I’ve ridden across 8 bridges in Portland, including the dreaded St Johns bridge with its steep approach. I’ve ridden a half-century (50 miles for non-bike riders). But nothing is as bad as my 5-mile commute.
Actually the commute to work is not bad. I’ve gotten used to it and can handle the long uphill of Barbur Boulevard well. It’s the commute home that kills. It starts out uphill, the keeps going up up up.
Today was a particularly craptacular commute. My stomach hurt to begin with. Then I fell off my bike at a busy intersection, in front of a bunch of cars, cursing all the way down. I had one foot unclipped, the other clipped in. I didn’t get a good start and fell over to the clipped side.
Amazingly, it was a very soft fall and I didn’t get any scrapes. But my confidence was shook. I felt so sorry for myself I walked the bike up the hill, over the evil Haines Street bridge and onward another mile or so before I finally got back on the bike, clipped in and rode the rest of the way home.