Skyline

For the past two days I've ridden my bike up Lovejoy and along Skyline road for a few miles. The trees crowd in on each side of you for the entire assent. You start breathing really heavily about three miles in and by mile five you are huffing and puffing like a wolf with a pig problem. The trees keep shadows on you and the hot sun is less than it should be. Finally, at the steepest point of the climb, you see a sign that says Skyline Road, and the wonderful relative flatness it promises is a mere 500 feet away. You are now so tired that you are in the absolute lowest gear that your bike goes and if you look down at the road on either side, you see slugs inching along faster than you.

Then you break out onto Skyline. The trees part on either side and there is a view of the valley stretching on and on and on and you suddenly realize why all of the rich and elite have chosen to build their mansions up here on the winding hills. The world looks manageable from this high up. As you cruise along, with the miles peeling off, your breathing returns to normal. You pass bikers here and there on the road and you wave to each other. You all look ridiculous in your spandex and helmets, but you all feel phenomenal.

Then you are done and you rip back down the hills fast enough to peel your face off.