Time flies when you’re climbing a mountain, right?
Of course not.
Each pedal stroke feels as though it robs you of at least a minute of your life, and that spot up ahead maybe 100 yards or so where it levels out for a spell? Well, that feels at least an hour away.
I typically don’t keep tabs on my time for climbs. It’s too depressing when that that whole effort turns out to be only about 20 minutes and I hoped to be out for 2-3 hours. Really? I have to find another climb? Maybe two or three?
Dang!
However, it was just a year ago when climbing took on a whole new vibe for me. You might or might not remember it was about this time when my beloved Ibis Mojo’s frame broke.
Heartbroken and, well, pretty much typically just broke, I had no choice to buy a replacement. So, I hopped on my Cannondale without flinching. Until I hit the mountains.
Oh, that’s when reality hit.
As I felt those minutes slowly squeezed from my life I figured my Cannondale had to weigh at least 15 pounds more than the Mojo.
When it did take an hour to get to that flat spot, I yearned for those two or three extra granny gears as my legs screamed for a mutiny.
See, my Cannondale is a ’96 US Olympic Mountain Bike replica. That means old school. This is what Tinker and Juli rode in Atlanta. Seems like a lifetime ago.
Oh, how far we’ve come!
Since we were on the verge of leaving for vacation when the Mojo bit the big one, I had no choice but to make the quick switch. For the next month, man, did I bitch to my poor Cannondale.
When we got home I looked around my garage and, damn! I’m now a one-bike dude (aside from my half assembled Bike Friday that needs a new headset).
A funny thing happened by the time the leaves started changing and falling. Memories of my Mojo faded while my fitness obviously bloomed.
My typical weekender up the logging roads into the Oregon’s Coastal Range didn’t feel as though it was robbing me of life. Instead I was thriving up the climbs.
As the year progressed, I came to understand the biggest difference came from the looks of other riders who passed, or stopped to chat.
They used to marvel at my Mojo with envy eyes, even though it was pretty well banged up. Now they fire quizzical looks like, is this guy for real? Out here on that? Must be a homeless camp nearby.
As I found myself fantasizing about rolling around the mountains with Tinker and Juli back in the day, I realized in the eight years since I nabbed the Cannondale on craigslist for $150, it has been in the shop once. Once!
While in the shop, one of the wrenches was an old Cannondale fanatic, and he raved about all the original equipment on the bike. It’s like a dude hitting on your wife at a party. Oh, how I came to reignite my love of her!
Granted the mileage paled in comparison to the Mojo, which typically made a shop appearance at least two or three times a year. It got wows and oohs from the gang there. And typically cost more than $150 each visit.
In this year since I moved to the Cannondale full-time, riding 7-12 hours a week, I haven’t even had a flat tire, much less any brake or shifting issues. And the HeadShok? Sweet as ever!
As summer fitness emerges, I’m hitting that weekender climb with gears to spare. Only when I ride past that trail that killed the Mojo does it even cross my mind.
Hard to believe this Cannondale has been my go-to bike for a year now.
Man, time flies …
Time to ride
