There is a tradition of using things found on rides for Cornichon awards. "Phil's Revenge" was found on Old La Honda on a May ride and was transported to Mtn. View in this manner.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Phil's Revenge
There is a tradition of using things found on rides for Cornichon awards. "Phil's Revenge" was found on Old La Honda on a May ride and was transported to Mtn. View in this manner.
Shasta Super Century
What a ride! It certainly fit Rune's definition of beautiful (ie. difficult to call it fun). Phil, Rob, Cathy, Sharlene, DNA and Betsey rode the 100K, Rick rode the 100M, and Paul, Rune, Laura and I set out to conquer the 135M route. We also discovered that Tom A. rode the 100M as well, but all the Armstrongs headed out after riding, so we didn't get to hook up.
Me, Julia and the boys drove up Saturday, reaching town in the evening. We'd stopped at the Shasta Caverns tour, which was actually pretty good. I was surprised to learn that about half of the tour was through caverns not discovered until the 80's (19). There weren't any really spectacular formations or anything, but it's a pretty darn good cave even so.
That night, we ate at the much-anticipated Piedmont restaurant, an Italian diner that probably serves the same menu that it started with in 1940. I loaded the pasta in, saving just enough room for the pre-ride ice cream. The first night, we delighted in the quaint sound of locomotives tooting their pastoral horns at the 5 crossings in Mt. Shasta -- just outside our window.
Early the next morning, I rode over to the start to meet Rune, Laura and Rick. Paul was going to start much earlier, but didn't, after he saw a bear wandering about in the dark the night before -- instead he started at 5:20 from Weed, so we didn't catch him for a while. The rest of us started at about 5:45 from Mt. Shasta.
The beginning is a gentle decline and rise around Weed and up to the foothills of the first peak. Then we discovered that although none of the climbs was extremely steep, they were steep enough to make a 1.5 or 2 hour climb a real grind. The terrain is interestingly different than the Sierras, because it's volcanic, and the hills are relatively gentle -- the road had no switchbacks. The beauty was remarkable.
The first climb was on the narrowest road, and as we got near the top, the first descenders started coming down. Rune and Laura, ahead of me, had the bad experience of watching someone else have an even worse experience: This guy, coming down (about 1/2 mile from the top), hit a pothole just in front of them, doing a head/faceplant into the pavement. I'll spoil the suspense by mentioning that later in the day, a ranger told us that the guy was ok. By the time I got to the fallen rider, it was gruesome: A potentially dead guy, crumpled around a smacked-up bike, with liquid spreading onto the pavement in a circle from his head. He wasn't moving. I rode around Laura and didn't even see Rune, who had both stopped, and rode up the hill, warning descenders that there was a crash on the road. At the top, the radio man called for help, and drove down to the crash.
The crowd at the top was very subdued. The view was really nice, with a bit of a chilly breeze coming across the pass. The food that I remember was Payday bars and banana bread -- pretty good really. I think mostly ate Paydays during the whole ride. Incidentally, I drank water mixed with Berry flavored Propel, and, for whatever reason, had no cramping at all, and drank lots of water. All hail kid's stuff.
This descent wasn't much fun, as everyone was thinking of smooshed heads, and we kept having to pull off to let ambulances, police cars, and fire engines go past. It's interesting to note that since the climbs weren't steep, in order to get great altitude gain, we had to ride miles and miles, thus the descent was very long, and we could look off into the distance to see the valley we were descending into as a little speck.
Next, cross back over Weed, and Mt. Shasta. I think it was about 40 miles of up and down before we got to the next climb. This one turned out to be the deal-breaker. The first half was gentle and nice. At the half point, there's a break, and Cathy surprised me by calling my name from the back of a tandem bicycle. I didn't see who was steering, but they claimed later that Rob was there. Much to my great dismay, the "super" riders didn't get to turn around a this point, but were required to continue riding. The road exchanged its insistent medium grade for a grueling steep grade, with few dips or shallow spots. Somewhere at the point where I was contemplating the last 1" of water in my bottle, it leveled out, and we came to the tent at the top. More Paydays and water. Mmmm. The road here was better than the first climb, and the descent was much more fun.
