Feature
I Love to Ride... Yes I Do... (Even Up Hills)
Starting up a long hill on a bicycle is a lot like leaving the house for a dental appointment. Sure it'll hurt a little, and yes, you'll be glad when it's over. But the worst part of the whole experience is the dread you feel right at this moment.
In front of you: road. When you look up, you don't see the sky, you just see more road. And, worst of all, you can't see the top.
As I head south out of Waitsburg, I turn onto the Middle Waitsburg Road. The sun is shining in a glorious blue sky on an early Sunday morning in the spring. Green blades of wheat are pushing through the muddy fields and not a car is in sight. In front of me is a simple two-lane road with no shoulder. I look up and see more road. The road curves to the left and I can't see the top.
I click the rear derailleur to move the chain to a bigger cog and spin my legs faster to build momentum. The only sound I hear is the clicking of the gear shift and the deap breath I take as I focus my attention on the task at hand. I feel a tinge of regret for having committed to this monster hill, but it's a done deal and I press on.
The Middle Waitsburg road stretches about 20 miles between Walla Walla and Waitsburg. It's one of the most popular cycling routes in the Walla Walla valley. Leaving from Waitsburg, the hill just off Highway 12 is about two miles long. Riders from Walla Walla can easily avoid this killer hill by turning around before they get to Waitsburg. But what a shame that would be.
Columbia and northern Walla Walla Counties are magical places to ride a bike. And they're a well-kept secret. The roads meander through rolling farm land and along winding river banks. From the arid grassland near the Snake River to the thick forests of the Blue Mountain foothills, the environment changes from mile to mile.
Unlike the one I'm on, most of the hills are short and unstressful. Traffic is light and drivers are almost all willing to give cyclists lots of space. Most of the time, you are utterly alone on these roads. The silence is broken only by singing birds and the whisper of bike tires kissing the road.
Within a minute of starting my climb I'm into my lowest gear and my cleated shoes are pulling hard on the pedals. I slide back on my seat and get into a cadence I can maintain as I literally inch my way up the hill, almost in slow motion. I notice a hawk circling over my head, as if taunting me to pick up the pace. I decide to ignore it.
To keep my mind off the pain, I begin thinking about the many other beautiful routes I often ride around here: (And yes, I sometimes think in bullet points while I ride.)
• The North Touchet Road, from Dayton to Bluewood – 22 miles of steady climbing into the beautiful National Forest. Detours along the South Touchet River and Wolf Fork Creek are definitely worth it.
• The Whetstone – the back road north of highway 12 between Dayton and Waitsburg. There are several alternate routes here, such as Thorn Hollow Road, Kellogg Hollow Road and McKay Alto Road.
• The Middle and Lower Waitsburg roads, between Waitsburg and Walla Walla. You will likely encounter other Walla Walla riders along these roads.
• The Patit Road – 16 miles through rolling farmland and spinning wind turbines east of Dayton. It's a beautiful ride, but there's a reason those wind turbines are there. So if you don't like riding in the wind . . .
I've ridden my bike many places in the western U.S. – in cities, along beaches and through mountains. But it's never been better than right here.
More than halfway up the hill, the road curves slightly to the left and I'm already high enough that I can see the Blue Mountains stretching for miles to the south. Thousands of acres of farmland are laid out in patches below me. I'm gasping for air and dripping with sweat, and my legs feel like wet dishrags. But still, this craziness is beginning to make sense. The silence and the view I'm experiencing aren't possible from a car.
Shortly before I reach the top I stop and rest in a wide spot in the road. Below me the town of Waitsburg looks like a toy town. A truck on Highway 12 far below makes a faint rumble as it slows to enter the town. I drink some water and devour my Twix bar. (Yes, the tangible rewards are as essential as the spiritual ones when taking on a climb like this.)
After a short rest, I turn around and in about four minutes I'm back in Waitsburg, covering the same stretch of road it took me twenty minutes to climb.
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