The ride to the cliff had been uphill but not too strenuous. Harry’s chest heaved when he reached the cliff but he expected to get his second wind as the path went slightly down for a few hundred yards. After that there was a steeper slope upward for more than a mile before the trail turned back inland. He allowed a brief moment of doubt as he looked along the cliff, then looked down and saw Albert rowing steadily away from the shore. I can do it, he thought, and fought through the doubt.
“Take it slow and don’t look down,” Ian told him. “I’ll be right behind you. If you get in trouble, we can get off the cliff by leaving the bikes and climbing up the bluff.”
No way, Harry thought and shot off, wanting to put distance between them.
The first few hundred yards gave him confidence but now he was on the upgrade and feeling the strain in his thighs. Maybe more out of shape than I thought…shift down a gear. After ten minutes, wet with sweat…the breeze off the Lock that seemed chilly at first, now felt cold…should have brought a windbreaker…another five minutes seemed like twenty…not going as fast in lower gears…the skin on head, neck and shoulders began to tingle, felt like ripples washing upward…legs protesting…shifting to lowest gear…stay ahead of Ian… can’t let Albert beat me…gotta show Monica… “Harry, Harry, Stop”…narrow place ahead where the bluff juts out…have to be careful…now his sense all narrow to just the handlebars and legs…keep pushing, get the second wind (he didn’t see Albert give up and head back to shore)…fight through the fatigue, done it before… “Harry, be careful!”