It’s Easter, 2012 when I roll up to the starting line for my first attempt. My legs splay out awkwardly, and my heart is in my throat. I’d joked with friends that I’d at least have a great story to tell if I lost an arm. But what if I do lose an arm? Had I knocked on wood when I said that? Should I knock on wood now? But I’m surrounded on all sides by big wheelers, and there’s no going back. The countdown begins, and the steep road pulls us forward.
A word about Vermont Street: its 14.3% grade is no joke. It has switchbacks much like Lombard Street (where BYO Big Wheel began), but wins the curviness contest with a sinuosity of 1.56, versus 1.2 for Lombard Street. The switchbacks are lined with hay for the occasion, and they’re a very necessary precaution.
As
soon as we round the first corner, the pack picks up speed. Some bounce off of
the hay bails, others become entangled in one another, and I dig my heels into
the ground, skidding around accidents. I’m riding behind a witch and a ninja
turtle, when a unicorn comes blazing past on an adult-sized big wheel. Who knew
big wheels could be so speedy? By the third switchback, I’m squarely in the
middle of this pack. The truly reckless are out of sight or amid pileups, and
my initial terror starts to melt away. The last switchback leads into a fast & straight final stretch to the finish line. My costumed comrades let out whoops of triumph, and I manage a happy squeak. As soon as I can stop, I’m up with my trusty red steed over my shoulder, scrambling back up to the starting line.
