Riding hard on the roads of Kona, I thought that much suffering had come before us. That the training we were doing was nothing compared to the champions who had left it all on the road in the cycling leg of the Ironman.
Riding in wind like that reminded me of the Tri-Cities, where I learned to ride and race. It envelopes you, like riding in sand (or snow) – you can’t do much more than spin and at times were were going about 12 mph. Riding back towards town, with a tailwind, we’d hit 28 without pedaling. I’m sure tales are told on the group rides and in the bike shop about the suffering out and flying back.
The road rolls with 6-ft shoulders, no major climbs, but you’ll find yourself wondering why you’re going so slow, until you turn around. That might give you some time to read all the lava lettering.
I haven’t ridden across a lava field before, with the beach, palm trees, and a snow-covered volcano in the distance. It was visually striking and a reminder that we were riding on a Big Island.
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