At this point I was feeling pretty confident that I was not only going to have a great ride but that my days riding a bike as a kid would help me race down the mountain with finesse. They gave us gloves, a bike, and a wicked cool helmet and we started down the mountain. Not one switchback later and I was in a sheer panic...my bike won't STOP!!! I am hurling down the side of a volcano and my brakes won't save me! Switchback after switchback I tried pumping the breaks...it sounded simple enough during the safety briefing, but when it became a matter of life and death it just didn't work! I tried pumping the breaks and all I got was a heart pumping faster as I continued speeding down the mountain!
About 7 miles into the ride, we all stopped for a photo opportunity and I threw myself into Kevin's arms crying that I was surely going to die on that mountain. He lovingly told me I didn't have to ride anymore and that I could get into the van that was following our group (to carry the wimps like me who can't handle the speed)...but my ego wouldn't let me. I was pretty sure I was going to die, and not only would it be the fault of my seemingly missing brakes, but also my pride.
So, we were off again, and this time I had a new resolve - I was going to enjoy this even if it killed me! Well, we made it to the beach and all in all it was a great experience, even if I cried half the time down and wanted to kill my daredevil little sister for egging the guide faster and faster down the volcano. I was COMPLETELY out of my comfort zone - that's for sure!
Photo Op!
A great picture minus the wind blowing my hair!