“I am a hill-smashing diva; I make this stuff look easy!”
That’s what I will proclaim from the mountaintops someday … but not today. Today, I’ll have to settle for being a hill-denting diva-in-training.
In early July 2012, I posted the following entry in TrikkeWorld’s Sweet Spot Annex on Facebook:
Dear massive incline (read: larger-than-average molehill) that I encountered on my ride yesterday, this is to inform you that you officially have my attention. I haven’t had to walk up a hill since I was a baby trikker. And I have NEVER slowed down so much that my front wheel skipped or that I actually started to roll backwards. However, you need to know that I will attack you with extreme prejudice each time I see you, and – someday – I will own you. You have my respect, sir, but know that you will be mine. Not today, not tomorrow, and probably not next month, but you WILL be mine!
I have since lost count of how many attempts I’ve made to conquer this vicious and vengeful mound of dirt, but suffice it to say, my every attempt has ended in sound, decisive defeat. For the first few weeks, this vile hill smirked as I approached. Before long, it began openly scoffing at me. Now it just rolls its eyes and yawns. Demoralizing, yes, but I am wise to its ways. It can rebuff me as often as it likes, but one of these days, I will catch it sleeping and roll gracefully (yet defiantly, mind you) to its peak where I will plant a tiny Trikke-logo flag in honor of those before me whom the hill has devoured and spat out.
Seriously, y’all, this little hill frustrates the stuffing out of me. I can make it – without stopping – up a half-mile climb with a gradual altitude gain of roughly 30 feet on a four-foot cement path. I can climb a rise on a residential street that is about 50 feet long and has an altitude gain of about six or seven feet. But this “massive incline” (a three-foot-wide cement path about 35 feet long with a gain of about seven feet) has me whooped. *falls to her knees, spreads her arms wide, looks to the heavens, and mournfully wails, “Whyyyyyy?”*
I can’t help but wonder if my technique is to blame or if the hill is un-climbable. As I’m pretty sure Gildo Beleski (co-creator of the Trikke) and Fred Welch (Director of Trikke Academy) – both of whom are known far and wide for their hill-smashing prowess – could take this blasted mound in stride and never break a sweat, it has to be my technique.
And to that end, might I beg of you a favor? Would you please take a gander at the short video below (of yours truly climbing a piece of the 50-foot long, six/seven-foot gain hill) and offer any hints for improvement you might have? I’d be forever in your debt.
I WANT this “massive incline”, and I remain dedicated to conquering it and making it mine, mine, aaaall miiiiine! (And on that day I shall celebrate with such fervor and vigor that you, dear reader, will hear my shouts of jubilation wherever on this planet you may be.) Until I own that elusive hill and have earned the right to be a hill-smashing diva, I am proud to be a hill-denting diva-in-training. It’s not where I want to be, but I have worked hard to come this far, and I most certainly will not stop now. That hill is mine – it just doesn’t know it yet.