I’ve been dreading this, and putting it off, for a couple days now. The KTR ’08, which was to be the culmination and triumph of my season, was a decidedly mixed bag. Plenty of success, plenty of failure.

And I’m still learning to deal with failure.

The Lenz at rest this afternoon.

I wanted to ride it in less than 16 hours. Not in the cards. I’m stronger and wiser this year, but not that much. If Chris can’t do it, there’s no way that I’m going to, all technological aids included. Perhaps I knew this last week, which gave rise to the pledge nonsense. A way to distract from my fear and dis-ease with absurdity. (It remains a worthy goal, for a future level, not yet achieved.) Deep in the night on Saturday, I knew I wanted to ride the route straight up. It was that with which I had my obsession, my unfinished business.

So, the question becomes: did I try as hard as I could? I imagine not. It’s a complex question, after all. I came into rock climbing (and serious outdoor pursuits, indeed serious anything) thinking that trying hard was secondary to strength and ability. Soon I realized it wasn’t so simple, after a while that the order may well be reversed, and eventually decided that there was little meaningful distinction to be had at all. So, I’m not sure. I suspect not.

I had less than a hundred miles on a geared bike since late March, and that lack of specificity slowed me plenty on the big, nicely surfaced climbs. I ran short on water in Rabbit Valley, which slowed the climb up to Salt Creek a bit and the riding after massively. I rode with Fred and Geoff because it was fun, though in the end this was likely a benefit, causing me to push a few times to keep from getting dropped (those guys are strong!). I should have made more of a point to get down south in the last month and ride in the heat.

My food supply was ideal, my gear exactly what I needed, and I carried exactly enough water to make it to Cottonwood. I paced well, ate well, did some excellent and efficient riding all day. The bike was totally perfect. My hands and feet felt 100% the next day. My butt was sore, perhaps that test ride saddle isn’t all it could be. My legs were roasted, climbing Prime Cut was pretty damn hard on Sunday, and I almost stayed back at the car rather than climb the road to do Kessell Run again. So, I was pretty tapped out.

I might have been able to shave some minutes in places, but overall it was a damn good ride. I’m happy. Content? Not entirely.

Part of me wanted a reason to put this cycling thing to rest, at least temporarily, like I have climbing and canyoneering before. Alas, I’ve found something that suits me too well. Just like a good relationship, indeed a marriage, the more rewarding and meaningful must needs lead to the more convoluted and mysterious, indeed, dark. Moments or extraordinary clarity, for all their increased brilliance, may well become correspondingly rare.

This may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. (Didn’t I say this last year?)