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Subject: A Simple Friday - Group Ride

Something different was in the air this morning over Tam as I whisked across the SR Bridge. I felt relaxed even though I was "late" for the Freak meeting at Deer Park. I haven't been relaxed in so long I can't remember it. Perhaps it was the fact that my daughter Alexandra had finished up her 12 weeks of rehearsals and performances and is now in France, halving my parent load. Maybe it is this sustained pleasant weather. Maybe I don't care any more if I'm late. I'm a broken man when it comes to shaving miliseconds off my driving time. Maybe its all the above, but whatever it is, I like it!

Anyhow I passed Shrednicki on his way into Deer Park. He seemed happy to hear Aretha wailing the Siren's Song as I approached. Soon I was shoed and helmeted and the Dictator, who I think of lately as a paternal demi-god named Juan, and his beloved Barbita arrived to constitute the sole foursome for the Friday ride. In a stroke of coincidence we were all wearing the same green and brown jersey. Remarkable. Without adieu I was rudely informed that the route had been chosen for me while I was indidsposed in that lovely flush commode that only Deer Park has.

We proceeded up Deer Park Rd. to Shaver and hung for a bit at Sky Oaks Rd. The Vizier, always cognizant of his Vizierly duties spotted a couple of mtn bikers he'd seen on the SR Bridge (in their truck) and putting two and two together asked them if they were from the East Bay. When they replied in the affirmative, the Viz, seeing an opportunity to solicit BTCEB members said "Hold on there, I've got something for ya." Asking Randy to get out his solicitation cards from the back of the pack, which Randy couldn't seem to find, the Viz noticed the first of the pair making as rapid a getaway as possible. The second biker wasn't far behind. Having a good laugh, Juan commented that if this was indicative of general East Bay mtn biker behavior I must have a bitch of a time recruiting new members. I replied that they are quintessential examples of the East Bay biker breed. (lack of) And yes, I do have a bitch of a time recruiting! (Membership 300 and climbing)

Shred stopped to photograph the deer on Bull Frog and the ride had already taken on an aura of totally relaxed fun. I was enjoying myself! Not having a clear memory of what this feels like, I got a little confused and thought for a moment that I must be dead and that I actually ended up in heaven. But then a rock bonked me out of my reverie and I returned to reality, however relaxed and pleasant, hence, disassociative it might be! On up to the ridge and up Loma Grande Mierda, Barb dabbed and I cleaned it along with Juan. Shred took pictures. Onward to Loma Pequeno Mierdita, and I dabbed on the easy part. I gave a "Mierda" for the sake of confession of my sin, but I didn't even feel bad! This was too much fun. Barb cleaned the whole hill but this just set up a truely rare occasion. The Dictator missed a move and dabbed the Pequeno Mierdita! This was cause for not chagrin, but celebration! Such a rare event! So "special!"

At Fort Repack we stopped for an out-of-the-wind break and those inclined sought spiritual sustenance along with the Gu's and Clif's. On our final ramble together to Horse Shoe Junction, I offered Juan a game of shoes but he informed me that the season is over once the soil hardens. I informed him that once my soil hardens the game has just begun. Parting was sweet sorrow, but I made up for it by deciding to make it a "short and sweet" and head directly for the Boy Scout Trail Franchise. Now I was alone and my relaxation became complete. I had nothing but trail, sun, breeze (gusts at times) and the sound of velociraptors crushing gravel for breakfast. The ride was without event, but the more glorious for it. There was nobody else anywhere around. I had the camp to myself, and I saw nobody until my rests stop at Pipecleaner Meadow. I had a Gu, and lay down for a nap! A cyclist came by, said "Hi!" and I dozed back off. This may have been the most relaxed bike ride ever. I was asleep! Nobody else was out on the trails and I finally went down Serpentine and out Goldman. Realizing that I had a sandwich I rode to the end of Goldman and sat in the meadow and ate lunch. (Ed. note: Is there a means of watering those two redwoods? They need it) Along came the same rider who had been going in the other direction back at the meadow. I amiably told him he should display his Tamarancho Pass (using a new twist on the assumptive close, which precludes allowing the rider to lie that he has one in his pack and puts pressure on them to get out their pass if they have one) but he just lied more creatively and said that he had just sent in for one and hadn't received it yet. Who knows? Maybe he told the truth. At this level of relaxation, I didn't much care. Back to Alchemist, and down and out. Sweet!

I met Paul Sanford at the entrance to Alchemist off Iron Springs and he informed me of the BTCM decision to ameliorate damage done by the "volunteer" trails featured recently in the IJ. None of his group of five were displaying their passes either, but by this point, with lunch coursing through my happily fed veins, I was too blissed out to get in to it. Are we the only people who like to show our passes? Or the only ones who have them?

STATS: 18.9 miles 2,450 feet of elevation gain A nice nap for 45 minutes Good company, good solitude. Good.

Eric Muhler The Grand Vizier

ericmuhler@btceastbay.org

http://www.btceastbay.org