I’d discovered the night before that the first 100km of the road I’d intended to ride the first day had several closures from weather and repair and opted to hop a bus into Dujiangyan.
I didn’t mind. The closer you get to the city, the harder it is to find the heart to ride. The traffic, the congestion, the construction, the noise and dust and dirt. It was still raining and I was looking forward to a wet wrap up to my short tour and wanted to minimize the bummer feelings.
Arriving at the station I discovered my rear tire had a slow leak. I felt the same. The city already seemed to be sucking it out of me. With a quick pump I was back on the road.
I hammered it for the first 30km. I put everything into it, pushing my heavy-ass loaded bike toward home. The mountains behind me, I’d drank from their spring. They’ll be there for me when I need my next adventure. The Climb will greet me in my waking dreams of winding upwards and upwards. On and off the bike there will always be The Climb.