This morning, more than ever, I had hoped that during the winter, Mile Marker 18 up AF Canyon had fallen down or had somehow gone missing.
If you've ever ridden AF Canyon with the group, you already know the significance of Mile Marker 18.
To my disappointment, it is still there. That little green sign in the bushes.
I didn't have the legs today. Maybe it was from being sick. Or maybe it was from lugging my 10 lb messenger bag (and I even packed flip flops instead of normal shoes to save weight) up the 11 mile climb. But I think it was probably from trying to keep Jon's wheel all morning long.
He was on fire. At one point, I had to publicly ackowledge that he was (at least for the day) the Alpha Male of the group. I thought if we awarded him his prize verbally, he would back down the pace a little but he didn't. It got worse.
As we passed Mile Marker 18, you could hear the clicking of the shifting gears. And just like that, Sam flicked it over to the big ring and stood up. I shifted, stood, and then quickly sat back down and watched as Steve and Sam battled it out.
The summit sprint up AF is the working, family man's equivalent of taking a Stage win at the Giro or Tour and is almost as important as the sprint to the Guard Station at the base of AF.
In retrospect, I should have known it would have been Steve that would take it. Have you seen those calves? Holy crap.
At the top, Sam, Jon, Mark, and Steve would turn around and ride back down the North side, while Aaron and I dropped the South side, passed Sundance, into Provo Canyon, down, and into work.
Once at work, for $0.65, I was able to purchase the following recovery food and make my 9am meeting (with 3 minutes to spare).