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| Lone Rider | |
| By nuthatch | ||||
| 13 December 2005 | ||||
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The lone cyclist takes on the hills and the elements and reflects on his riding and friends. The lone rider hooked his Shimano cleats back into the M530 pedals and slowly rolled out from under the massive, spreading Locust tree that provided shelter from the pelting rain. Now exposed, the wind hit him full force. The protection from the elements was gone replaced by the stinging, icy cold droplets and gusting side winds that made riding miserable. He accelerated the Specialized Allez up the gentle grade heading towards hill 5. Only 3 more hills to go and he would be home. His sojourn along the back roads and wheat fields north of town would be complete for one more day. The undulating countryside was quiet. The sound of his pounding heart, the labored breathing, the wind rushing by his ears and the staccato-like pelting of rain on his helmet filled his senses. The highway traffic was nonexistent on this bitter fall day. That was good, he didn't like the cars nor the large trucks that occasionally passed by. Better to be alone he thought. Hill 5 was not kind this day. It came at you with a long rising approach that grew steeper as you neared the crest; slowly sapping your strength; constantly testing your will. The pedaling and commensurate shifting provided a small break from the mundane drudgery and nasty elements and it stoked the furnace within, warding off the cold and allowing him to concentrate on the effort needed to battle the road. As he came up on the summit and rose out of the saddle for that final assault to the crest, his cadence quickened, he challenged the hill, demanding more from the tired legs and wheezing lungs. On the downward slope he relaxed a bit, letting the legs grow new life and the breath return almost to normal. He knew he couldn't relax fully fighting the crosswinds to maintain his balance but the brief respite was welcomed. Another day along the back roads was almost over. He thought about his friends who were too weak of spirit and determination to be out in these elements. The sunshine riders didn't know the feeling of success, didn't know the victory of pitting yourself against the elements and winning. They, his overstuffed erstwhile companions, sat in their easy chairs sipping wine and reading books on these marvelous afternoons while he, out in the elements, rode with the spirit of the wind and the challenges a true bike rider faces. He had won another day, beaten the road, conquered the elements, and achieved his own little victory. The protection of the Locust tree was now far behind him and he felt good
Ride on, ride hard, ride often he thought, there are no wimps here and he pedaled off towards hill 6.
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