I’m just home from such a great weekend of playing bikes at Special Blend Gravel in Dufur, Oregon. It’s a 3-day women’s gravel camp with excellent riding, opportunities for coaching and endless good vibes.

Each day there was a different route and we split up into groups. There was no molasses group so I went with the Blue Gummies – yeah, I was also thinking maybe it was thooooose gummies. Each group had a coach and a sweep – my new bestie is Sean who is the kindest, most patient sweep – with an endless stash of gummy candy. On the second day, I also learned that Sean had a bottle of whiskey in his van and he may or may not have bribed me with a post ride libation if I stopped my whining and kept climbing. But more about that later.

Friday’s ride was a little over 70km and 1,000ish metres of climbing. There was a wee smidge of underbiking which I loved and then a big splooshy puddle to ride through. Success!!

But the success rate faltered as I struggled with cramping before the aid station. Oh yes, there are aid stations on the rides at this camp – well stocked aid stations with no shortage of delicious. Salty crackers and almond butter is a new favourite, and between that and increasing my electrolyte intake, the cramping was taken care of. I did get tangled up in some head games that just made for a tough day on the bike on Friday.

Saturday morning, I put my fear in my back pocket and told it to just zip it until at least the aid station. I stuck to my nutrition and hydration plan diligently and felt pretty good rolling into the aid station. Beyond the aid station we faced a daunting 15km climb of eternal suffering. It sucked my soul. At the same time, I could lift my head and be in complete awe of the landscape: Mt Hood in one direction, Mt Adam the other way and even Mt Rainier from some spots when it peeked out around Mt. Adam. Once or twice, the clouds lifted just enough for a glimpse of Mt St. Helen. There are abandoned old schoolhouses littered around the area, and it appears the farming just continues around them.

As much as I bitched and moaned about the climbing, the wonder of being in such a magical place, having chosen to come and do something really, really hard was not lost on me. What a privilege it is to have the physical and mental strength to be out there doing something challenging. What decadence to be out there, on a supported trip, on a great bike in a beautiful place, with good people. You ride with lots of different people over the course of the weekend and everyone is kind and encouraging.

But then I’d look up and the hill just kept on going up up up, and a little groan would escape. At the summit, all heartache was instantly forgotten because I’m fickle like that. My spirits soared from having done the awful climb and having a gloriously long descent to look forward to …. after a series of rolling hills. There’s a 10km descent at the end of the route which I’d ridden timidly the day before. On day 2 it had an element of familiarity, and with a little more confidence, I was able to cut some time off my previous day’s time. I can’t think of any other time when 3 minutes might make a girl so happy.

My fear must have flown out of my pocket on that fast descent, because when I got back to the finish, it was nowhere to be found. Sean brought over the promised libation at the end of the ride, and I do believe the understanding of what constitutes a recovery drink has just leveled up.

Sunday was a shorter course, with a little less climbing but no walk in the park. I pondered giving it a miss, but I knew I’d regret that choice as soon as everyone had taken off. So I headed out, only committing to get to the aid station. At the first brutal hill which we’d also climbed the day before, I asked my legs about turning pedals, and they responded with some colorful language. I walked the worst section of the climb, and then got back on again when I could. Because you can just do what you can.

Another amazing day on the bike – the views out there are just so beautiful. Endless rolling hills and such great gravel. Of course there was another looooong climb on Sunday but the grade was way more forgiving. The temperature rose and even I peeled off my leg warmers and my layers. That warm sun on my arms and legs was wonderful.

Sean was relieved from his sweep duties as I rode back in with Chad on the last day. Chad is just as patient and answered all my questions about the course for the race that I’m going back down for in two week’s time. But sure enough, when I did get back, my recovery whiskey from Sean was waiting for me.

I can’t say enough about the people – both behind the event and also my fellow campers, the location, the gravel the views, the host hotel, the sunsets … it’s a long list of wonderful. Serena Gordon has created something pretty damned special and I am so grateful to have been a part of it. As she says, inspiration flows both ways.