What A View!

I set out later than I wanted on the cloudless Saturday morning. It was already a warm Southern morning with the dew burning off quickly, and the sun muscling its way through the cool morning breeze. I knew the climb would be tough enough, and now I also had a feeling that the heat would be a factor as well. 77 degrees can feel like 107 when you are fatigued and early in a season, and especially when you are not used to the temps rising. Mild temps or high temps, I wanted to be in more than just survival mode, I wanted to be a conqueror! My endeavor this Saturday morning was to test the legs to see what we had left. My analysis: the heart is still good, and according to many, the mind has always been questionable, but they both begged the legs to get us all to the top of the mountain. Six thousand, six hundred, and eight....y - four (6,684) feet to the summit at Mt. Mitchell, the highest point east of the Mississippi, with a new bike, old legs, and the same frame of mind! I tried to stay hydrated, I had two bottles of H2O, and a small 12 oz. bottle of (Blue)Berry Gatorade. For nutrition I took a couple of energy bars (a Power Bar and Zone bar) for an extra boost, and fared well. I put my empty bottles back in the cages, and my empty wrappers back in my under the saddle carrier. I was amazed at how others had not done the same thing! There were empty water bottles, and nutrition bar wrappers left after the ride (The Assault on Mt. Mitchell) this past weekend, all along the road side. I understand that this is a competition, but I also understand that cyclist leaving trash behind gives biking a blackeye! Yes it was consistent enough to confidently evidence to all others that the trash was left on the roadside by riders. If you are that close to the front, or if you are well off enough to ditch a bottle, then you should be well off enough to have a clean up crew as well. If you just don't care, then you shouldn't be too uptight with my wishing your being banned from future Parkway events.

I witnessed a few other irritating things along the way... first and foremost "horseflies!" Count all things joy the Bible says, so I can say that the horseflies were motivators, and encouraged me to pedal a bit faster, to rid myself of them. I saw several little green garden/field snakes dead on the road, and one ginormous Black snake, that appeared to be toting around five baby rabbits that she had for breakfast!  The Black snake was slithering off the road into the high grass, and looked to be approximately thirty-six or thirty eight inches long, and as big in diameter as a mountain bike tire. I am not a fan of snakes, so needless to say, this too creeped me out! If I had been mowing, this snake would have been a dead one as well.

THEN, yes a big then is very necessary for this one, THEN a playful Black Bear cub came wandering out of the woods! I nearly had a coronary, but as I stated before the heart is still good, and the will to live even better! I stopped, we looked at each other for a second, and I asked Kert what we should do next. Kert turned back downhill, and said he may not eat me, but I don't want your blood on my conscious, or my mangled frame. Kert is such a loser sometimes, but I love him, he's the most awesome bike I've ever had! At that point I prayed that the cubs mother was somewhere far enough away to give me a shot at a forty (40) mph downhill. I don't think that a Black Bear can run that fast, and even if they can, I am skinny enough to hopefully be a waste of time for one to expend that much energy. The playful cub then ran up the mountain side, and watched me from the ridge top. I was thankful that he observed from a distance, and all alone.

The ride in the the Blue Ridge mountains are beautiful. The Parkways dark tunnels, the views down into the valleys below, the mountain tops, it's so serene, and peaceful, that it truly leaves you with a sense being just a mile below heaven. I was in a head down, keep spinning, groove when I took a quick I look up and just at a glimpse noticed something round the curve slightly ahead of me. My initial thought, "Oh great what now, a rabid coyote!?" But this time it was a rider, and he was on the same quest. He too had his family trailing him, and was fighting to stay hydrated as well. He told me later that the last twenty-five (25) miles of the Assault from Hwy 80 up to Hwy 128 were much tougher than the seventy-five (75) miles from Greenville to Marion. After the climb to the summit, I am inclined to believe him! I also met a rider from Florida that said the same. He didn't like the decent as much. He said, "You don't have drops, and mountains like this where I'm from!" I am a downhill junkie myself! fifty (50) mph and more if I can get it!

The fire tower is a welcome sight. You know you have one last downhill after the watch tower, and that you are getting ever so close to THE mountain top.

I had finally arrived! I could see the sign for the State Park, and my heart went from a heavy beat to a flutter! Knowing that I was only three and half miles, or roughly just under four miles away from the top was encouraging. On the flip side knowing that my quads had started to tighten, and nearly seize after the twenty-eighth mile were a slight discouragement. I honestly didn't know that I would be able to climb Hwy 128 to the summit. My middle son, looked out the window and said, "You can do it!" I can't begin to tell you how that hit my heart! My wife was also yelling out encouraging words, "Come on old man!" Not really, she may have inside, but she yelled out, "You can do it baby!" My baby girl in the back seat yelling, "GO DADDY GO!" I knew at that point the only thing that would keep me from the top was the Rapture really taking place, or my legs just completely seizing up, and not churning the cranks to push me to the top. I would not quit, and would simply not turn back. The quads knotted, the hamstrings knotted, and I chugged a Strawberry Gatorade, and just kept pushing! I am one blessed fella to have a family stick behind me, and encourage the old man, to push to the finish. A twenty miler on Sunday is possible, but it will not involve a gradual three thousand foot gain! To God for sparing me one last climb, hopefully the first of many, to my family, to all cyclist, and my boy Kert, and Trek Bicycles, this blogs for you!

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