Off the Beaten Path

Of all the events for the triathlon, the one that I'm having the easiest time with is the biking. I actually own a bike after all, and although it was covered in dust and cobwebs because I hadn't ridden it since before my mission, riding a bike has come back to me quite easily. (Only I'd forgotten how much it makes your derriere ache.) So although I am still struggling to swim a few laps and can't yet jog a mile straight, my bike training sessions are up to six miles. Up to about the five mile point I had pretty much stuck to riding around our neighborhood, but at this point, it's starting to mean I have to do laps around the development, and it's getting old.

What to do? Why am I hemming myself into my neighborhood, you ask? After all, the triathlon bike isn't going to be a little jaunt in circles around a tract housing development.

It comes down to this: to venture outside my neighborhood, I have to ride on narrow, two lane roads with no shoulder. Since we live in a relatively rural area, the cars on these roads generally fly by at freeway speeds. {cringe} See, back in ye olde college days, I was hit by a car while riding my bike. Though I got over the trauma (it was all emotional as I wasn't really hurt,) I'm still extremely nervous riding right next to oblivious, speeding drivers who are texting on their cell phones, fiddling with the stereo, and yelling at the kids in the backseat.

This morning I took my only other option. It's a rutted dirt road which occasionally I use as a shortcut while going to church, but I've never really explored.

I never knew I lived in such an identity-challenged area!

There are lots of houses out there on large, horse friendly lots, so I expected to see a lot of dogs and horses. I did, but there were also cows, chickens, and even apparently a goat farm-- dozens of goats! The architecture was a strange mix of back-east country farmhouses, fake adobe southwestern homes, suburban stucco cookie-cutter things, and really run down mobile homes. There were pine trees, the infamous palo verdes, green expanses of grass, and moisture-starved tumbleweeds. There was even a bare expanse of dirt littered with 40 oz beer cans that reminded me of Sanders. I felt like I actually took a little trip out of the Valley.

Unfortunately, this whole ride was a washboard-riddled dirt road. After five miles of it, my brain felt like it had been battered to jelly. Pleasant, no? Plus, though the cars weren't exactly speeding past me, there was still more traffic than I liked. (Hello, Mr. F450! Slow down before you shower me in rocks and dust!)

For the last stretch I retreated to the sidewalk outside our development. However, we haven't had landscapers in awhile now, so the trees lining the street haven't been trimmed. I ended up whacking myself in the face with tree branches every five feet.

Maybe next time I'll risk the regular roads.