It was at about this point that I noticed that the thrill of watching others climb a hill I'd finished had a restorative action. Since we don't ride too many out-and-back rides -- mostly loops -- I'd never noticed how the suffering of others feels so good. It's unfortunate to note that Rune admitted to feeling just this boost, every time he descended past me -- about an hour ahead of me.
Just at the base of the second climb, a special seven mile climb was indicated for the century and super century riders. I dutifully headed up. I rode with a fellow for a while who warned me that the first two miles were steep. This was true, though I thought the other five miles weren't a cakewalk either. Finally at the top, an amazing view (how beautiful!) and a little lake. The descent was awesome! It was pleasantly warm, the road wide and steep and in good shape. There were plenty of straining riders to pass and smile at.
Here I'll note that the other riders I spoke to were friendly, and I had a few conversations. It did seem like most people were interested in comparing how many extreme rides they'd done, rather than chatting about other stuff. I was told about 105F heat in Markleeville, and warned about the potential of lightning on top of Shasta.
After the third climb, lunch. As I set off, a strange rider identified himself as Paul Ries, which turned out to be true. I left, leaving Paul to pick over the lunch leavings. From lunch, the ride climbs steadily through Mt Shasta city, then up the side of Mount Shasta to the parking lot at 7500'. The total climb is about 4500', which is comparable to climbing Page Mill twice. It didn't feel like that, though -- it felt much more beautiful. The lower part was exposed to the sun, and baked out any remaining energy. Two hours from the top, Laura rolled down -- she'd gotten ahead by wisely skipping the third climb. About 90 minutes from the top, Rune flew by going down. Later, I looked over and saw David Armstrong looking at me from a car. I was too tired to do anything but stare and drool.
I really didn't want to keep going, but I did, and finally I got to the top. It was great! I sat in a deck chair in the tent, and ate some food (I don't remember what). I looked out at the view of the peak (7000' up) and the valley (5000' down). It was all very beautiful.
While I was at the top, the shadows got long on that side of the mountain, and it started to cool off quite a bit. I started my plummet to the base. The first 1/3 was in shadow, and quite chilly. The other downside was that by now, there weren't very many up-riders to give me an energy boost (many had passed me, and I assume plenty had bailed out, too). Finally, I came around the corner of the mountain, and it warmed up nicely. Although I think the road was suited for 50MPH descents, I held it to about 30MPH due to unfamiliarity.
The very best thing about this ride is that you roll off of Shasta, and into the park with the Start/Finish line. Julia, Leo and Simon met me there, and helped peel the salt-encrusted helmet off of my head. Everything was rigid with sweat -- to an even greater degree than after the Death Ride. We were all impressed that I'd finished the whole thing.
Then, a quick trip to the hotel, a fast shower, took Paul to his hotel, then over to the Cornichon's Annual Banquet in Weed (at the cabin rented by Rune and Sharlene). What a fun dinner, especially since I didn't have to do anything but sit and eat and drink. It was really nice to have a big group of the sour pickles hanging out. The word of the hour was Languid, and there was plenty of it going about. It was great to sit there on the deck, and look at The Mountain in the cooling evening.
After dinner, we held an awards ceremony. Rune was awarded the Tough Rider trophy, me, the Hummingbird award, Phil the Deer Revenge trophy, and Rob and Cathy won the Natural Environment Riders (Senior Division) award. Cathy noticed that they have some recruitment to do if they want to be able to get rid of their trophy.
Somewhere around 10pm, my energy totally ran out, and we disappeared back to our hotel. I don't remember the trains, but I'm sure they were there.
Rune thought that this ride is harder than the Death Ride. The next day, I was tired, but not too sore. My odometer was mixed up, so I don't know about total ride time and so forth, but it was just less than 13 hours of wall-clock time for me -- I figure about 11 hours of pedaling, because I took a lot of unscheduled breaks to breathe (on the last two hills). By now -- four days later -- I'd do it again next year. It couldn't have been _that_ bad. :-)
Congratulations to all the riders!
