The West Hills Go On Forever

I do not climb like a cycling god. Rather, I climb like a fat man who needs to spend a little less time with the beer and cheese making, and a little more time in the saddle.

Paul and I met up Thursday after work, and went up Lovejoy to Thompson to Skyline. I remember it from my fitter days as a long hill: painful but not too awful. My God, I used to climb that thing with an 11-23 straight block cassette. Yesterday, I climbed it with a 12-27 cassette — a frickin' frisbee back there, a damn granny gear — and I still had to ice my back and knees when I got home.

On the other hand, I can still suffer with the best of them. I climbed pretty much the whole way, other than that flat section before you get to Thompson, with my heart rate around 181.

I wonder if that's even healthy?

And that long, straight, heart-breaking stretch at the top of Thompson? The one where it gets impossibly steeper? Where a sign says, "Stop in 500 feet" and you think to yourself, "there's no way they didn't measure this wrong"? The part where you can see all the way up to the top and it just NEVER SEEMS TO GET ANY SHORTER?

Yeah, I was at like 186 for that whole thing. I can't believe I didn't throw up.

I'm hoping for a long, flat ride this weekend. Just maybe do the Oregon City ride. Though I need to take the bike over to Bike Gallery to get it tuned. I think the new Fat-Ass Cassette is making the old chain a little cranky and creaky.