It turns out that deep down inside of me there is this crazy dude who is half human, half mountain goat, half peregrine falcon and 100% freak. He's not very big, maybe 5' 7" and 110 lbs, but he likes going uphill and then flying down. For a flatlander from MN like myself it's a surprising revelation.
Over the past three days I have probably climbed more vertical feet on my bicycle than are in almost all of the routes that I ride in Minnesota combined. My favorite of which was the Rist Canyon ride. If you get the chance to do it ever, it's worth the trip.
The funny thing is that I'm not the skeleton skinny climber like Andy Schleck or Alberto Contador, but it's just rewarding to climb. It doesn't matter if there is anyone with you or if you go fast or slow. Getting to the top is always the same prize every time for every rider regardless of the time it takes. Especially when you start climbing real mountains. It's so much fun! I know it's a bit masochistic, but it's hard to beat the feeling you get when you are at the top of a big hill and can look back at where you've come from.
Or when you get there and can look forward to the ride down...
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