David
Monday, July 16, 2007
Death Warmed Over (Rune's version)
I completed all 5 passes. Unfortunately, I do not have my riding time, as it appears my bike computer got accidentally reset after 90 miles or so (or did not register the whole ride). I used 9 hrs 50 mins to the finish line, and with a 10 minute roll down the hill to where I started, I guess my total wall-clock time was 10 hrs exactly! My riding time somewhere between 8 and 9 hrs. That was my optimistic goal so I am happy with that. I signed the poster at the finish at 3:25 pm.
I camped by the river just outside Markleeville with 5 serious riders who regularly do stuff like Bike Across America, 400-600 Km rides, some crazy ride across the Alps in France, and such. One guy had done the Death Ride 12 times on a recumbent (Larry). I guess I was nervous and hardly slept; heard all the others get up before dawn and take off at 4:30, before I starting seeing a hint of light and decided to get up. After a nervous ride up from the river along a rocky dirt road, I joined the endless stream of riders heading for Monitor pass at 5:30 am.
I quickly determined I had overdressed for the balmy morning, and pocketed my jacket, leg warmers, and long fingered gloves at the top of Monitor Pass before heading down towards Hwy 395. I was taking it easy, making sure I never felt like I was working hard and breathing easily the whole way up. A few fast hot-dogs passed me up, but I knew I had a long long way to go. Going down was fun a bit scary, as I hit 43 mph and had people blast pass me in tight turns where I slowed down. However, I had no death-wish on the death-ride and made sure to take all turns at a comfortable speed. I met David on the way down, and recognized him despite the extra weight on his back (camelback). We spent some time at the rest-stop.
Going back up the backside of Monitor was a lot of fun. I chatted with David for a while, then met Larry (from my campsite), who seemed to be in his own world sitting comfortably on his wide recumbent seat with speakers blasting some guitar solos (Led Zeppelin?) from his handlebars, head thrown back, mouth open, and dream-like eyes. I said hi, and then caught up with Paul and Christ (?) who I also camped with. The scenery was nice, the temperature perfect, and it was still early. I stopped for some water and a horrible gritty double espresso gel, before blasting down the front-side of Monitor pass. I was feeling great. Moved fast through the trees along the river, enjoyed the cheering crowds and was passing up a lot of people ... which, incidentally felt good too, and skipped all rest-stops.
As I started climbing up Ebbets pass I was spinning nicely, had found my pace and enjoyed the warm air, not yet really hot, the granite rocks, and small pine trees. It was a very long climb, and by the time I reached the top I was feeling tired, but had not really pressed hard, still trying to maintain a tempo where I never had to breath hard and never felt my muscles burn. I did not stop at the top (per advice from my camp-fellows) and flew down to the backside of Ebbets. At the rest-stop at the bottom I had some snacks and refilled my bottles. It was now getting hot. Coming back up the heat was getting to me a bit and I was starting to feel tired, but knew lunch was next, and kept pushing to maintain a steady tempo. My legs were getting tired, my butt was on fire, and I was sweating rivers. Again, I did not stop at the top, knowing I could rest on the long downhill.
After screaming down the front-side of Ebbets, by far the most fun descent, I came to the lunch stop where I had soup, a sandwich, refilled my bottles and reapplied sunscreen. There I met Mike K. who had done 4 passes fast and was wiped out. Like last year, he did not think he could make the last pass. I failed to convince him he could do it. We biked together for a bit, through Markleeville and the start/finish at Turtle Rock and I had a good understanding for why people stop after 4 passes: At this point I was tired, the climbing was becoming hard, and my butt felt like it had been hammered with rocks. But I kept going, knowing I could suffer through one more pass.
However, I had not counted on how long and grueling that last pass was. After refilling my bottles at Woodford at the bottom of Carson Pass with water and most welcome ice, I now climbed slowly at 6.5 mph up to pickets junction and Hope Valley. The climb was endless; my mind was repeating the mantra "almost there" "ice-cream" "almost there" "ice cream". More ice and water was welcome at Picket's Junction and the last part of the climb in headwind went a little better as I started regaining some strength. Towards the end I was passing up those who passed me lower down on the hill. I also met a guy on the way up who started doing the Death Ride at age 10, and did the full thing at age 12. He was now 20 and had done it 11 times. We rode together to the top. At the top I got the pin, had two ice creams, and chatted a bit with one of the MVV guys we see at Pete's. They had never passed me but still claimed to have started at 6:15, meaning they must have passed me at a rest-stop and had been going at an impressive speed.
