Hillsboro Ride

I have been promising Amber that I would post these pictures since last weekend.

However, I had to play hide and seek with the cord to my little camera. I finally found it, today, under the desktop computer. Don't ask why it was there. I couldn't tell you, if you asked. But, I digress.

I almost didn't do this ride. It was supposed to rain. If you can't imagine it, riding in the rain is horrible. Even a soft rain can sting. It is cold and nasty. The roads get slippery and to top it off - When you ride in the rain, your back tire flings a stream of water behind you. So, when you get off your bike, you end up with a muddy streak which starts at your booty and ends up somewhere on your back. It is horrible. Just horrible.

But, the real reason I almost didn't do this ride is because I never trained for it. Not once did I get on my bike. And I had an idea what that would mean. It meant I wouldn't make it to the end. It meant a lot of huffing and puffing. It meant achy, sore muscles. It meant a very bruised and tender hiney.

I completely had made up my mind not to go. Then I read Amber's blog. After reading it, I knew that I had to get my lilly, white hiney off the couch and go ride with my daughter. My lilly, white hiney immediately started sending second thoughts to my brain. But I was determined that I would be there for my kiddo.(I was, also, worried and scared.) I warned Amber that I probably wouldn't make it far. My goal was to make it to the rest stop and hitch a ride with the SAG wagon. I figured, by then, I would look like I needed the SAG wagon.

So, against my better judgement, we met at the starting line.

I must say, that this was the smallest ride I have ever attended. It looked like maybe 50 people total were riding. They didn't even bother with a staggered start. They just let everyone go at the same time.

Amber and I were running a little late, so we got to start by ourselves.

We got lost immediately. Two blocks into the ride and we didn't know where to go. But after some map reading and finally asking a policeman for help, we found the trail.

We were awesome! For about 15 minutes.

Then we started to feel the burn.

Here, we were thinking that we had gone about 8 miles.
Uhm...... It was more like 3 miles.


There were lots of hills and mailboxes.
I think we stopped at everyone.
Amber was having trouble with her bike. It wouldn't change gears without the chain falling off. So, she had a really hard time going up the hills.
I thought, "I'm saved! There is no way, she is going to be able to finish this ride without changing gears. It's impossible."





I think Amber was worried about me.
She kept asking me if I was OK.
I thought she cared. I really did.
But when we finally made it to the rest stop, Amber said 6 words I I never thought I'd hear.
"I think I can keep going."




So, we kept going.
We were doing pretty well, til we hit this hill.
I don't know why, but this hill had enormous magnets under it.
Each stroke of the pedal was torment. I would pedal for 10 minutes and only move 2 feet.
I finally got off and walked.




We kept going. Hill after hill we pedaled.
Our muscles ached. Our hineys screamed. I didn't think it could get worse when the most embarrassing thing happened.
I fell off my bike.
I don't know if I was just that tired or just not paying attention. Or, if it was a combination of the two. All I know is that one moment I was stopping at the top of a hill, waiting for Amber. Then, in the next moment, the gravel was moving closer at an alarming rate.
I think I bounced.
Okay. I bounced.
Twice.




I almost called it quits.
My knee was gushing blood. (As you can see.)
Surely, a wound of this magnitude was cause to quit.
I could throw in the towel without any remorse. After all, I had sustained a mortal wound.
But, no!
Amber said we must continue.
Brat.



But, later she was feeling the pain.
And I said, "Suck it up, woman!"
Which she did. She dug deep and pulled us both the rest of the way.
I didn't even pedal.



Just when we thought we couldn't go any further, we turned the corner.
There waiting for us was the best welcoming committee you could ask for.
Jerry and Hayden.
Hayden was more interested in our bikes and the camera. But, Jerry loaded both our bikes and congratulated us thoroughly.
I have to admit, I missed having Fisherhead meet me at the end. He always peels me off the bike and babies me. He always makes me feel like I am the only person in the world who has ever ridden a bike.




Yeah, Hayden, on the other hand, was not very impressed.

But, we didn't care.

We had made it.

Through sweat, a little rain, and a few tears, we rode 26 miles.

As I was promising myself to never do it again, I heard Amber say, "So, when is the next ride? Isn't it in two weeks?"

My next blog will be a description of just how evil my daughter really is.