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Subject: The Friday Ride - As the Weather Cooled - 10/1/99
With perfect timing the month turned to October, the weather continued the cooling trend, and the regulars showed up with a notable exception to be detailed later.
At Deer Park Michael and I arrived within moments of each other and I found it possible to do without extra warming gear while preparing for the ride. Jim, Randy, Shred and the lovely Barbita came in from the Knolls, all in fine fettle and ready to ride. Jim felt better after last week's cold, Barb had played hooky on the class field trip to Fresno (Fresno?!) and the rest of us lined up to discuss route. Nobody seemed to be able to complete a sentence. Michael wanted to do Slacker which would have meant parting at the Sky Oaks Rd. - too short a group ride. But I was ready to back him if necessary. Scouts seemed to be negotiable, and not a sticking point, but the Knolls gang wanted to do Shit Hill and that meant Michael and I would have to do Oat Hill, Old Vee, and pavement to Tam.
Finally, after deciding nothing, a splinter group (hard to imagine, huh?) just pedaled off toward Five Corners and everybody else simply followed. Another beautiful Freewheeler negotiation and decision. The missing regular was, of course, Danny. After a thorough exploratory discussion last week, the consensus seemed easily agreed upon. Last week, when Danny was still resisting going to the doctor to find out just how hockey-whacked his kidneys were, we decided to offer him a trail side autopsy with bike tools if he wouldn't see a Doc. This week, Danny did the right thing, saw the Doc, who with awesome clarity and great medical wisdom proclaimed "Yaz got whacked in the kidneys!" So our group has decided that it is time for tough love and a hockey intervention. Broken ribs, bruised kidneys, missing the fall riding season with the best weather all year, the PerCenT Ride, the picnic ride, everything lovely. This must stop! It's hockey or your friends, dude! Hell, it's hockey or your life! Quit pucking around with your health!
As we worked our way up the hill a helmetless uphiller Marin style (what is the freewheeler term - bisquit?) rider dropped all of us which was particualrly easy in Juan and Jim's case as Juan had already flatted and Jim was keeping him company while he changed his tube. When we got to Sky Oaks Michael and I had decided on Slacker and a too-quick, but tough guy goodbye to the gang. The no helmet babe had tried putting her moves on Barb, so Barb gave her a helmeted whippin' and beat her up the hill! Helmet wearers rule! I'm sure glad this responsibility didn't fall on me! As Michael and I prepared, after a friendly conversation with the gang to depart south, Barbita, doing her best "Happy birthday Mr. President!" Marilyn Monroe imitation, called out with the siren's song, "Come ride with me, Franco!" You have never seen such a shameless dereliction of purpose in the face of flattery and seduction. Mr. Franco, who just last week treated us all to the inner struggles commanding his soul between the sleazy Franco and the noble Michael, IMMEDIATELY gave in to Franco and followed Barb north down Sky Oaks leaving me with nowhere to go but after him.
So Shit Hill it was. Everybody cleaned it except Michael who put a foot down and Shred who either dabbed or walked or both, I'm not sure. At Oat Hill we said our real fairwells as the Knolls gang headed home to various responsibilities. Michael and I began to argue over whether to go up Ridgecrest or to follow my latest concept which was to head down Bo Ridge and Jewell and end up in the Knolls, returning via Arch to the SG Ridge and back through Scouts which would have been epic for sure. Michael castigated me for trying to control the ride and my fear of pavement while he tried desparately to control the ride and embrace the pavement. I ended up winning the route war for the second week in a row. This string of "petite victoires" will undoubtedly end very soon, but I was living it up for the moment.
On our way down Oat Hill, we stopped for snacks at the rocks at the entrance to Nail Trail. A great view and perfect weather, temperature, etc. After the snack we did a leisurely descent down Old Vee and then held it around 15 mph up Kent Pump. At the dam we observed 25 huge fish swimming next to the dam. Michael discussed Whorl (or Whirl) Disease in the trout in Colorado. These fish were rambling in a large school but it didn't look like Whorl to me. While Michael waited at Bo Ridge I finished the climb up from the dam. It is exactly 2.5 miles and approximately 700 feet. After another snack we shredded the Ridge. All bets were off as traction was great, the path clear, and nobody (much) was around. Cool in the trees, cool in the breeze, fog on the ocean, and only the thick brown haze of the Westley tire fire fucking things up a little. Unfortuantely, when we got to RAMBLERS Rock (Responsible Activist Mountain Bikers Lobbying Enlightened Regulation of Singletrack) it was too much fall and not enough summer.
The COWS! had really blitzed the place. It looked like a wacky art thing or something. "Moonscape with Cowshit". Everything was munched down to the nub, trodden, and covered in shit piles, right up to the rock itself. I swept some cow chips away to make a place to sit! We enjoyed our lunch to the extent that this somewhat depressing scene foreboding the onset of winter (nuclear?) allowed us. Then it was shred onward and El Mule-o was ramblin' hard down the ridge. That was big fun. Enjoying the cheap miles back through SPT Park we came on a construction project that had closed the bike path at the campground. We went out to the road and got back on the path at the bridge. Time was becoming a factor so we decided to do 16 Knolls instead of Arch and headed up. El Mule-o was going strong up the climb, at one point, putting a turn or two between himself and Franco. But Michael hung in and got within a few bike lengths by the top. As we worked our way up the ridge it became evident that there wasn't time for Scouts. Bummer, we would have to do Repack and head home. Then to add final insult to route injury, I started to get that "crampy" feeling just before the last little zinger climb before SG Ridge levels out before Repack. I had to walk it! So close but, a cramp cigar. The rest was hand cramps on that pesky Repack. We saw one old guy like ourselves heading up and I complimented him on his contrarian toughness.
However, the route did provide the advantage we sought. We were back at the cars by 4:40 and that pretty well insured that I wouldn't get hit with that $10 a minute child care penalty after 6:00 pm back in Berkeley. Just one of those and it will be the last Friday Ride for El Mule-o for quite a while!
STATS: 40.43 miles. 5000 feet elevation gain. One flat. No mechanicals. Great weather. Tire fire haze. Last hill cramps. Good times anyhow! Eric Muhler The Grand Vizier ericmuhler@btceastbay.org http://www.btceastbay.org