Last night I found a small office with a door that closed, and was looking forward to a quiet night ALONE with my book. But instead I got cornered by a guy (who really is quite lovely) who wanted to watch the movie together (this ride is a lot like summer camp). Then, he asked me out. So after politely turning him away, I felt like I couldn't just fuck off to be by myself without hurting his feelings. Plus, he had cookies.
So this morning I was more strategic about my exit. I cracked about 2 dozen eggs to help with breakfast, cleaned up a bathroom stall including picking up a used tampon off the floor, and watched a bunch of the veteran riders strategically hang out drinking coffee while others busted their asses to clean up the church we'd stayed in. I decided that I'd done enough.
"Hey, look over there!" I didn't say. And then rode out in the other direction. My early escape was also made possible by the fact that there were only 2 turns on the entire 55-mile route: the one onto the scenic highway, and the one off of the scenic highway. Technically I would be riding the non-official route over the mountain rather than around it, but the only people who would be doing the "official" route were the "less experienced" riders, and flatlanders from out of state. Being around people all the time was really starting to grate on me, and I needed to make sure that I wasn't captured by a group on the 20-mile ascent.
As I pulled out onto the freeway, I passed the rapey vampire triathlete lady ("I vant to suck your vheel!"). I politely and cheerfully said good morning, while making sure to pass her and her much less annoying companion at a pace that did not invite them to follow.
And then I was just me and the road. For about 22 miles the road took me up to about 5,000 feet through the rocky desert moonscape with views down into the valley and across to the other mountains. It was impressive enough that I stopped to take a few pictures. That's saying something.
At the top I had expected the bitter cold of 2 days before, but the weather was sunny and warm with practically no wind. It really was a perfect day. Over the next 10 miles or so I gradually gave back about 1000 ft of the 5000 I'd earned, shooting through wooded areas, campgrounds and meadows... and of course horse farms. Other than the horse farmers and wilderness firemen, it seemed like the sort of place that only a few hundred people a year saw during camping or outdoorsy vacations. Of course, the several hundred cars that passed me on the shoulderless road belied that, but there was only one near-accident that I saw in 50 miles, so let's ignore that...
One car sat behind me for long enough to make me concerned, and when it pulled alongside, I realized that it was the director's car with his family. His wife - who is lovely and hardworking - leaned out the window and started taking pictures. I tried to look badass, but eventually I got sick of posing and stuck my finger up my nose. She lowered the camera. "Don't worry! We got you, girl!"
Wait... did she think I was the sort of person who couldn't wait to pick my nose until I was alone... and there was no camera in my face? I find that I am really confusing to people from the south, and my jokes usually wind up making me feel awkward and embarrassed. Oh well.
I had to climb back up several hundred feet in a couple of miles before I could come down off the mountain, and that's when I realized that my legs were bone tired. Not sore, just really REALLY tired. Luckily it was over quick and all I had was another flowing, gradual, perfectly graded descent where I hardly had to touch my brakes. I tucked and dove down the mountain. As I whooshed along I reminded myself that THIS is why I do all those tough, early training sessions: to be able to come out and have experiences like today. It had been a ling time since I did a run or a ride that made me remember that...
Because of my early start and not stopping for lunch, I was the first one to arrive at the night's sleeping spot. I had already grabbed my stuff, set up my sleeping spot, showered and hung my towel out to dry, and was helping unload the rest of the truck when the vampire triathlete rolled up. "Hey! I was looking for you to keep riding."
"Errr, I'm gonna go get pizza now," I said, throwing the last duffel on top of the pile. I had been back for over an hour. What did she mean "looking for me?" Creeper.
"Is there wifi here?" she interrupted herself. I waited until she was staring down at her phone and just... wandered off. Sometimes when you feel cornered constantly, the old Irish Goodbye is the only thing left in an introvert's tool kit.
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