_RG_
Forum Supporter
Yes, Heart Attack hill was a good humbling way to start the ride. Keep everyone honest for the next few days...or just go ahead and kill em outright.
Truth is, we had the top in sight but I whimped out.
For anyone who hasn't made the acquaintance of this little piece of real estate...It's a long, steep hill with a "trail" about 2 feet wide. The sides go straight up on the left and drops to the bottom of the world on the right. The "trail" is covered in loose gravel, rocks and baby heads...where it isn't washed out as a gully. It gets steeper as you climb and looks like a series of ski jump ramps, each topped by a few feet of less steep steps. These steps are a real handy place to aim for when you discover the front brake and rear tire won't hold the bike from sliding backwards downhill.
JT had made it up to where I was and hit the same combo of baby heads, gully and incline that downed me. Nothing at all dramatic...just bounce in the wrong direction...choose to live...let up...lose momentum....stall out...lay it over...and pant like Lassy on dexedrine. I had walked up the trail to see what we had above us...more of the same...and steeper. Think I caught a glimpse of Beelzebub up there chuckling on a stump...could have been those green chilies still working on me. Going down to help him get his bike righted and going again was a challenge on foot. We were pushing and spinning the tire but not moving an inch. I was behind his bike getting a solid dirt shower when I looked down to see his rear tire buried to the sprocket. All this on an incline that made just standing feel like a hard night on cheap tequila and bad tacos. Think greased marbles on an escalator with a @***! motorcycle constantly pushing backwards real hard. Oh, and blinding-choking dust too.
Could we have gutted it out and made it happen? Sure. These three chaps are as fine a riding mates as you'll ever find and we were helping each other with a robotic automation as if there were no other way things should be done. Call it the code of the west or whatever...
I was out of juice. Whipped and winded. JT was determined to keep trying until I threw the "no fun" flag. And, it took some whining on my part to convince him.
Next challenge was how the heck to turn a bike around in this stuff without rolling down this hill like a suicidal pinball tumble weed. We got his bike pointed downhill by holding the back, leaning it uphill and rocking the bars left and right...letting gravity have its way with the front. Just getting back on the bike while exhausted and balancing over the abyss with the thing trying to slide down is a whole nuther story. JT took off toward Mototex and Sam. Once moving downhill, there is no stopping. It's really just a controlled slide most of the way. Lock up the rear and it starts coming around to race with the front. Use the front brake too much and some really awful things can happen. Hit a step...grab some brakes. Down the ramp...try to stay in control while getting away with what little brake you could. Soon as that back starts sliding forward...let up and coast...hope to make it to the next step. And, breath.
Well, that's my take on Heart Attack hill during a New Mexico drought. It kicked my scrawny butt and threw dirt in my face. Would I try it again? Need you ask...
Truth is, we had the top in sight but I whimped out.
For anyone who hasn't made the acquaintance of this little piece of real estate...It's a long, steep hill with a "trail" about 2 feet wide. The sides go straight up on the left and drops to the bottom of the world on the right. The "trail" is covered in loose gravel, rocks and baby heads...where it isn't washed out as a gully. It gets steeper as you climb and looks like a series of ski jump ramps, each topped by a few feet of less steep steps. These steps are a real handy place to aim for when you discover the front brake and rear tire won't hold the bike from sliding backwards downhill.
JT had made it up to where I was and hit the same combo of baby heads, gully and incline that downed me. Nothing at all dramatic...just bounce in the wrong direction...choose to live...let up...lose momentum....stall out...lay it over...and pant like Lassy on dexedrine. I had walked up the trail to see what we had above us...more of the same...and steeper. Think I caught a glimpse of Beelzebub up there chuckling on a stump...could have been those green chilies still working on me. Going down to help him get his bike righted and going again was a challenge on foot. We were pushing and spinning the tire but not moving an inch. I was behind his bike getting a solid dirt shower when I looked down to see his rear tire buried to the sprocket. All this on an incline that made just standing feel like a hard night on cheap tequila and bad tacos. Think greased marbles on an escalator with a @***! motorcycle constantly pushing backwards real hard. Oh, and blinding-choking dust too.
Could we have gutted it out and made it happen? Sure. These three chaps are as fine a riding mates as you'll ever find and we were helping each other with a robotic automation as if there were no other way things should be done. Call it the code of the west or whatever...
I was out of juice. Whipped and winded. JT was determined to keep trying until I threw the "no fun" flag. And, it took some whining on my part to convince him.
Next challenge was how the heck to turn a bike around in this stuff without rolling down this hill like a suicidal pinball tumble weed. We got his bike pointed downhill by holding the back, leaning it uphill and rocking the bars left and right...letting gravity have its way with the front. Just getting back on the bike while exhausted and balancing over the abyss with the thing trying to slide down is a whole nuther story. JT took off toward Mototex and Sam. Once moving downhill, there is no stopping. It's really just a controlled slide most of the way. Lock up the rear and it starts coming around to race with the front. Use the front brake too much and some really awful things can happen. Hit a step...grab some brakes. Down the ramp...try to stay in control while getting away with what little brake you could. Soon as that back starts sliding forward...let up and coast...hope to make it to the next step. And, breath.
Well, that's my take on Heart Attack hill during a New Mexico drought. It kicked my scrawny butt and threw dirt in my face. Would I try it again? Need you ask...