Saturday and Monday provided a dry sunny sandwich around a chilly wet Sunday. Thirty gritty highway miles took us to the climb. Up hauntingly beautiful country roads, winding and hard-packed dirty. To a place called Dixie Mountain.
There were lots of signs reading "watch for ice". I imagine these hinged signs are flipped over to say "watch for rainbows" on rainy sunny days. Or "watch for gnomes" during early morning mists.
No signs to announce our arrival at the top, but lots of birds. And apple trees, which make someone I know happy. And a surreal moment when a bright white horizon appeared close enough to touch.
After the hard part was done, the other hard part began. Climbing Skyline forever. Riders going the other way shouted my name, putting wings on my feet.
Finally, screaming down Cornell, my rear tire slipped a little and I blew a kiss at Death. Shivering over beer completed the day. One I hope to repeat again and again.