The Climb

See the full gallery on Posterous

Pain. Another wave courses through the legs. But more muted this time, the mind beginning to detach from sensations it knows too well. Instead random thoughts tumble past, a hundred thoughts a second.

How long to go? How long's it been? Why do I do this to myself? For triumph? Over what, over who? I haven't seen a living soul nor even a passing car for 30 minutes, maybe 45, or an hour, or maybe days. How long have I been on this climb? 

ALONE.

A glance to the right, the incoherent ramblings of a dehydrated sun baked mind flutter away like blossom in the wind. Have I really climbed that much? The ribbon of black tarmac snakes away far below as the mountains give way to orange groves peppered with white washed villages running out to the coast. Beyond, through the haze, sun sparkles off the sea. Sublime. Calm. Peace. TRANQUILLO! But the climb does not care for such moments, it continues unrelenting.

Switchbacks. Out of the saddle and embrace the pain. An explosion of images flood the mind, brought about by action not location. Mercx, Pantani, Mayo, Armstrong, or short Columbians, or rangy Dutch, all dancing on the pedals around tight hairpins. The beauty in the movement. But I'm no champion and breathlessness comes quickly to put me squarely back in the saddle. But for a moment it was beautiful, body and mind urging the bike upwards in the dance of the climb.

Now still breathing hard the road kicks up one final time. As if in the throes of death it stubbornly rears up, a last attempt to break the weak of mind and tired of leg. But not this time, I've come too far. As the heart quickens the mind races away on tangents again.

"Bridge to engine room, we need more power!"

       "But she can'ee take anymore Captain!"

Just a little.

And then it eases, and it's done. The top. A mental pat on the back and a wave of euphoria washes away the pain. But dehydration drives me on without pause. The sinuous descent unravels ahead. Big ring, drop cogs like machine gun fire. Bullet speed. The road snakes, bank left, shift weight, bank right. I can't contain the grin. Surrounded by mountains, the synergy of speed and control, the exhilaration total. PURE UNADULTERATED HAPPINESS!

The endless descent finally begins to flatten. A village. A restaurant! Never have plastic patio chairs looked so welcoming. "Una caffe con leche y una coca cola por favor, senior". I'm not normally one for sugary drinks but never has a coke tasted so good. Relief. Exhaustion. And as I sit contented, sipping coffee under the bluest of blue skies the thoughts begin again. I suppose I could do the climb again tomorrow. After all, it was beautiful out of the saddle on those switchbacks......

 

Location: Marina Alta Mountains, Costa Blanca, Spain. As a side note I'm thinking of heading back out there in October so if anyone fancies tagging along for a little biking holiday/training camp just drop me an email. The biking is awesome.

Dave.