When I got back to the finish after a scary and blitzing fast downhill with strong side-winds, they had not even started grilling dinner. I packed up and drove to Truckee. I swore I would never do it again, since the last pass was so painful, but after 24 hrs I was ready to do it again next year. What is wrong with me?
--- Rune
I camped by the river just outside Markleeville with 5 serious riders who regularly do stuff like Bike Across America, 400-600 Km rides, some crazy ride across the Alps in France, and such. One guy had done the Death Ride 12 times on a recumbent (Larry). I guess I was nervous and hardly slept; heard all the others get up before dawn and take off at 4:30, before I starting seeing a hint of light and decided to get up. After a nervous ride up from the river along a rocky dirt road, I joined the endless stream of riders heading for Monitor pass at 5:30 am.
I quickly determined I had overdressed for the balmy morning, and pocketed my jacket, leg warmers, and long fingered gloves at the top of Monitor Pass before heading down towards Hwy 395. I was taking it easy, making sure I never felt like I was working hard and breathing easily the whole way up. A few fast hot-dogs passed me up, but I knew I had a long long way to go. Going down was fun a bit scary, as I hit 43 mph and had people blast pass me in tight turns where I slowed down. However, I had no death-wish on the death-ride and made sure to take all turns at a comfortable speed. I met David on the way down, and recognized him despite the extra weight on his back (camelback). We spent some time at the rest-stop.
Going back up the backside of Monitor was a lot of fun. I chatted with David for a while, then met Larry (from my campsite), who seemed to be in his own world sitting comfortably on his wide recumbent seat with speakers blasting some guitar solos (Led Zeppelin?) from his handlebars, head thrown back, mouth open, and dream-like eyes. I said hi, and then caught up with Paul and Christ (?) who I also camped with. The scenery was nice, the temperature perfect, and it was still early. I stopped for some water and a horrible gritty double espresso gel, before blasting down the front-side of Monitor pass. I was feeling great. Moved fast through the trees along the river, enjoyed the cheering crowds and was passing up a lot of people ... which, incidentally felt good too, and skipped all rest-stops.
As I started climbing up Ebbets pass I was spinning nicely, had found my pace and enjoyed the warm air, not yet really hot, the granite rocks, and small pine trees. It was a very long climb, and by the time I reached the top I was feeling tired, but had not really pressed hard, still trying to maintain a tempo where I never had to breath hard and never felt my muscles burn. I did not stop at the top (per advice from my camp-fellows) and flew down to the backside of Ebbets. At the rest-stop at the bottom I had some snacks and refilled my bottles. It was now getting hot. Coming back up the heat was getting to me a bit and I was starting to feel tired, but knew lunch was next, and kept pushing to maintain a steady tempo. My legs were getting tired, my butt was on fire, and I was sweating rivers. Again, I did not stop at the top, knowing I could rest on the long downhill.
After screaming down the front-side of Ebbets, by far the most fun descent, I came to the lunch stop where I had soup, a sandwich, refilled my bottles and reapplied sunscreen. There I met Mike K. who had done 4 passes fast and was wiped out. Like last year, he did not think he could make the last pass. I failed to convince him he could do it. We biked together for a bit, through Markleeville and the start/finish at Turtle Rock and I had a good understanding for why people stop after 4 passes: At this point I was tired, the climbing was becoming hard, and my butt felt like it had been hammered with rocks. But I kept going, knowing I could suffer through one more pass.
However, I had not counted on how long and grueling that last pass was. After refilling my bottles at Woodford at the bottom of Carson Pass with water and most welcome ice, I now climbed slowly at 6.5 mph up to pickets junction and Hope Valley. The climb was endless; my mind was repeating the mantra "almost there" "ice-cream" "almost there" "ice cream". More ice and water was welcome at Picket's Junction and the last part of the climb in headwind went a little better as I started regaining some strength. Towards the end I was passing up those who passed me lower down on the hill. I also met a guy on the way up who started doing the Death Ride at age 10, and did the full thing at age 12. He was now 20 and had done it 11 times. We rode together to the top. At the top I got the pin, had two ice creams, and chatted a bit with one of the MVV guys we see at Pete's. They had never passed me but still claimed to have started at 6:15, meaning they must have passed me at a rest-stop and had been going at an impressive speed.
