Blast From the Past

Back in our mountain bike racing heyday in the '80s, we also spent a lot of time training on road bikes as well. The quiet roads in the foothills were our playground, and we knew them all. For the most part we stayed in the triangle defined by our homes in Citrus Heights, Forresthill to the northeast and Placerville to the east. However, we often ventured far beyond those imaginary boundaries in search of tough climbs and sweet descents.

These days I rarely use those roads. The times have changed and nothing is as quiet or safe as it used to be. Traffic has increased and it feels like drivers are more aggressive and less patient. Still, every once in a while I get the urge to experience that kind of riding.

Today I rode from my apartment in Fair Oaks up Green Valley Road, climbed over Lotus Grade and rode through Coloma on Highway 49. As I looked up to the east, there it was in the distance: Marshall Grade. I gazed up at the hillside to see a road cut jutting up at a hideous angle as it shot toward the sky. Pain was on the horizon. From my vantage point on the highway, the grade looked pretty damn steep—worse than I remembered. I turned onto Marshall Road and hit the base of the climb, only to find myself having to shift into my 39x23 immediately. That is the gear I stayed in for the entire 2.5 miles.

Much like songs can trigger memories, rides often do the same. As I climbed, my mind flashed back to a ride I did with Steve, probably in 1987 or so, when we rode up Marshall Grade. We hit the climb and started to ramp up the pace. We shifted up a gear. Then another. And another. And another. Pretty soon we were hammering away in a 42x17 gear, flying uphill like madmen. When we reached the top, we high-fived and talked excitedly about how few mortals could have climbed with us. And it was probably true; that was a pro-level performance, if for only 2.5 miles.

Today as I struggled, I couldn't believe we were able to get into a 42x17 anywhere on the climb. It simply didn't seem possible. Whenever I think I'm getting fit, I'll go do that climb for a reality check. Right now I am not terribly fit. I did catch a guy towards the top who was suffering more than I, so that made me feel a little better. Schadenfreude is definitely part of cycling psychology toolbox.

After the climb I turned onto Greenwood Road, which is one of my favorites. I then took Highway 193 to Cool, then took Highway 49 through the canyon. After riding through Auburn I headed downhill on Auburn-Folsom Road all the way home.

I ended up with 78 miles, which is my longest ride in a couple years. It was pretty fun except for the broken spoke with 15 miles left. This is the fourth spoke I have broken in my rear wheel recently, and at this point I need to pony up for a new rear wheel. Riding home with a bent rim every few weeks is getting old.

Later.