Everybody has a mountain. You know, something that they feel like they need to conquer. I try and set up my mountains one at a time. Today I was able to actually climb one. This personal Mount Everest was a place called Pixley Knob. On several rides around southern Indiana in the past, I had not been able to climb Pixley without bailing out after about 50 feet or so. I made no excuses every time I failed. I just wasn’t ready. For me, Pixley Knob represented a threshold I needed to cross before I could feel confident on a bike. Some cyclists just fly right up it. It was just more of a challenge for me. A scary little piece of real estate that stood in the way of my feeling like I could really ride.
Well, today, the Bling climbed it without walking. My friend Linda said that my nickname should be Bling because of the cross I wear whenever I ride. I am not sure the nickname will stick, but as I prepared to climb Pixley, I decided I needed to do it right and plant a “flag” once I made it to the top. And I thought it appropriate to put my current designated nickname on it.
In order to make this work, I had to build up to it. I consulted folks who had been up it successfully. I drove up it in a car, remembering how it was to give up and walk it in the past. I ensured I had several miles of riding behind me this season before I attempted it (1,000 +). I rode up to it a few weeks ago, to once more get an “up close and personal” feel about it. Finally, I developed a strategy on how I was going to take the hill, what gear I would be in, when I would stand (I would start out sitting), when I would sit back down, how I would breathe, what day of the week to attempt it, and what time of day to best do it without traffic. And then I decided: I was ready.
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| Google Earth doesn’t really do the place justice, but it is fun to play with. |
I planned for the best day of weather I could in the upcoming week, took that day off of work, drove to a place about six miles out, and began my ride out to the hill, determined that I was not going to quit. As I rode, I was trying to push any potential negative thoughts out of my head, like…the headwinds, will they slow me down? Will I bail again this time? What if a car comes up behind me just as I start up the hill? (It did.) That kind of stuff. All those thoughts just needed to go. So, as I pedaled, I just looked around and let my mind take in the visuals around me. The late summer corn was blowing in the breeze, the morning sun was aflame with goodness, a gorgeous blue heron took off over a lake, a pileated woodpecker said Hi to me as he flew overhead. All of it served to take my mind off the spooky climb that lay in wait. Soon, I was at the base of the hill, and I had almost no thoughts of trepidation (well, a few maybe).
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| I might have seen some Buddhist prayer flags at base camp. No, wait–that was just the finery in the Love’s Truck Stop parking lot. |
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| The morning sun beckons a roll back down the hill. |
As I started up it, all the planning and strategy just went bye bye. I had just finished thunking it to the small ring up front, and also had made sure I had one more cog to go in the back. But instead of starting out sitting, I almost immediately stood. And I stood. And I kept standing. Never sat down. I don’t think I ever got into the last cog, and I just stood on the bike and cranked it all the way up. Heart pounding and breathing hard. But soon, I was there. At the top. Done. Mental block gone. It seemed almost anticlimactic. But all mountains do, once you get up ‘em.
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| This is the “flag” I planted on top of Mount Everest Pixley Knob. |