459 Express Hill n Kill

Our group of 6 is 80 miles into the ride and all we need to finish is the Big Timber climb. Mike has just pulled off the front after a monster long pull, and I take over cruising us to the start of the climb. The group is lined up nicely behind me and Larry 'billy goat' climber is my wheel man. I get us onto the initial ramp of the climb, and set into our pace. I ask expectantly if Larry wants to lead this climb. Larry is in my ear doling out the compliments...

    "you're doing great Paul, keep us going"... ( oops, not the answer I was hoping for )
          --- my pulse is 165 and I'm looking at 4 minutes of work ----

         "you're looking good Paul"... ( nobody looks better than Larry in his kit-de-jour )
                --- I'm holding the effort even, shifting gears to match the changing gradient ---

                "wow Paul, you should be in the Tour!" ( larry REALLY doesn't want to lead this one )
                     --- pulse is flicking over 170, gotta ease back just a wee bit ---

            "wiggens could have used you in the mountains" ( larry is a sick bastard that likes to watch people suffer on climbs )


          --- pulse came down to 168, this is surviable. . . . .. jeez I'm pouring out sweat like a soaker hose ---

        "hey, how ya doing up there paul? ( oh the compassion... he's just worried about explaining my demise to my wife )
    --- I got this, just another minute and I'll have this climb knocked off ---

"alright, I'm coming up to help"


What? He's pulling the plug on ME? the nerve! But, I don't have a brain cell or leg synapse to argue. There goes Larry.... there goes Mike... there goes Ron... no way I'm catching those wheels.

John pulls alongside, offers to pace me the last bit. JOHN! the new captains favorite. He matches my pace, and he gets me to the top.

John is now the captains pet.
Larry the climber, is now Larry the domestique water boy. And I am REALLY thirsty.


Good fun!