Flight of the Bumble Bee

It's time to get serious about biking. I'll never lose any significant weight riding short downhill rides. So here goes...

SR 56 and Three Witches Loop

Yesterday, I mapped out a route that I thought was relatively flat and would get me all the way home without having to climb any hills of consequence. I also wanted a loop as opposed to an "out and back" to break up the monotony (I go real slow). So I picked a route which would take me down the 56 bike path to Torrey Pines State Beach, north to Del Mar and back home through Fairbanks Ranch and Rancho Santa Fe on San Dieguito Road. Looked pretty easy.

I did my usual “get on the bike, open the garage door, yell out to my wife to shut the garage door as I bolted out of our driveway” before the neighbors could see me in my riding clothes... I mean kit. On the 56 bike path, it’s mostly downhill until you get to Torrey Pines State Beach. Then I turned right to head into Del Mar. I thought, “hey, where did this hill come from?” It turned out there was a climb up into Del Mar. It was pretty slow going, with all the cyclists on the road passing me by. By the time I got to Del Mar, I was pretty winded. But, I figured I’d already done most of the climbing. 

Was I ever wrong. Stupidly, I really thought it was gonna be nice and flat the rest of the way. Except that there are a series of climbs on San Dieguito Road called the “Three Witches” that should’ve been called Three Bitches! As I labored up the three hills in succession, I thought I was gonna have a heart attack. But the fear of humiliation was more powerful than anything else. I had to stop a couple of times and I pretended there was some mechanical issue with my bike. It was especially important to pretend I had a problem with my bike when some young twenty something female was going right by me chatting with her friend as she effortlessly climbed the hills. I was almost hoping for a real mechanical, like a flat or two so I could call my wife and ask for a rescue. But then, I really needed to persevere. So I clawed my way to the top of the Three B... Witches. After almost 3 hours and change I rolled into my driveway exhilarated! I had done a 30+ mile ride and I was still alive. Not only that, I felt great. I even lollygagged in my driveway OUTSIDE the garage. C’mon out neighbors! I don’t care that you’ll see me in tights! I think I'm a cyclist. 


Then I had a huge lunch.

A cross between a bumble bee and a whale, he said!

Flight of the Bumble Bee

During that ride I found myself in the middle of an organized charity bike ride (The Tour de Cure) and along the way, my photo was taken. I found the photo on the web this morning and paid an exorbitant amount of money for a digital file of the photo. I was on my Silver Thunder Rocinante, my tight shorts and my yellow and black jersey. My chin was hanging to my chest and I think I might have been drooling too. I’m so proud of the picture. I sent it to everybody I knew. My son, he’s so encouraging. He sent be a text message to acknowledge getting the photo with a note: “Pop, you look like a cross between a bumble bee and a whale!” I feel like Rodney Dangerfield... No respect.