High Rent Hills

Sometimes a short ride is just enough. Sometimes I actually spend a Saturday afternoon not biking. [Imagine that.]

Our little social group set out to climb into the hills above town. Before tackling the main attraction, our peerless leader took us on a couple of warm-up loops (which involved climbing, of course).

Some years ago, I visited the Testarossa Winery to hear the ever-entertaining Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen at a fund-raising event for junior cyclists. Then, unlike today, we did not cycle up to the (former) Novitiate.

Foster Road was our third climb of the day, and the most challenging. I remembered some impressive views, but had forgotten the steep price to be paid. By the homeowners, for that exclusive neighborhood. By my legs, for a short visit. I gained ground on two folks in our group, but with insufficient clearance to pass them I was forced to stop, to open enough of a gap to prevent our wheels from touching as we wobbled up the steep grade.

We tackled two more hills for good measure; after Foster, I found it surprisingly easy to reach their summits. The hard work behind us, we retired to a café where one rider regaled us with her tales of meeting the indomitable Jens Voigt.

For the day, 15 miles, 1,785 feet of climbing. Shut up, legs.