August 7, 2020 – The eighth blog in the RestorationAge

I wrote a blog last Friday, but it was 12 short hours before I was to leave for a much needed break from my house and as I reread it a few times, I found it very angry and more of a word vomit than anything. So it got archived and I moved on and left town the next morning.

It is now 6:07pm on Friday night and I don’t have anything prepared for this week because I’ve been computer free for five of the last seven days. So this blog post will be a speed blog. I apologize in advance if it sucks.

Vacations probably aren’t approved of by most people right now, but I haven’t been on a trip that didn’t involve someone else’s bike race or taking someone to college in many, many years. With Mike working a lot of overtime and me scrounging for billable hours, it was a mountain of a decision (pun intended), but in the end, we decided to go to Asheville with Curtis and Tracy Tolson along with group of other people to do a bike touring camp through the mountains of North Carolina.

You know I needed to get away if I am volunteering to go climb mountains in North Carolina. I am a flatlander and even the mention of doing East Louisville has me cringing in dread. I still can’t believe that after viewing the elevations and rides that were to come that I agreed to go. Tracy, Curtis and Mike all have told me how well I’m riding this year and have been pumping me up. Tracy declared that we were going to make Mt. Mitchell our bitch. I wanted to believe her and so I followed her lead when I just didn’t know.

It’s amazing how much the support and belief of other people can help lift you to another level. While I never told myself I couldn’t do the 35 mile climb to the summit and back, I listened to Tracy and the positive part of the experience I was having. I didn’t let negativity flood in.

The first test was two days prior on a 12 mile climb followed by a 60 mile drag back to Asheville, my longest ride ever. We did it. We were the first women from our group to the top of the climb and hid well and survived the last 60 miles. I was tired, but we did it. This was going to be nothing compared to the coming Mt. Mitchell climb in two days time.

Was I nervous the morning of the Queen Stage of this tour? Hell yes. Let’s just say that I woke up very early and there was NOTHING left inside of me by the time we started. The climb basically started the second we got on our bikes. There were some CRAZY, steep inclines on the way out of town. I remember thinking, if it’s going to be all like this, I’m in trouble, but I kept my mouth shut.

It was a foggy morning and Curtis started setting pace for the front of the B group, which included Tracy and myself. The morning fog was welcome because I couldn’t see what was coming. There is nothing worse than looking ahead on a climb and all you see is uphill.

The group started to sort out at mile 10. There were a couple of people that wanted to stretch their legs and go a little faster. Curtis obliged and the pace increased a couple miles an hour. It was something I wasn’t ready for, so I dropped off a little. Ben, the tour leader, asked if I was okay. I said that I just needed to do my pace. Then it settled at the front up ahead and I could see that. A car passed me and I jumped on their bumper and let them pull and settle me back onto Tracy’s wheel. I was proud of my mind over matter. There was a long way to go and if I was going to be alone merely 10 miles into the climb, it was going to be a long day.

Curtis was a champ and set a great pace for Tracy and myself. I remember looking down at my odometer at 12 miles, the same amount of climb I had done a couple days earlier. I had made it that far. Several others crossed over to our wheels and hung there but then they were gone off our wheels. Our pace stayed consistent. Heart rate was consistent. It got harder in places, then easier in places.

Seventeen miles and we reached our sag stop. No rest for the weary, we filled our bottles, grabbed a bar and on we went. 20 miles uphill, 25 miles uphill, how can I be doing this? 30 miles uphill and we made the turn into the 4.7 mile 5.7% average drag to the summit. I had looked at the route on my computer a million times and knew what loomed. Pure pain. It didn’t disappoint, but Curtis and Tracy didn’t let me quit. They pumped me up with positivity. I told them that if I reached the top still with them I might cry.

I wanted to drop in the last two miles so many times, but I had come this far, how could I do that? It’s only two miles – well, two miles on an 8+% climb, but still. The looks on the faces of the guys in our group that were already at the summit, including Mike, were to behold. Again, Tracy and I were first women to the top and everyone was proud of us. I may be 51 years old, but when people you respect are proud of you or surprised by you and your ability, that means something. (Note: Tracy and I are 25th and 26th all time women on our route from base to summit according to Strava.)

We took celebratory snaps and then we descended, which IS in my wheelhouse. And what a blast that was.

I think somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if I could climb Mt. Mitchell. I think somewhere in the back of Mike’s mind, he wondered if I could climb Mt. Mitchell. I did it. As someone said to me earlier in the week, you just decide when you get up that day, this is what I’m doing today and you go do it.

I called this blog post Climbing Mt. Corona, because I kinda feel the same way about this beast of a virus. It’s the unknown and I really don’t know how I’m going to overcome it or how we are going to overcome it, but we just have to get up everyday and know this is what we are doing today, until we get to the top. One day. And then we’ll get to carve down the other side.

Support your friends. Support people who aren’t your friends. Wear a mask.

It’s 6:45pm. How that for a speed blog?

Till next week –

LLM