Fargo Rhymes With Whoa

I gotta admit, I’m just not all that fired up at this late date. I know: just as I did in 2006 following my first failed attempt, I totally vowed after last year’s disappointment to bring my chapped hide and bruised ego back to the base of Fargo Street and make my third attempt the charm, but only a few days from the L.A. Wheelmen’s annual Fargo Street Hill Climb Sunday… I’m just. not. feeling. it.

1930a.jpgOr maybe I’m just too chicken psyched out already. Certainly from past experience it’s no trouble envisioning me straddling my bike at the bottom of the ridiculous 32-33% grade of the street and staring waaaaay up up up at the top of the narrow road. Just the thought of it elevates my heart rate. Hell, just looking at that picture of Fargo at right taken in 1930 (click it for larger size) makes me bust out in a a bit of the cold sweaties. Factor in the crowd of other participants and spectators and that adds a whole additional layer of anxiety.

In 2006 I tried it twice on my mountain bike, both attempts unsuccessful. In 2007 I dropped the drop bars of my road bike as low down as they would go and couldn’t summit with it either on two attempts.

Whether I get mad enough or brave enough or both by Sunday morning remains to be seen. If in the interim my disposition changes then  I’m going to get there way before the crowds and either succeed or fail quick. No waiting around. No staring scared at the frozen slope. Just sign up, get my number and go for it.
But by no means, don’t mistake my lack of enthusiasm for surrender. If not this weekend, then  I have no doubt there will be others this year where on an early Saturday or Sunday morning I’ll be found at the base of the bastard — just me and the mountain. And I’ll keep coming back until I best it.