Not another f*#cking hill

I have started many posts over the last several months. They serve as a bit of a diary for me. I am not entirely sure why I never finished them. It has been almost 2 years since I moved to Nashville and it has become my home. I have mentally constructed a bubble so I can survive in a deeply “Red” state. The only other challenge for me is that this is not a particularly bike friendly city but it is working to get with creating ways to ride safely on the streets with bike lanes.

I have found a couple of groups to cycle with and have gotten reasonable familiar with biking safely in many parts of Nashville. This was not a good spring for riding. When I got the announcement for the Tour de Nash on May 21st, I was excited and signed up for the 46 mile ride which would take me through parts of Nashville I had never been. One of my young male friends was “game” to do it with me. When I saw that the route was riding completely around East Nashville, I knew I would likely be walking a few of the steepest hills. In my mind I had pictured a lovely spring day of weather in the 70-low 80s with thin cloud cover.

It was 84 degrees when we took off yesterday at 0730. I was carrying everything I thought we would need including pickle juice. It seemed like there were adequate Rest Stops so I decided to not use my Camelback. I used my new automatic tire pump just before we took off and decided to inflate to the top the range for the tire – not entirely sure why except that it was easy with he automatic pump. We took off about 7:50 AM. Two and a half miles into the ride, my front tire blew out. I had a spare tube and a patch kit and my friend was adept at changing tires. The tube had split longitudinally for several inches so patch was not going to work. We (he) got the tube I was carrying on. When it was almost inflated, the stem on the tube just sheared off. Fortunately he was carrying a tube as well so he changed it again. This was at least a 30 minute delay and the warm morning got warmer.

There was a spot in West Nashville where the route split the 25 mile ride from he 46 mile ride. I seriously thought about taking the shorter ride, but we had mentally committed to the long route. I had to walk up part of one hill before there first rest stop and was feeling pretty good about the ride – except that I was clearly holding my riding partner back. We kept going and while there were many challenging hills, they were fairly short and not a problem. The second rest stop was along the Cumberland River and we hydrated, got calories and felt good about our chances of finishing. The temperature was climbing and there was no cloud cover. I was starting to struggle more than I ever have on a ride after the first couple of East Nashville hills. I knew much of it was a mental game and I did make it up several that I was sure I wasn’t going to be able to when I was at the bottom. Midday, at about the 4th hill I had to walk part way up with over 10 miles to go, we realized we were a half a mile away for Red Headed Stranger, a Mexican restaurant with great margaritas and we went off course. The GPS topography showed that there was still quite a few climbs to come, and I knew I would barely be able to walk them.

Water, a spicy margarita, con queso with warm tortillas were restorative but not enough to get me back on bike for the rest of the ride. My friend got his partner to get his car in West Nashville where we started the ride and drive to East Nashville to pick us up. We got a second margarita because we were going to need to sit there another hour or so waiting for the ride. Not far into the second margarita I realized I was feeling not the edge of being drunk which was very unusual. I stopped drinking because I was going to need to drive home once I got back to my car. Nearly two hours passed before we were back to the cars and I knew I was still not be safe behind the wheel. My friends drove me home. It took another couple of hours before I felt “normalish” but my face was still warm to touch until about 9 PM. Fortunately I had the sense to stop before I got into real trouble. Not sure margaritas were the best choice for the state my body was in but we had a good time.

I clearly was not ready for that ride and my friends were good sports to take such good care of me. Next year, I will choose the 26 mile route. I do not think my body has fully recovered – I woke up at 4 AM in spite of being exhausted. My muscles are not as sore as I expected – we will see what tomorrow brings.

The beginning:

The end: