Tucked unassumingly in a canyon filled with pine and oak, and ranches with horses, wild turkeys and cattle, lies Kincaid, a less traveled road of rolling hills with steep pitches, and seemingly forgotten by time.
After 2 hours of climbing Mt. Hamilton, on a day of an unseasonable warm spell, I turned onto Kincaid, and was soon joined by my friends S&P. Lookey below, it's The Boyfriend, leaving us. Doing this treasure of a climb fired up his juices.
With Kincaid done, P and I still had another 5 or so miles of climbing before reaching the summit. P shot ahead of me. I slowed considerably and the gusty winds didn't help either -- scary enough that I got off the bike and walked a bit. I made it to the top only because I was inspired by P ahead of me.
The changing light and position of the sun confirmed just how slow I was going down the mountain. As in 6 hrs later (my finishing time). I was not a damsel in distress just a slow rider aware that I was no match for the windy conditions. Alas, with 8 miles left to go to reach the bottom, who should appear before me -- a knight in shining armor, oh alrighty, a gallant cyclist, in sweaty shiny spandex (otherwise known as The Boyfriend) coming to fetch his fair maiden.
Me: Have you come to rescue me?
He: No, I've come to claim my booty.
Me: [ignoring him] Were you worried that I might be stranded atop the mountain?
He: No, I assumed you were delayed by your usual shameless flirtatious behavior.
Me: Well, there were these two gray haired good looking motorcyclists ...
He: Get in the car.
Me: Aren't you going to hoist me over your shoulder first and drag me kicking & screaming?
He: That and more.
Me: You cut a gallant figure on your white horse taking me off the treacherous mountain.
He: Next you'll be wanting me to slay a dragon.
Me: The thought crossed my mind. You're my dashing valiant hero.
He: You got that right, Missy.
Just the Stats:
7 mph avg
27 mph descent
20-40 mph gusty winds
6965 ft of climbing