking up the steep side of Hicks Road. But today was the club's annual luncheon to thank those of us who led rides last year, and it was inconceivable to eat pizza without burning some calories in advance.
Sleeping in seemed like the better option. Cleverly, I had talked a friend into riding with me—I had to get out of the bed.
I was altogether unconvinced that I could power myself up Hicks. Should I declare victory when I reached the dam? Having made it that far, surely I could at least ride to the bridge.
Having lured myself to the bridge, I carried some speed to begin my assault on the steepness that is Hicks. With two short stops to lower my heart rate, I made it. Another rider looked at my rear cluster and observed "That's not really a climbing gear. I add a tooth every year," he joked.
Twenty-five miles, 2300 feet of climbing, and some mighty tasty pizza.
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