Hill-Climbing Lesson #2

The Chilly Hilly is coming up sometime in the next few weeks, but I'm not going to attempt it this year.  For one thing, last year I actually rented a car, hit the freeway to Seattle at 5:30am, drove ninety miles, and waited in line for more than an hour for the ferry to Bainbridge Island.  For a 33-mile bike-ride.  Silly.

Besides, last year I'd had a year of a double-dose of hill-climbing on my commute.  In January of 2009 my job moved north to Slater Road, three miles farther away.  Instead of turning off to Maplewood Ave., I continued up Northwest Avenue, under I-5, across W. Bakerview, continuing on to Slater Rd., where I turned left off Northwest, crossed the overpass above I-5, and arrived at work just past Rural Ave., making an eight mile ride.

In the morning there was a hill-climb of about .7 miles on Northwest Ave., beginning roughly at Shuksan Middle School to the hilltop just before W. Bakerview.  On the other side of Bakerview there is a long, straight down-slope with a nice, wide bike lane where I could put my head down and race (as much as possible on a hybrid) for just under a mile; then two small rollers on Slater Rd. before crossing the freeway.  Going home I had a gradual climb of a bit less than a mile from Cornwall Church to W. Bakerview, then a downhill stretch under the freeway and back in to town.  But there is a freeway interchange, several intersections, commuter and bus traffic along this stretch of Northwest so it's not a good idea to race too fast unless you're fearless about competing with cars.

With this longer commute, I was riding eighty miles a week and had hill climbs morning and evening, five days a week.  Plus, last year we had a spell of warm, sunny weather in January, so I was getting out for 25-35 mile hill-climbing rides on the weekends.  The Chilly Hilly is rumored to be a pre-spring test-ride for old farts - that explains the hot cider, chili feed and flatulence jokes (helps to make it up the hills, but stay down on the lower deck on the ferry ride home . . . . ).  But I was ready for it.

This year I'm not.