When I got back to the finish after a scary and blitzing fast downhill with strong side-winds, they had not even started grilling dinner. I packed up and drove to Truckee. I swore I would never do it again, since the last pass was so painful, but after 24 hrs I was ready to do it again next year. What is wrong with me?
--- Rune
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Death Warmed Over
I completed four passes.
Yesterday, I had nothing good to say about the death ride, but my memory has pleasantly faded by today. I started at 5am, slightly chilly, but really probably mid-50's. Up over Monitor pass, which is an endless, single grade climb. The worst part of a climb like that is that you can see a line of little ants about two or three miles ahead, and slowly, you become one of those ants. Coming down was significantly more fun, except for navigating the 20-MPH and the 50-MPH riders. Jeez! Just before the bottom, Rune (starting at 5:30) caught up to me. We started back up to Monitor pass, and rode together for about ten minutes. I learned that Paul and co. started at 4am, which might not have been a bad idea.
Back over Monitor, then a left turn, and up to Ebbets pass. This one is nasty. It was a freakin' long climb. Generally, say, like going from gate 2 to gate 3 on Page Mill, but doing it for two hours or something. It was quite beautiful. Just as I got to the top, my legs started to twinge. I rested and contemplated finishing three passes, but I decided that the fourth pass (down the back of Ebbets, and back up just 5 miles) wouldn't be too much. Coming back up, I was glad that I'd filled my water backback with ice -- that saved my life. It was getting quite warm, and the climb is pretty exposed. It was unfortunate that none of the other water stops seemed to have ice. My mantra had become, at this point "the worst thing that can happen is that I'll cry".
Coming down Ebbets was great -- lots of fun zooming down the hill. It really did my heart and mood good to see all those people suffering up the mountain that I was completely done with. Then I started to get massive leg cramps, so I had to stand up in the pedals and grit my teeth. Ow! One notable thing were three women at one cabin who were partying and cheering on the riders -- they added a bit of fun to the ride.
Then lunch, and a lazy roll back to Markleeville. At this point, I was on the fence about going for Kit Carson pass -- I felt wiped out. In Markleeville, the heat came up, and it was hot! I was sweating and drinking -- but not eating enough. By the time I'd climbed back to Turtle Rock park, I was totally done. I rode into the finish area, and stood there dazed. My cell phone had no signal, so I couldn't call Julia, and I was about two hours early. There was a pay phone, but I wasn't about to call for help in front of all these other bikers who'd finished the whole thing already. I took an easy roll down to Woodford's to use my phone there. I was thinking that maybe I'd keep riding, but I could barely pedal my bike across the street, so I SAG'd out (Julia -- kindly -- picked me up about 20 minutes later). 90 miles -- 8 hours pedaling time.
Ultimately, I think the heat, combined with not eating enough, killed me. Timewise, I was doing OK. I called Julia at about 2pm, and I figured the rest of the ride would take me about three hours -- I just didn't want to ride anymore, to the degree that I didn't even want to do anything that would help me feel better. I may have to do it again; I haven't decided. At any rate, I think it was a pretty good achievement, and I feel great today.
Rune had a great ride, but that's his to tell. I heard that he ran into Mike K. at the lunch stop. I saw one of the MVV guys go by me down Ebbets, but I didn't see anyone else that I know.
We stayed three nights at David Walley's resort, in Genoa. We've wanted to test it for a long time. It's a bit weird place. The people there are quite nice -- at lot of Midwesterners. The timeshare part isn't that nice though -- it seems overdeveloped relative to the size of the attraction. The spa is good, with hot mineral pools, and reasonable massages. We ate dinner at this classy French restaurant, La Ferme, in Genoa, so I had to break my temperance rule, and split a bottle of wine with Julia on Thursday night.
Our next ride is the Shasta Super Century. Since I didn't do the whole DR, I'm contemplating the long version here, but not sure about it. I hated getting up at 3:45AM!
