#it was stick shift and would actually stall and could roll down a steep hill

[fungusqueen]

driving up and down, and especially parking on really steep hills makes me want to throw up, like i'm filled with so much dread. i had to drive up and down a steep hill yesterday to access a parking garage and clearly, i survived, but i didn't like it. i'm making plans for tomorrow that also may or may not involve parking on steep hills so I'm literally trying to find alternative solutions and parking options. I do not believe any human can enjoy driving on or parking on super steep hills, something about it is so unnatural

[biketrash]

From Hike to Bike

 Clink, clink, clink, the sound of something caught in the wheel. Every rotation slaps the offending object against the bike’s frame. Had we been on a trail, I would have suspected a stick had gotten entangled in the spokes. We were however on asphalt. I never saw a stick. There was no stick to see. Marde and I had left the house a couple of hours ago to meet up with some friends and ride the Mineola Nature Preserve. With only a couple of the thirty plus miles left to go, Marde and I were staring at a broken rear hub. Free from their bondage, two spokes flailed about as if celebrating their moment of liberation. A roll of electrical tape would help me squash this fledgling rebellion. A Band-Aid fix at best. While I was able to tape loose spoke to tight spoke and end the flopping, I couldn’t actually fix the hub. Not even duct tape could have fixed this hub. Two other spokes were also loose due to the hub’s inability to hold them taught. Minus the support of four spokes on the rear wheel, we limped the rest of the way in.

Something is amiss(ing)

 We find the gang hanging out in the nature preserve’s parking lot. Our mechanical cost us a sure victory in this (non race) race. Among several familiar riders, are two newcomers. Mike and his daughter Hailey are veteran hikers. Multi-day hikes across rough terrain is a common occurrence for these two. Donald, Amanda, and myself had convinced Mike to switch stepping with pedaling for a change of pace. He agreed and convinced Hailey to join us as well. Limping on a busted wheel, Marde and I should forgo any further riding and wait for the group to get back and give us a lift home. That’s what we should do. Skipping a chance to ride however, isn’t something we can stomach.

Hailey is ready to get the show on the road

    The gaggle of weekend cyclists head up the paved path that will lead us to the preserves’ main corridor, a defunked railroads’ graded right-of-way. Once a busy thoroughfare of freight and commerce for Mineola, it now serves as a gateway for people wanting to see nature up close. It’s also a good place to assess how much riding a couple of first time riders can handle before introducing them to more punishing involved rides. Hailey wastes no time heading to the front of the pack. She and Briona, along with the two younger boys and the dog, leave us adults to find our own way.

Mike trying something new

 The crushed gravel crackles under our wheels. Under overcast skies, the adults of the group work on pacing back up to the energy filled breakaway. The jackrabbits stop at an old iron trestle bridge. Us turtles catch them here. Brock and Landon are already below the bridge looking for ways in which to get covered in dirt. These two young boys excel at finding their size in the latest Earth made apparel. A herder by nature, our dog “Momma” is having difficulty with the boys not being closer to the rest of us. Whining is her preferred choice of communication as she runs back and forth between us and the boys. She finally calms down when we call the boys back to their bikes. We have more trail to ride!

My stoker!

 Briona and Hailey again waste no time dropping the main group. Seeing them escaping the herd, Momma starts to launch herself to reel them back in. Her task is put on immediate hold as I grasp her collar. A family approaches with two dogs of their own. Their dogs appear nice enough, but I’ll take no chances with Momma not leashed. As they pass, it is obvious the pitbull would like to take us down with never ending licking. Their other dog is a mix I don’t recognize. It isn’t as happy to see us. It seems we make it nervous. As soon as they pass I release Momma. Like a bullet fired from a rifle, Momma shoots down the trail to catch the departed two from her flock.  

Come hike or bike, Hailey can do it

 The trail ends at the Sabine river. Here two iron bridge supports and a wooden bent are all that remain of the International and Great Northern railway’s river crossing. Built before the Titanic ever sailed, these metal pylons are held together with massive rivets, much like the ship. The bridge was removed long ago. Today the pylons only support the trees that have taken root on top of them. 

Dirt and a dog. Heaven for boys

 We spend a lot of time here at the end of the line. Recent rains have made this place a mud laced sanctuary for the boys. “Brock” I announce in a stern voice “DON’T get your shoes wet.” I know his shoes will be getting wet. He’s 13 and there is a river beside us. I was 13 once. I’m aware of the temptation. Still, I had to try and save his shoes from a watery grave.

Momma accepts any and all attention

 It doesn’t take long for the conversation to turn to hiking. Donald and Amanda have hiked with Mike before. The three of them share the adventure as they reminisce. Hailey joins in, talking about hikes she’s shared with her dad. Although it sounds quite pedestrian, I am intrigued. A bicycle may not be involved, but it’s still adventurous. Adventure in and of itself interests me. Maybe, just maybe, one day Mike will get me to swap pedaling for stepping.  Returning back towards our trip’s point of origin, Marde and I find ourselves ahead of Briona and Hailey. An unusual circumstance soon to be corrected.

Loose gravel wins this round

 With Hailey on our back wheel, I miss a shift up a short steep hill. A part of the main trail that leaves the berm to circumvent a missing bridge. My error stalls out the tandem. In domino fashion, our action transfers the same action to Hailey and she stalls as well. She has been introduced to hike-a-bike (if only for a few steps). Marde and I hang around to see how the others fair. Mike is up first. A soft patch of gravel grabs and twists his front wheel. It’s enough to rob his momentum and force the experienced hiker to push his bike up the hill. Landon comes next with his parents not far behind. Like the rest of us, Landon has chosen his gear poorly. A stop is inevitable. With his feet on the ground, Landon hesitates. On a fast approaching tandem, Donald swings to go left around Landon. Landon suddenly realizes he needs to clear the trail. 

Watching others suffer our same fate

Unfortunately for Donald and Amanda, Landon scoots left. Donald grabbes two handfuls of brakes, ending their bid to climb a seemingly undaunting hill thats has stopped everyone so far. Could they have made it? We may never know.

Brock would follow his mom anywhere

Unless his mom was slow. Then, he’d go with his sister

Team Geezers is swiftly climbing the hill back towards the parking lot. The Hailey/Briona alliance has been set up to be caught just before the finishing line. A sprint finish is in order. Seeing us close in, the girls launch with one final push for the line. Having already crested the hill, gravity is their ally. Our efforts are rewarded as Haley isn’t familiar with the bike’s gearing and slows. She and Briona swap bikes, but it’s too late. Marde and I fly by for the non win of the non race. Any day you are riding is a day you are winning, so the girls never lost. As we are loading the bikes, Mike mentions he and Hailey would love to do this again. That, my friends is a win.

Winning