I thought it would be a good idea to ride TO the course of the half marathon, ride it, (so I know what I'm in for) and ride home. That's like a 60km return trip. NBD. Element of adventure #2.
Trish, my partner in crime, asked on Thursday if I wanted to go if it was still raining. It's been raining here off and on for DAYS. Of course I wanted to ride in the rain! I was actually hoping it would still be raining. Element of adventure #3.
I love to play in the rain. Puddle jumping, running, biking. Rain or shine, I'll pick rain every time thankyouverymuch.
10:45 Saturday morning I set out. Grinning like a fool. I'M SO EXCITED!!!! Riding over to T's house I spot a large puddle in the distance. Being me, I speed up for it and blast on through, laughing like a fool. People are staring as they drive by. I know they're wishing they were having as much fun as me.
I continue to swerve and hit every puddle on the way. Laughing like I'm 3 every. Single. Time.
7km's later, I'm blissfully happy, soaked, and at Trish's house to begin the real adventure. Even though my lady bits already hate me. Wow. Forgot what that was like.
We're riding, chatting and it hits me: I LOVE this! Unlike running, I can keep up, I can maintain a conversation. You mean I can visit AND feel the burn?! It's like passive exercise. Sign me up!
We drop into the River Valley of Mud. Srsly. It's slick. And dirty! I walked down, yes down, the first hill. Because if I lost control, which I'm sure I would have, I would have landed IN the river. Rain for days means a wicked high, fast and dirty debris filled water way. In most places, it was completely flush with the bank.
Then we see this.
"Can't go around it. Can't go under it."
Thinking, "It's just a 10 foot long puddle!" We push on through. Trish in the lead.
It's deep.
"Gotta go THROUGH it!"
I'm in hysterics on the other side. Of course I make her go again so I can take some pictures.
We continue puddle diving our way along. See a few people out running and walking. I'm in the zone. Love and awesomeness are radiating from me.
"You're wicked!"
"Looking strong!"
"You're my hero!"
I just wanted everyone to feel as good as I did.
We maintained a decent speed, riding along the water's edge. Squealing every chance we could. Aiming for the puddles. We'd call out "Tree!" or "Puddle!" as needed so the one in the rear could speed up or prepare to dodge accordingly. Until we crashed.
T waited at the top of the hill for me, giddy with anticipation of what presented itself before us. A sizable puddle. At the bottom of the hill. She takes off with me close behind. The puddle was about 8" deep. It also had a hidden surprise: erosion. She slammed into the lip pretty hard and half bailed towards the left. I was thisclose behind her so I swerved to the right, hoping to avoid whatever it was that she hit. Nope. I nailed it, fell off my bike and landed in the water.
"The best part about this is I could pee right now and I'm so wet no one would ever know!"
At this point we encountered our first major hill. The kind we couldn't ride up. The kind I couldn't push my bike up. It was the kind of hill that I had to scale on my hands and knees, reaching for any sort of twig or rock to help myself up. Some people may have stopped at this point. Trish passed me my bike, snapped a picture and worked her way up like nobodies business. On to the next!
I'm so hardcore right?
We *may* have passed a few "Trail Closed" signs on our way. Honestly, the first one was so far to the left, I really thought they were talking about that trail. Another one, we EXITED. What good is a large sign and snow fence if you only put it on one side of the trail?! Srsly. The only area that was clearly blocked off, wasn't a problem for us. And I don't just mean it wasn't a problem to circumnavigate the gate, the trail conditions were fine.
We arrived at our halfway point. I was tired, but I think it was just standard Saturday fare for Trish the Machine. She's so amazing.
"We could go back on the other side. That's where I used to run. There's one part for sure that we'll have to bum slide down, but it should be good other than that."
"Sure!" I respond. "I don't mind getting a little dirty!"
This ladies and gentlemen, is the exact moment the game changed.
Not far into this section, we have to walk our bikes. It's slippery and wet of course, it's also pretty narrow single track. Our mantra quickly became, "Just for this section. It can't be much farther." Brutal climbs that involved hooking our bikes on lonely trees in order to try and gain some traction. At the almost top of one incline, we both noticed the section to the right. It was boggy, but passable. Off I went. With no fear, no questions.
Hip deep in mud.
"I don't even know what to DO!" As I turned around to seek Trish for help. I watched laughter build from her belly until it erupted. What else can you do?
"Well, it's not quick sand."
So I try and make myself big. Flopping forward on my belly to try and army crawl out. Only now both legs are hip deep. And there is still the issue of my bike. I can barely move from laughing so hard. Trish crosses no problem, learning from my mistakes no doubt, and I too eventually make it out. COVERED in mud.
My already too heavy bike is now bogged down with mud. The brakes are having issues. Sticks are caught in the gears. If there was some sort of bike "treat", my bike deserves one and we're not even home yet!
Eventually we get to the inevitable "Bum Slide" section. It's steep. Might as well be ice as muddy as it is. We decide on the following plan of action: I will bum slide down & stop myself before I hit the river. Trish would then slide my bike that I would catch & safely transport to a safe, flat spot. Do the same for hers & she would then bum slide down herself. Easy right? Or I could bum slide down, in hysterics, loose control, get some air, jam my arm & land in the river. I could also not be able to get any traction to stand up, move myself to a safe spot to grab my bike. Or maybe even my bike could land in the river & I'd barely be able to pull in out never mind crawl/drag it to the "flat" spot. We could then over strategize what to do with T's bike. (For the record, this is the only point on this trip, heck, in the entirety of our friendship that I've seen anything even remotely close to fear in her eyes.) Just sayin', it could happen.
We figure the worst has GOT to be over. I mean, that's enough adventure for one day right?! Nope. Not even close really.
The river's washed out the trail. Completely. No way can we turn around. Trish tries for about a second to talk me into just going through. I can't see the other side. Way too much danger for my taste. So I convince her to "just go up a little", we'll meet back with the trail where the water's down. I even manage to convince the both of us that it looks like another trail! Just up that small bank through the trees. I'm wrong. Now we're full on bush whacking. No end in site. My bike has gotten so. Heavy. Everything hurts. I land in some wild rose bushes. There's blood. Maybe a few tears. Lots of sweat. And my trucker mouth obvs.
One more river crossing, this one we did go through, a few more hill climbs and we're back to civilization! I have never been so happy to see cement & people in my LIFE! We looked a mess. People were commenting on how much fun it looked like we had. We rode down Jasper and folks were staring, honking, generally confused by our presence on city streets. I couldn't figure it out. Did we really look that bad? Sure, Trish was muddy, had a little on her face but she didn't look crazy. When I asked, the look she gave me answered all my questions.
It was a slow ride home. My gears jammed so I could only ride in one. Thanks bike. Guess that's what I get for putting you in the river.
I returned, 5 hours, some 40 km's later. Blissed out. We went our seperate ways so I didn't get a shot of the two of us but Trish is my adventure buddy & I have no question we'll have many more to come.
I'm tired guys.