David
Yesterday, I had nothing good to say about the death ride, but my memory has pleasantly faded by today. I started at 5am, slightly chilly, but really probably mid-50's. Up over Monitor pass, which is an endless, single grade climb. The worst part of a climb like that is that you can see a line of little ants about two or three miles ahead, and slowly, you become one of those ants. Coming down was significantly more fun, except for navigating the 20-MPH and the 50-MPH riders. Jeez! Just before the bottom, Rune (starting at 5:30) caught up to me. We started back up to Monitor pass, and rode together for about ten minutes. I learned that Paul and co. started at 4am, which might not have been a bad idea.
Back over Monitor, then a left turn, and up to Ebbets pass. This one is nasty. It was a freakin' long climb. Generally, say, like going from gate 2 to gate 3 on Page Mill, but doing it for two hours or something. It was quite beautiful. Just as I got to the top, my legs started to twinge. I rested and contemplated finishing three passes, but I decided that the fourth pass (down the back of Ebbets, and back up just 5 miles) wouldn't be too much. Coming back up, I was glad that I'd filled my water backback with ice -- that saved my life. It was getting quite warm, and the climb is pretty exposed. It was unfortunate that none of the other water stops seemed to have ice. My mantra had become, at this point "the worst thing that can happen is that I'll cry".
Coming down Ebbets was great -- lots of fun zooming down the hill. It really did my heart and mood good to see all those people suffering up the mountain that I was completely done with. Then I started to get massive leg cramps, so I had to stand up in the pedals and grit my teeth. Ow! One notable thing were three women at one cabin who were partying and cheering on the riders -- they added a bit of fun to the ride.
Then lunch, and a lazy roll back to Markleeville. At this point, I was on the fence about going for Kit Carson pass -- I felt wiped out. In Markleeville, the heat came up, and it was hot! I was sweating and drinking -- but not eating enough. By the time I'd climbed back to Turtle Rock park, I was totally done. I rode into the finish area, and stood there dazed. My cell phone had no signal, so I couldn't call Julia, and I was about two hours early. There was a pay phone, but I wasn't about to call for help in front of all these other bikers who'd finished the whole thing already. I took an easy roll down to Woodford's to use my phone there. I was thinking that maybe I'd keep riding, but I could barely pedal my bike across the street, so I SAG'd out (Julia -- kindly -- picked me up about 20 minutes later). 90 miles -- 8 hours pedaling time.
Ultimately, I think the heat, combined with not eating enough, killed me. Timewise, I was doing OK. I called Julia at about 2pm, and I figured the rest of the ride would take me about three hours -- I just didn't want to ride anymore, to the degree that I didn't even want to do anything that would help me feel better. I may have to do it again; I haven't decided. At any rate, I think it was a pretty good achievement, and I feel great today.
Rune had a great ride, but that's his to tell. I heard that he ran into Mike K. at the lunch stop. I saw one of the MVV guys go by me down Ebbets, but I didn't see anyone else that I know.
We stayed three nights at David Walley's resort, in Genoa. We've wanted to test it for a long time. It's a bit weird place. The people there are quite nice -- at lot of Midwesterners. The timeshare part isn't that nice though -- it seems overdeveloped relative to the size of the attraction. The spa is good, with hot mineral pools, and reasonable massages. We ate dinner at this classy French restaurant, La Ferme, in Genoa, so I had to break my temperance rule, and split a bottle of wine with Julia on Thursday night.
Our next ride is the Shasta Super Century. Since I didn't do the whole DR, I'm contemplating the long version here, but not sure about it. I hated getting up at 3:45AM!
David
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Tourus Interruptus
I woke up this morning with all of my misanthropy intact. Drove down to HP Galactic HQ to register and ride in the Tour de Cure (for the American Diabetes Association) 120K gig, basically the Dearth Ride, except going over on King's Mountain.
It was fair warning -- signed up for the Google team, I was indunated with emails about practice rides, who's going to meet where, and ok let's raise money! I got to the area before Rune and Sharlene, so I registered. A crowd of morons in ADA t-shirts clanking cowbells everytime someone registers. Kill me now. I'm thinkin' "there _is_ no cure for this". I drink complimentary Starbucks coffee. I go over to the Google tent and say hi. We take a picture or two, then its time to line up for the start. Millions of riders, all in their corporate cyclewear. Lots of biotech companies. Later, I realize, of course they are there, raising frickin' money so that hospitals can afford to buy their frickin' biotech products. Vultures. No Rune, no Sharlene. Cowbells. The ride starts, and there are R&S -- not registered.
