Back On The Saddle; the value of time off

Burnt out.  Tired.  Worn out.  Unenthusiastic though not quite jaded.  Needing a break from the bike.  That was how I was felt about two weeks ago.

Then, my last ride was a wonderful day spent with the beautiful and talented Canadian, Ali, and the no-less talented but perhaps not quite as pretty Texan, Mark Yuhas.  We three and Reilly rode the incomparable Monarch Crest Trail to Starvation Trail and the roads back to town. Huge thanks to Heather for providing shuttle.  It was a glorious sunny summer day in the mountains and we all rode well and had a blast, the first time either Ali or Mark had ridden this iconic trail.  Well, mostly good times; Ali’s little crash on the dirt road near the end of the ride will not be spoken of.

Following that ride my bike sat, dirty, a little out of tune and certainly neglected for over a week; nine days, in fact.  Sure, I was a little busy, even out of town for three days.  But really, I just didn’t want to ride, not at all.  The mere thought of going for a spin made my leg muscles cringe and my head ache.  Not sure if any of you ever get that feeling, but about twice a year, I just want time away from the bike.  And honestly, I think it is a good thing to take time off, to do something else with one’s time, to recharge.

After a nine day hiatus, however, I needed a ride.  Not wanted; not felt it was a good idea; not a sense of obligation to get back on the bike.  Nope, my sanity and personal well being demanded I get out and spin the legs for a couple hours.  So, Wednesday late afternoon, I threw some lube on Isabelle’s chain, filled my water bottles, put on my TPWD jersey and set out for a ninety minute ride on the local trails.  It was perfect, just what I needed to get myself back on the bike.

I felt strong and confident as I climbed that dirt road for 45mins.  Sitting at the top of the climb in the woods where the 45min descent would begin, I sat cross-legged in the dirt and tried to meditate for five minutes, calming my brain and absorbing the world around me.  Then, it was go time!  Down down down–well, there is always another climb–I flew along the Cottonwood trail.  I felt smooth and fast, riding the rocky obstacles with ease, even clearing one section I always walk.  I was swoopy and graceful, powerful and strong; the dragonfly flew down, up, over, around and through those trails with the greatest of ease.  Yup, I was back on the bike, back where I belong and loving it.

With just four weeks till the Vapor Trail 125–holy crap, FOUR WEEKS!–I felt the urge to go for a long road ride Saturday morning.  Although, I didn’t want to work all that hard.  So, I looked at the map and sorted out my route.  I would head south-west out of Salida crossing up, over and down Poncha Pass(elevation 9010′) then make my way south along the very flat highway #285 to the tiny farming community of Center.  As I rolled into town, I got the feeling there wasn’t much here for a hungry cyclist.  Spying a cop-car idling in a commercial building’s parking lot, I rolled up for some advice.  Waking him from a little nap, the young constable was pleasant and happy to provide some insight.  “Uhmmm, no, no-where to get coffee….except the gas station.”  Thanking him for his help, I retraced my route a few yards to explore all the tasty treats they had to offer a hungry man in lycra.

Selecting from the a la carte menu a meal of tasteless yet highly processed pizza and terrible black coffee, I retired to the dining room to enjoy my mid-day repas.  Yup, I sat on the dirty concrete slab outside the gas station as cars pulled in and out, their drivers clearly perplexed; here I was, dining without a jacket or tie.  The nerve.

Heading east along #112 to Hooper, I turned north on highway 17 towards Villa Grove and the coffee shop I had visited many hours earlier, completing the bulb off this tear-drop shaped loop.  Rejoining highway #285 I climbed against a strong gusting head-wind over Poncha Pass, cruising down-hill and back to Salida.  It was perfect; many long, flat, easy miles book-ended between a not-so-demanding climb with little towns perfectly interspersed allowing me to refill my bottles.
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147 miles in just over 10hrs 15mins.  It felt so good to be back on the bike after those nine days off.  I’m betting in fact, it was because of those nine days off.  So, do yourself a favour every once in a while.  Change your routine, get off the bike and do something new.  When you return to your familiar life, you will be surprised at just how wonderful it feels to be back home.

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