I’m sitting here on my chair, looking for excuses to continue all morning. Why? It’s John’s fault. Yesterday we went out for a 3.5 hour ride for the first time in ages and I found out what John’s been doing these past few weeks – riding like a machine, if his form is anything to go by.

Our goal this morning was Mt. Bouquet, which I climbed last year in fine form. This year was a little less stellar, but at least I got to the top. Here is the beginning of the climb, a ways before the first ramp of 21% (which I rode in my 39 because my derailleur decided I didn’t need the granny gear).

It’s a short (22 minutes today), but hellacious climb of fits and starts that can’t decide what it wants to do with itself. After the 21%, for example, it actually descends a little, before ramping up to 15% or more, and so on and so forth. I like the respites, but I also like to know what’s coming around the corner.

But we got up the thing, and by that time that was all that counted.

The long ride back home was at race page again and, if I can believe him, even John was hurting by the time we reached the parking lot. If you see another post from me today, you’ll know I’ve found my reason to keep my butt on the chair and off the bike!