There was no channeling of Jedi Masters this week. After iffy weather reports all week, the clouds parted and we had a chilly, but calm ride through bucolic Marin county.
“Deceptively difficult” is how Coach Jim describes the ride. No painfully long climbs to attack, just a lot of rollers and “roads like this” - ahead of me I saw the road meander up the hillside and disappear around a bend that felt like a 30% grade (it was “only” 15%).
Our route took us out the western side of Tomales Bay through some Marin dairy country. The hills were just sprouting their green Spring fur and the cows still reached under the fence to eat what grew over there. The cows stared at us unabashedly. Chewing, they lined up to see the silly humans garbed in garishly colored clothing on shiny two wheeled machines. They were in black and white – the formal receiving line – we were the red carpet stars making an ungainly entrance to the party. Gasping, cursing, whining to stay upright at 3 mph. (Okay, I speak for myself – others were far more graceful).
Because I'm a little odd, I always carry on conversations with cows I ride by. They seem receptive.
When you see a sign saying “Not a county maintained road,” ummmm. Believe it. Some of our downhills (yes, there were times I actually got to coast) were on bone-jarring pothole patches and alligator pavement. Avoiding the holes and ruts at 3mph is simpler and less consequential than at 30mph. But we persevered. No teeth chipped, no tongues bitten off.
The second leg of our route took us to the Point Reyes lighthouse. I haven't been out to the lighthouse in at least a decade and probably longer. The point juts 10 miles into the Pacific Ocean. The National Park Service claims it is the windiest place on the Pacific Coast and second windiest on the North American Continent. We were lucky yesterday! This leg also brought rolling hills, but with scrubbier vegetation. Unsheltered, the plants cling low to the ground and the grassland isn't as plentiful as the northern part of the peninsula.
Still, there were cows. Some wearing their pretty plastic earrings. “Hello, Ms. 144, how are you today? Thank you for the fine cheese.”
And.
There were cattle grates. And dirt. And other brown substances we rode through. I haven't decided which is worse – cattle grates on a climb (must.keep.wheel.straight.) or cattle grates on a descent (I hope my bike doesn't fall apart!). Neither is optimal, but we're tough Death Riders! A cattle grate won't deter us!
Becky, one of our team honorees, was just around every corner, cheering us on and taking our pictures. She cheered us on the flats, she cheered us at the top of climbs. Seeing her smile at the top of a climb was such a fine reminder of why we were out here punishing ourselves while others were already having green beer and corned beef. We rode 65 miles. Becky must have driven 100, giving up her Saturday to stand out in the cold while a bunch of crazy cyclists ride by. Thanks, Becky!
1 comment:
well done subers.
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