After your first day of cycling, one
dream is inevitable. A memory of motion lingers in the muscles of
your legs, and round and round they seem to go. You ride through
Dreamland on wonderful dream bicycles that change and grow. ~ H.G.
Wells
I thought I could
remember how to ride-how to pedal, how to spin the cranks 'round and
'round. But I couldn't. That memory, that Wells speaks to, is still
there somewhere inside me. But it is a bit too distant to power
through the snow a week ago. Four months away from the bike was a
bit too much to make riding that day a “wonderful dream.” That
was then and gradually I'm finding my legs again.
I'd pedaled just
once previous to my “real” snowbike ride last week and that ride
signaled that it could be a long road ahead. The packed singletrack
at Levis Mound finally needed to be ridden if I were really going to
test my fitness. I'd be totally surprised if I passed the exam.
Although Levis is a popular trail for snowbiking (and XC skiing) I
felt relieved that I could escape the parking lot by myself-no point
in embarrassing myself or holding anyone else back. Bundled up in the
barely single digit temps, the unfamiliar motion of my legs turning
pedals prompted me down the trail. The snowbike trail groomer guys
do excellent work here and although the snow couldn't be better, I
struggled with every incline. The trail is nearly tabletop flat, but
no matter, the shifters were constantly searching for the right
(easiest) gear.
What we call the
base loop at Levis is just over five kilometers and I knew better
than to tackle anything more. At the halfway point, my lungs and
legs burned and I seriously wondered if I'd make it (knowing no
matter what, I would have to). Cycling usually cheers me up, but
this struggle was pushing my moral down in a hurry. Every familiar
turn in the trail, every snowy bridge I traversed, brought me closer
to ending this frustration. The final few hundred meters were the
worst-the chalet was in sight, but all I could do is look at the big
fat tires to see if they were flat or not.
The following day
was much the same-I left my two riding partners a short time after we
started and bid them well-I was gassed already. Backtracking to the
previous trail intersection, I explored the base loop again with
about the same results. Feeling like a whipped puppy, I stowed the
fatbike away and vowed to keep at it until I there was some semblance
of legs astride my bike. A midweek ride and a couple classic ski
outings gave me a little hope-it seemed I could breathe again.
Spirits lifted
somewhat, I set about thinking maybe we should have a
no-rider-left-behind ride on the long loop. I hoped the no drop idea
would keep me with riding partners anyway. A Facebook ride event was
created and I soon had a few brave souls that would join me. The 9
mile long course is no easy ride (for me) so this would be jumping in
with both feet and I hoped I'd have understanding bikers in case I
faltered. Just to keep things reasonable, I took the lead, feeling
the rest of the gang really should have an “easy recovery ride”
so to speak. The memory of how riding on snow was supposed to feel
started to drift back and the ribbon of white through the woods
flowed beneath the fatty as it should. There was no illusion of
spinning up the more difficult climbs-just mashing whatever gear I
could to make it over the top. The difference this day was I could
recover and continue onto the next section of packed powder. “Yeah,
this is going much better” I thought-I am going to pull though
this trial and actually enjoy it! The guys were great at encouraging
me and maybe they saw too that I was on the road to recovery. This
time, with each recognizable section of singletrack rolling past, I
felt more and more confident-not that I wasn't tired, but at the
least my demeanor improved.
By the end of the
outing over an hour and half had passed and I felt a sense of
accomplishment when the bike rumbled across the trailhead parking
lot. That feeling had usually been reserved for the end of epic races
or terribly difficult adventures on the bike or skis. Today it was
back-and it felt good. For the rest of this biker gang, it was a
stroll in the park I'm sure and the post ride banter was of how
perfect the snow was, the prime conditions and how great the ride
was. I couldn't agree more.
