Bikes in the City

April 8th, 2005

I really enjoy the bike pathways around the city (they’re paved!) and am trying to get more conditioned to be able to push up bigger hills. Like the Mount Kilimanjaro that serves as Edworthy park’s exit. That one is a killer. I’ve tried it once and spent most of the time walking my bike up, watching all the other more experienced bikers ride up beside me.

So this time Jim tells me that there’s another way out of that park. A secret way that should shave off a considerable amount of time from our ride. So at around nine miles into the ride, it’s time to start up this secret uphill route through the dog park. Instead of riding up the street that exits the parking lot to the left (when you face up the hill,) you turn right and head down a gravel road/pathway, toward what I think are washrooms. At the end of that, you veer to the left on a little trail, and pedal up, up up, until you reach the stairs. On either side of the stairs are tire tracks. I left out the part where I got off the bike and started walking. It’s steep. Maybe this shaved time off our total trip, but it was steep. Between the roadway and the dogpark way, I will be able to ride the roadway up WAY before I will be able to ride the dogpark way up.

So I’m walking up the stairs, looking down at the tire tracks, and wondering to myself if people actually navigate their bikes UP this hill, in the narrow, narrow ledge to the side of the stairway. Or if the tracks were created by other people like me who breathlessly pushed their bikes alongside the stairway, because obviously, it’s easier to push your bike up a smooth path than to try and guide it up a clunky stairway. Then I realized that those tracks were likely put there by crazy downhill riders. Freaks, I think to myself. Huff, puff.

Finally we get to the top of the stairs and steep dirt, arriving at a spot where you can see grass. It wasn’t the top, top, but it was close. Always considerate, Jim asked me if I was ready for a break. No, I insisted, we MUST GET TO THE VERY TOP. No stopping until all we can see is downhill. I got back on my bike and pedalled my way to the summit.

See, I have these rules. You can’t stop. If you’re running and you need a break, you walk. If you’re biking, you either pedal slower, of get off and walk. Stopping is only allowed at preplanned stopping places. Or if you have to pee. Or if you pass an ice cream truck. Okay, maybe my rules aren’t as rigid as they should be, but one of the rules is that if you’re going to stop, it had better not be approaching a summit. You get to the top, THEN you can stop. There’s a reward at the top. Stopping partway up the hill is silly. You KNOW there’s more. You can’t take a true break. You can’t stop and be proud of yourself, drink some water, and pat yourself on the back, because you know that when the break is over, you still have to go uphill.

“No, no break yet. We have to get to the top.” Push, push, push. Jim must think I’m crazy sometimes. As slow as I’m going and as close to the top as we were, yet there was no stopping now. Finally I reach the top. A top I had never seen before, on a route that I’d never travelled before. There actually was a reward: crocus.

The winter here is long. Granted, this year it was mild, and the snow on the ground melted quick enough. But still. It’s longer than it ever is in Seattle. And there are no cherry blossoms. It heats up in April and you don’t really know what to think. Is it spring? Or is the next snowfall coming tomorrow? When do I put away the winter clothes?

Surely the crocus are a sign.