Two Wheel Blogs

Route: South Roxana to Whitesides Hill
Time: 1:35
Miles: 28.2
Pace: 17.7

Riding Tunes: Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers, GREATEST HITS

Well I started out down a dirty road.
Started out all alone.
And the sun went down, as I crossed the hill
And the town lit up, the world got still.

After a nine-weeks absence, tonight was my first chance to do the Whitesides Hill ride. I've ridden a lot of miles since the last time I climbed Whitesides, but with the exception of the Covered Bridge ride on 7.03, all of them have been mostly flat. I've spent a lot of time going back and forth, but very little going up and down. This became apparent as I made my first ascent.

I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings.
Coming down is the hardest thing.

As we were getting ready to roll out, I realized I didn't know any of the riders who were there. No matter. It's a hill workout, which meant the following:

• I would drop off the back of the pack like a ball rolling off a table.
• I would end up doing most of the ride by myself.

So it didn't matter that I didn't know the people I would not be riding with. "Thank goodness you have your iPod," I assured myself, "and it's cued up to Petty." I went for a short ride to warmup. When I got back to the parking lot, I saw the tail end of the pack heading down the trail. I had missed the rideout. Fortunately, they were not too far ahead and not going too fast, so I was able to catch up pretty quickly. We rode down the Watershed Trail, through my neighborhood, then out to the SIU campus, where road work had torn up parts of our route. The lead pack had separated itself; I was on the tail end of the second group. As we began our first climb of Whitesides, the gap between the front of our pack and the tail end (me) widened. Once we reached the summit, I tried to re-establish contact with the pack, but I couldn't.

Well the good ol' days, may not return.
And the rocks might melt, and the sea may burn.
I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings.
Coming down is the hardest thing.

After that, it was just me, my bike, and the road. I tried to push myself as best I could, but when I'm not riding as part of a paec line, I don't feel the sense of obligation to keep the pace up. The last time I rode Whitesides, I did six loops. I decided I'd do five loops and call it a night. I stayed seated for the first three; for the last two, I stood up and pumped. I did my five, then took the Bluff Road to New Poag Road, which would take me back to Moreland, to the South Roxana trailhead, and to my car.

Well some say life will beat you down.
Break your heart, steal your crown.
So I've started out, for God knows where.
I guess I'll know when I get there.

As I was coasting down the road out of SIUE, I was lapped by the lead pack, the hammerheads who climb like mountain goats and seem incapable of riding slower than 20 mph. I don't aspire to be one of them, but I would like to be one of the second tier riders, the ones who can at least remain in visual contact with the lead pack. I'm nowhere near there yet.

But as I coasted with Petty in my ears, I reflected on this song and the fact that this was my first year as a cyclist. It started in December, riding the stationary bike at the Y to rehab my knee. It continued as soon as the weather warmed and I could take it outside. Since then, I've ridden whenever I could, wherever I could, for as long as I could. I've ridden with groups and by myself. I've learned a lot, but I've got a lot more to learn. This is all still very new to me. I've still got a long way to go. But at least I'm on my way. Right now, that's all that maters.

I'm learning to fly, around the clouds.
But what goes up must come down.
I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings.
Coming down is the hardest thing.
~ Tom Petty, "Learning to Fly"