Has Tamara made it up the hill yet?

Some bicycle musings this morning...

I woke up with the cold that Chad and Nimue have had over the last several days. Nose completely plugged up. Blech. Energy-wise, I didn't feel too bad, though, so decided to head over and at least look at Montebello Road, a local evil climb. Plus I wanted to check out a new bike bridge over the freeway that just opened.

Now I know you all are thinking this is going to turn into another story of complete and utter cycling misery, but for once, optimism paid off -- once I got riding and my internal humours started to circulate, my nose and head miraculously cleared up and I started to feel pretty good.

[Insert evil traffic here.] Argh.

Why is it that car drivers consistently act like they fail to see cyclists? Yesterday if was a car that turned right into the street in front of me as I cruised along at 20+ mph, today it was a pair of cars that failed to yield to oncoming traffic (i.e. me) when making their left turns. Fortunately, over the years, I've developed a fair amount of paranoia and assume that all cars will make the worst possible moves at the worst possible times, so can usually navigate around such woes reasonably gracefully. I was reminded of a book I recently picked up at the library, "The Art of Urban Cycling" by Robert Hurst, which is about the best description of the challenges faced and skills needed by those of us who, on two wheels, attempt to share the streets with the combination of clueless/malicious/absentminded/impatient/distracted drivers that exist in populated areas. It's an entertaining and interesting read if you happen to run across it.

Anyway, eventually I made it past the busy spot and over to the new Mary Avenue bike bridge -- a very visually striking suspension bridge that provides a useful pedestrian and bike crossing over 280. Despite the fact that the on/off sections of sidewalk are more designed for peds than bikes (in one direction, the cyclist is spat out on the wrong side of the road, as is often the case with these things), I'd still give it a big thumbs-up, because it's so useful to have another bike-friendly freeway crossing. Plus it just looks cool :)

Over to the hill. Montebello has long been one of my nemesis hills. The first mile and a half averages 9% grade with some sections steeper, then it mellows out for a mile or two -- just long enough to lull one into a false sense of complacency that it isn't really that bad -- and then it gets steeper again for the last 2 miles or so. The first time I rode it, cycling buddies who shall remain nameless gave me a misimpression of where the top was. "When it gets steeper and you see grape vines, you're almost there." Yeah, right. That describes the entire evil last two miles.

But, again, this is not a tale of woe. Over the last couple of years, I've either gotten stronger, broken my mental block, or both, as it now often seems to be a nice invigorating climb with stunning views and few cars, close to home. There were lots of wildflowers today, and even at 9am it was pleasantly warm. My nose stayed clear the whole way up.

So why the question about Tamara?

At about the point where the second steep section of the hill began, Tamara's name was spray-painted on the road. I thought "Hey, that's kind of nice, someone was encouraging their friend up the road. I wonder if there was a race?" A bit later, what looked like a last name followed, and then a bit later "WILL". I kept riding, wondering how many other names would show up -- these things help pass the time on a long climb. However, instead of another name, the next word that followed was "you". Ah, now I got it -- some guy out there with a girlfriend named Tamara is very very cool. (Maybe I just have a soft spot in my heart for on-the-bike-hill marriage proposals.) Now I was motivated to climb hard to see how the question ended, and felt like I was almost rooting for Tamara. Funny. Right at the start of the last little pitch, the rest of the question did indeed follow. The paint looked fresh enough that I'm not sure if the happy couple has done their ride, or if preparations had just been made. I wondered all the way down, especially as I looked at the group of others heading up the hill. I also wonder if Tamara's nameless other also realizes how many smiles were brought to other random cyclists' faces as they climbed that last steeper section of the challenging hill. Pretty cool, I say.