I need to reveal my own problem, which is that I have to be back by 1 (a _safe_ 1) in order to attend Simon's violin recital at 2. This means I don't feel comfortable hanging around waiting for R&S -- I've got to bust my ass to finish the loop in time, and I'm not relaxed about it.
So I take off with the crowd of nimrods in colorful cyclist garb. We blast peloton-style out to Alpine, Portola, and over to Kings Mountain. Very few friendly people. All the cockheads are out, faster than me, faster than you. I did hook up with one fellow going up KM, and we chatted -- that was ok, but the effect was spoiled by a guy zooming by us and reassuring us that we were "really doing well!". Frickin' reassuring to be the retard of the month.
Somewhere at this point, I realized that I had no interest in spending another day on my bike (after last weeks 9 hour extravaganza), and I knew I was going to bail out. I rode to the top, over to 84, took my number off, and had an excellent ride back to HP. The icy black fog over the hill wasn't the reason, buy it did provide support for the decision. The whole way back, I was trying to guess how I could get back without hearing any more cowbells. I got lucky, and was able to slip away quietly.
Going back, I did get stuck behind a guy wearing a full Bike Connection outfit, with _underwear_ peeking above his shorts. It's so wrong.
The main thing I've learned from this is to avoid rides hosted by big charities. I'd rather be contributing to the local Boy Scout's Beer Fund, or something useful like that.
Also, I realized that when the Cornichons finally organize a ride, its' going to be a fundraiser for NORML. We can ride from Mountain View to Palo Alto, do bong hits, and sit on the lawn and listen to reggae. More cowbell!
Sincerely,
David
It was fair warning -- signed up for the Google team, I was indunated with emails about practice rides, who's going to meet where, and ok let's raise money! I got to the area before Rune and Sharlene, so I registered. A crowd of morons in ADA t-shirts clanking cowbells everytime someone registers. Kill me now. I'm thinkin' "there _is_ no cure for this". I drink complimentary Starbucks coffee. I go over to the Google tent and say hi. We take a picture or two, then its time to line up for the start. Millions of riders, all in their corporate cyclewear. Lots of biotech companies. Later, I realize, of course they are there, raising frickin' money so that hospitals can afford to buy their frickin' biotech products. Vultures. No Rune, no Sharlene. Cowbells. The ride starts, and there are R&S -- not registered.
I need to reveal my own problem, which is that I have to be back by 1 (a _safe_ 1) in order to attend Simon's violin recital at 2. This means I don't feel comfortable hanging around waiting for R&S -- I've got to bust my ass to finish the loop in time, and I'm not relaxed about it.
So I take off with the crowd of nimrods in colorful cyclist garb. We blast peloton-style out to Alpine, Portola, and over to Kings Mountain. Very few friendly people. All the cockheads are out, faster than me, faster than you. I did hook up with one fellow going up KM, and we chatted -- that was ok, but the effect was spoiled by a guy zooming by us and reassuring us that we were "really doing well!". Frickin' reassuring to be the retard of the month.
Somewhere at this point, I realized that I had no interest in spending another day on my bike (after last weeks 9 hour extravaganza), and I knew I was going to bail out. I rode to the top, over to 84, took my number off, and had an excellent ride back to HP. The icy black fog over the hill wasn't the reason, buy it did provide support for the decision. The whole way back, I was trying to guess how I could get back without hearing any more cowbells. I got lucky, and was able to slip away quietly.
Going back, I did get stuck behind a guy wearing a full Bike Connection outfit, with _underwear_ peeking above his shorts. It's so wrong.
The main thing I've learned from this is to avoid rides hosted by big charities. I'd rather be contributing to the local Boy Scout's Beer Fund, or something useful like that.
Also, I realized that when the Cornichons finally organize a ride, its' going to be a fundraiser for NORML. We can ride from Mountain View to Palo Alto, do bong hits, and sit on the lawn and listen to reggae. More cowbell!
Sincerely,
David
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