On Saturday, I rode an easy 35 miles with a friend. On Sunday, I had a strange ride by myself. I live in a hilly area, and in order to really call yourself a hill climber, you have to tackle a certain hill that I had never done. You get extra cred for doing after a gradual 1700' climb. I have done the 1700' climb many times and it was easy on Sunday, so I decided to tag on the short, steep climb. I got nervous and delayed the start after I saw a truck stall out trying to go up. It was slow and I was breathing like a freight train in my easiest gear, but I made it. When I got to the top, rain started pouring down. The hill was too steep and slick to safely descend. I felt like a cat in a tree. After fishtailing one too many times, I veered into a driveway (it was too slick to stand on the pavement) and walked down the hill in rock-lined drainage ditch. That is the first time I have gone up a hill and been unable to make it back down.
I stand and rejoice every time I see a woman ride by on a wheel...the picture of free, untrammelled womanhood--Susan B. Anthony