On our way into Richmond, Va., Shelagh and I experience hills for the first time on our trip. Really. We had many trips up and down bridges before Richmond but as we aproached the Morgan Hill battlefield we climbed our first hill. Sounds strange I know. Before we travelled we were asked many times about out training plans. Probem was neither of us like to do the various indoor exercizers so a couple of hours on a training bike per week was about the total training for the trip. We would explain that as far as we could tell and had read there were no real hills until Richmnond, almost 2/3 of the way into the trip. For the most part, everyone would look at us like we were kidding ourselves and the lack of training would be a big problem. But truth is, no hills until Richmond.
So how did we react to our first hills? Like we had run into old friends. We bike in Vermont, we do hills, hills are us. There was such a strong sense of belonging once we started doing some climbing. Like being back home.
Not trying to be Polyanna. I know that many want the bicycle experience to be somewhere between flat and a ski lift ride. But at home, for us, it is not. And we look forward to home. We have been trying to pedal there for a long time. Hills bring us closer.