I learned that Kelly’s routes are short yet surprisingly tough and maybe that’s because gravel is deceptively challenging. You wouldn’t think riding 45 miles on dirt would be difficult. You wouldn’t think it’d feel like you actually rode 70. You wouldn’t think your hands would be covered in blisters and your watch would cut into your wrist either. But I also think that gravel is more about the adventure and less about “sending it” or getting gainz.
I’ve always loved the “sleepy bike” photos other gravel riders have posted before on social media. As we rode up (because yes, it was a false flat) the washboard road, I saw the best setting for my own sleepy bike. Brittney and Kelly caught up and I explained to them what I was doing. We decided to stack our bikes (gently) and called it an “orgy sleepy bike.”
This ride started fairly tame and I was excited for an easier route. There was a combination of road and dirt which made the dirt more bearable. And we lucked out with less washboard (at least at the beginning).
The great thing about gravel is fewer cars and at least in Westcliffe, when cars pass, they give at least 10 feet when passing. It’s nothing like riding in Littleton. Not once did I fear for my life when I heard or saw a car approaching.
We were about halfway through our ride when we happened upon a sign that warned of a rough road ahead. I mean, the whole weekend my most-used phrase was, “I should have brought my mountain bike.” How much worse could the road possibly get? Well…. If I had my mountain bike, it wouldn’t have been all that rough and I wouldn’t have reached my step goal.
We walked maybe a quarter-mile? Maybe a half-mile? As we entered the parking lot to a trail, a pack of bros stared at me. Finally, one of them said, “Can you bike that road?” I looked at him and said, “No.” Then I said, “You can with a mountain bike no problem.” He looked at my “gravel” bike. Then I said, “This is a gravel bike.” He continued to stare as we pedaled out of the parking lot.
Then we hit our first substantial downhill. I realized over the weekend I don’t care for downhills on my “gravel” bike. The brakes require an exceptionally strong grasp and it ended up tiring my hands out. They actually got pretty sore which is super lame, especially when downhill is usually the best part.
We passed by a field of yellow flowers. They weren’t sunflowers and I’m not a botanist, so I have no idea what they were. We took a minute to have a snack, I snapped a photo of Brittney and Kelly, and we learned that Kelly’s bike felt like riding a couch. Brittney gave it a test ride and agreed, it did feel very couch-like. I’m too short to even give it a try. It’s probably for the best because I knew I’d have bike envy.
If I learned anything from the weekend it was that a proper bike makes all the difference. Sure, you can buy shitty bikes but the ride will also feel like it. So, after I upgrade my road bike, then I’ll be upgrading the “gravel” bike so I no longer have to put quotes around it.
As frustrating as it was to ride a bike that is suitable as a commuter bike on flat roads, it was such a great time getting away from the house that I haven’t really left since the start of this epidemic. And the company was fantastic. I mean, I stayed up way past my bedtime to chat with Kelly and Brittney and got to talk to people who weren’t my immediate family.
Gravel riding was the perfect way to slow down and test myself in a new environment. Slowing down meant getting more pictures and taking in the scenery, chatting with two awesome women, and not feeling like I had to hit certain power numbers. It was stress-free and exactly what I needed.
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