On Thursdays, I ride with my older daughter up to her Hebrew class. We used
to drive it. Rush hour traffic is so bad that it would take us about an
hour -- even with us qualifying for the HOV lane for the freeway portion --
to go the 15 miles to the class. (The return would only take 15 minutes.)
The bike ride to the class is basically flat, with a downhill from our house
to the Sammamish River Trail, a pastoral rail-trail, and then a short,
killer (10% grade?) half mile up to the teacher's house [1]. The killer hill
has been very daunting. Since we started riding it in February, what we've
done until yesterday is a complicated bus/car/bike shuttle such that we
could ride to the bottom of the hill and then mount the bike on top of the
car; we would drive the last bit to the house, and then drive back home.
After our successful Daffodil Classic ride last weekend [2] I felt like we
should no longer be afraid of the killer hill. So, for the first time, we
gave it a go last night. The first bit we did straight up, and then I pulled
us into a side street to catch our breath. Then we had a second go at the
next bit, but we completely pooped out, so we dismounted, and walked the
bike while catching our breath. Then we pulled up into someone's driveway,
and got back on, and made it the rest of the way. Wow!
Rose probably spent too long changing back into her bike things after class,
burning up precious remaining daylight. By the time we got to the bottom of
the killer hill (me clenching the brake levers the whole way down), it was
8:30 and the sun had been down for probably 20 minutes. I put on the lights.
Once it became truly dark, the number of other trail users pretty much
evaporated. We were away from the suburban section and riding along fields.
The clouds occasionally floated away from the gibbous moon, giving the
headlight a companion for us to see by. We fell into one of those tandem
grooves, where you just pedal and pedal and sail along seemingly
effortlessly. Rose started to sing the prayers and blessings from her class.
I sang with her, and they came out wild and free from both of us.
We left the trail, and our focus turned to more practical things -- cars,
the road, the last leg getting home. I was tired, and bet she was too, when
we finally got back to the house. But it was a great ride home. It makes me
look forward to next Thursday night. Rides all can't be like that, but when
they are, they're something else.
[1]
http://www.topozone.com/map.asp?lat=47.7644&lon=-122.2694&s=48&size=l&symshow=n&u=0&layer=DRG25
shows the topo for the area. He lives near where it says "water tank".
[2]
http://groups.google.co.in/groups?q=daffodil+classic&hl=en&lr=&selm=1113849373.358942.106770%40g14g2000cwa.googlegroups.com&rnum=1)
or http://tinyurl.com/c2xzx,
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Warm Regards,
Claire Petersky
Personal page: http://www.geocities.com/cpetersky/
See the books I've set free at:
http://bookcrossing.com/referral/Cpetersky