There I was at Shawnee Mission Lake luxuriating in the beauty, the speed and the accomplishment of getting here. I rested. I continued around the lake and started up the hill on the other side of the lake. Oh my. This is awful. This little hill just keeps on going, up and up and up. This was in the time before communication other than a phone at home attached to a wall plug in. I was trapped in the park. I peddled. I got off and walked. I peddled. I got off and walked. Several lifetimes later, I made it back to the park entrance. Lordy! Thank goodness no more hills were between me and home. I made it and I was a tired piece of biking software! I was humbled but not beaten.
Two or so days later, I resumed the quest for bike adventure. I biked to the park, turned right and sailed down the short steep hill to the lake. I rested. This time, I took the same road back. The other half of the road around the park was longer and one continuous long uphill climb. My return up the same side road did have a steep part, but it was mercifully short. In time, I got so I could bike up the short steep hill in gear twenty one. Why don’t those big inventors come up with a thirty one speed bike? I was complaining about hills to my spouse and his suggestion was to buy a little motor that would make my bike wheels turn forward. Oh wouldn’t that have been fun! Men and their machines are so predictable…put a motor on it and go faster / further.
I discovered a bike trail at the park. It started out with a nearly 90% steep hill. I always had to walk up that short little steep hill and then I was on the beautiful bike trail. Oh the happiness. I loved that trail. I biked to the park. Went nearly 100 mph corvette speed down that initial hill on the road. The road took me straight to the trail and off I went to the end and returned and then biked my way out of the park and home.
I had developed a training pattern. I was developing a few more tight spots (muscles) on my thighs and calves. In the meantime, I ventured to the lucky bike store time and time again. I bought a speedometer and a rear view mirror.
Weekends at Shawnee Mission Park were busy. Many cars came to Shawnee Mission Park on the weekend as did I riding my flashy yellow bike. I did notice that signs were posted on the weekend to make the park road into a one way road. Cars were to travel around the park. They couldn’t coast down the hill, enjoy the lake and return the same way. They had to motor around the entire park. I heard no cars complaining about the steep hill return trip.
One weekend day, I was struggling to get out of the park up the short steep hill. I hit a flat place and sped up a bit. I saw a Park Police car coming towards me. Suddenly the car leaped over to my side of the road and put on the siren. Good Lord! The police car was aimed right at me! It was screaming “siren” and headed right at me! My brain screamed as I tried to get off the bike. Sadly, I forgot to put on the brakes. I stepped off the moving bike and crashed to the ground. I struggled up, looking at blood streaming down my leg. I grabbed a leaf and tried to staunch the blood. Both park policement were out of the car. They were talking to me while I was struggling to stop the tiny spurt of blood.
“This is a one way road and you are going the wrong way!” I looked at them. I said, “I can’t ride out of the park on the other side of the park. it’s too steep.” There was absolutely no sign of understanding or pity in either park police face. It did occur to me then that I could walk out of the park on the short side. I mumbled my apology, picked up my bike and started hiking. The park police car went on its way and I heard the sound of park police laughter behind me.
Oh My GOD! They laughed at me. They were laughing at me!