In 2015, my wife and I moved from Los Angeles County to San Diego. The Del Cerro home we picked on Dwane Avenue has a view of San Diego State University. On a clear day, we can see San Diego Bay, Tijuana, and the Coronado Islands. We love that view, and it was one of the main reasons we bought the house, but I had one major concern. Would I be able to pedal my road bike up Madra Avenue, the easiest way to access our street?
Cycling had become my primary form of exercise. I envisioned biking all over San Diego County after I retired, but could I make it home? My street branches off Madra just before it crests the hill. From either direction, it is over half a mile and four hundred vertical feet from the bottom of Del Cerro to Dwane. The grade is fourteen percent for at least part of the ride. Before we moved to San Diego, the steepest grade I had ridden was ten percent.
Shortly after moving in, I challenged Madra. I crossed Del Cerro Boulevard and the entrance to Windmill Farms. Not too hard so far, I told myself, continuing up the residential street. I noticed the increasing grade and downshifted to lower and lower gears. My speed decreased. Just past Elmhurst Drive, Madra jogged to the left and the grade increased dramatically. I shifted to my lowest gear and bore down on my pedals. I looked at my Garmin and noted that I was going only three miles per hour, and that the grade was eleven percent. I struggled to continue moving forward. When I looked again, the grade had increased to fourteen percent. Madra bent right, and I followed its curve. My legs began to cramp, but I kept pedaling. I have to stop, I thought — but I didn’t.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the whimsically dressed Madra Dog. The statue is a beloved sentinel of our neighborhood. On that day, he was wearing a patriot costume for Memorial Day, and he seemed to say, You can do it. And I could.
The road straightened, the grade diminished to five percent, and I felt my speed increase. I took a deep breath, but didn’t relax. I knew I hadn’t made it yet. Ahead, after a relatively flat stretch, Madra turned sharply left to make its final switchback ascent toward the top of Del Cerro. I stood on my pedals, gripped the handlebars, and pushed down with everything I had. Slowly, I followed the tortuous road. Ahead I could see where Dwane met Madra at a four-way intersection.
Dwane isn’t flat. It runs across the face of Del Cerro trying to follow the contour of the hill. It drops about fifty feet in the middle and then regains that lost altitude before dead ending at my home. But it’s mild compared to Madra. As I pedaled up Dwane, I knew I had achieved my goal. The last half mile on Dwane felt like a victory lap.
Riding Madra is never easy, but once I did it, I knew I could do it again. By now, I’ve ridden Madra hundreds of times; I still get a feeling of accomplishment each time I finish.
In 2015, my wife and I moved from Los Angeles County to San Diego. The Del Cerro home we picked on Dwane Avenue has a view of San Diego State University. On a clear day, we can see San Diego Bay, Tijuana, and the Coronado Islands. We love that view, and it was one of the main reasons we bought the house, but I had one major concern. Would I be able to pedal my road bike up Madra Avenue, the easiest way to access our street?
Cycling had become my primary form of exercise. I envisioned biking all over San Diego County after I retired, but could I make it home? My street branches off Madra just before it crests the hill. From either direction, it is over half a mile and four hundred vertical feet from the bottom of Del Cerro to Dwane. The grade is fourteen percent for at least part of the ride. Before we moved to San Diego, the steepest grade I had ridden was ten percent.
Shortly after moving in, I challenged Madra. I crossed Del Cerro Boulevard and the entrance to Windmill Farms. Not too hard so far, I told myself, continuing up the residential street. I noticed the increasing grade and downshifted to lower and lower gears. My speed decreased. Just past Elmhurst Drive, Madra jogged to the left and the grade increased dramatically. I shifted to my lowest gear and bore down on my pedals. I looked at my Garmin and noted that I was going only three miles per hour, and that the grade was eleven percent. I struggled to continue moving forward. When I looked again, the grade had increased to fourteen percent. Madra bent right, and I followed its curve. My legs began to cramp, but I kept pedaling. I have to stop, I thought — but I didn’t.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the whimsically dressed Madra Dog. The statue is a beloved sentinel of our neighborhood. On that day, he was wearing a patriot costume for Memorial Day, and he seemed to say, You can do it. And I could.
The road straightened, the grade diminished to five percent, and I felt my speed increase. I took a deep breath, but didn’t relax. I knew I hadn’t made it yet. Ahead, after a relatively flat stretch, Madra turned sharply left to make its final switchback ascent toward the top of Del Cerro. I stood on my pedals, gripped the handlebars, and pushed down with everything I had. Slowly, I followed the tortuous road. Ahead I could see where Dwane met Madra at a four-way intersection.
Dwane isn’t flat. It runs across the face of Del Cerro trying to follow the contour of the hill. It drops about fifty feet in the middle and then regains that lost altitude before dead ending at my home. But it’s mild compared to Madra. As I pedaled up Dwane, I knew I had achieved my goal. The last half mile on Dwane felt like a victory lap.
Riding Madra is never easy, but once I did it, I knew I could do it again. By now, I’ve ridden Madra hundreds of times; I still get a feeling of accomplishment each time I finish.
Comments