getting taken for a ride.

inspiration for me takes many many forms, and sometimes just a little change in the weather can open up a whole new can of worms. in the last post i wrote about getting back out on the bike and just letting the mountains (or hills depending on your frame of reference- coloradoans) just take over. well, they have shown me something quite new.

i've caught a cycling bug again. and this time it's for real.
i was getting super strong pushing the 'ol 52x16 up skyline road up to three times a week. but as tough as i felt riding up a mountain in the biggest gear possible was like riding with square wheels. it sure hasn't been as bad as that time i was riding the morgul-bismarck "wall" and started rolling back in between pedal strokes. i should be flying up the hills like a true grimpeur. the climbs are what makes cycling so interesting. it's where classic battles are fought and people crack. where the suffering begins. mountains are the teachers.
but i sure wasn't flying up the mountains. and i was suffering in the wrong way, to be perfectly honest.
i also wanted to go further past the hills, get lost, and find myself in my new surroundings here. i wanted to go... faster.

i decided to invest in some firepower. i chose a better weapon.
i bought a new bicycle.

i felt like i have betrayed faustina, but it is time to let go a little bit. thousands upon thousand of miles that bike has taken me.

fast (except on the uphill).
it's been less than two weeks now and i have put about 200 miles on the new bicycle. it has changed how i ride.

the difference is unbelievable. i had been riding on my toes because of the momentum of the drivetrain. i couldn't shake the saddle sores even after three seat changes. my lungs are opening up because of the wider handlebars. and even after all of that pain (the wrong kind), i still loved riding that old bicycle. i was ready for something new. i couldn't wait to take it out for a huge ride, further than i had gone before.
well, last weekend i got taken for a ride. i was out forty miles (which mapmyride told me later), before i even realized that i had gone that far and before i realized that i had no idea where i was. i was trying to get down to the tulip festival in woodburn, which on paper was only supposed to be 45 miles- 50 tops (mapmyride), then hitch a ride back with brooke, her brother and nephews. easy. i've done that distance on the fixed gear no problem. did it a week before!

but take a few wrong turns and voila! epic ride time.
i think i actually cracked a little more mentally than i did physically that day. but, it was more of realizing that i knew nothing out of the area that i have seen in the past few months of living here. and that's okay. i was really afraid of having to ask for help or something, or of getting blown over in the wind because of exhaustion (i admit, it's happened before and it's no fun). i had to stop and figure out where the hell my new bicycle had taken me. i had to turn around. i had to make the phone call to abort the mission. i didn't want to get picked up. bicycling and independence go hand in hand for me... i had to find my own way back home, or back to brooke's brother's house. something.

i had to buy some maps. stopping helped me to realize that i wasn't really lost that badly, because i wasn't ever in the middle of nowhere. i was in the suburbs of suburbs of suburbs of portland.
sometimes that is even more scary than being in the middle of nowhere.
i was in wilsonville.

it took two maps to get back to town. and morale improved greatly when i got to put away the map that was further away from home. i really had to suck it up and just pedal one circle at a time, not take any more chances, and make sure that i was on the right road. it got me to focus on my form very seriously. thirty or so miles later i was near the new rendezvous point in hillsboro. back in fairly familiar territory. a old B-17 bomber was flying low overhead and i knew that i was near the hillsboro airport (they have a pretty big airshow this time of year)... coming in for a landing. i started riding faster again, with a little fist pump that i had made it. i was finally suffering in the right way. i was humbled. i let my mind beat me before my legs even gave out. i was shown where my place was. and it didn't even take a mountain to show me that. perspective.
i am so ready for more. can't wait to try the ronde van portlandia and the otto miller/dutch canyon rides. and then, this summer, a ride to the coast.