I'm not a billy goat, but I think I saw one

Okay, I'm just going to preface this with saying I ran four miles the night before, and had just ridden 23 miles through Woodside, or Portola or somewhere. I 'm not really for sure. I wasn't paying too much attention. I was just pedalling along, head down, looking at tar blots on the road. Ooh, there's one! Ooh, there's another one! Ooh, that looks like an ice cream cone...mmm, ice cream.

So when Brian said he was going to ride up Montebello I had no idea what I was getting into. He said it was a bit of a climb, but you know, I've ridden some hilly stuff before so I thought "what the heck, I'll give it a go."

Things maybe I knew, but didn't really understand about Montebello before I started. First of all, it's 8 miles of climbing. Every once and awhile it would level off a bit as a tease, but then you were right back to climbing. Secondly, it's 8 miles of climbing. 8 miles. Of climbing. For 8 miles!

I really wanted to make it to the top, if only because after 8 friggin' miles of climbing there must be something soo great at the top. A circus, or foot rubs, or free ice cream cones (mmm, ice cream). Sadly, I didn't find out. I had to turn back after mile 3. HAD to. My legs just refused to go one more pedal stroke up that horrible, awful hill.

Just awful. Really.

I'm going back next week.