“You will get through this. But be careful. The roads are winding and there’s no shoulder. The journey…it’ll be treacherous.”
These are the words we heard time and time again from fellow road cyclists when we told them we were biking Big Sur.
We know these words of advice came from a good place. But to say we were terrified, is an understatement.
The night before we hit the Big Sur stretch, we rallied around one another, preparing for the war to come, chanting battle cries late into the night.
That following morning, we suited up, called our friends and family to tell them we loved them and hear their voices for what might be the last time, and rolled out at the crack of dawn: 8 A.M.
As we clipped into our bumper-sticker-clad steeds, we held our heads high. One cannot show their fear, for The Sur will sense it, and come for you. We knew this to be true.
But mile five came and left, and we were fine. The same with miles 10, 15, 20 and so on. We were doing it. We were biking Big Sur. As a group, as a stampede of warrior women, we defeated what we thought would be our Everest.
“Expert level” said The American Cyclist Association of The Sur. “HA!,” we say in response! Because with 11 women by your side and a worthy cause to support, anything is truly possible. Even Big Sur.