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Subject: Tuesday Ride Report Date: Fri, 30 Jul 1999 18:24:52 EDT
Stage 2874, but who's counting?
Franco's Diary: Mt. Val get's laid; China Camp Syndrome
The juicy part's true, but more on that later. The rig needed a consultation in San Rafael, and the Freakwheelers were riding short before tending trails in Novato, so China Camp it was. I decided to ride the whole thing.
(By the way, Mt. Val's above referenced descent into carnality did not occur on the ride, but is merely reported in this authorized biographical segment. But I'm getting ahead of myself.)
I was brave from the outset, and challenged security by parking in front of Performance Bicycles. Disguised as a cyclist going on a ride, I went on a ride, and attracted no attention.
So what's to say about a trip through China Camp? The bench is back, but you knew that. The descent of Bayview is swift, smooth, and a bit boring. I ran across a Trips for Kids party. (Many of you already realize that this is not organized acid trips for the young.) Then to the East Boundary, (where none of you have ever taken me,) and back to the other end by the salt grasses, with the intention of returning via Shoreline and up Bayview.
While climbing in meditation, whom should I see but Mt. Val herself! She had also been preoccupied with details, and unable to attend the regular festivities. She was embroiled in the 16th try at a certain switchback, which she had just conquered. We journeyed on together after appropriate embraces. I should have known something was up. She was definitely more huggy than usual.
We stopped for refreshments and gossip at the big picnic site. A couple of guys from Moab asked for directions. They only had 2 days in the area, and wanted the best cycling. I steered them towards Bolinas Ridge, Pine Mountain Loop, the Headlandsyou know the drill. They stopped me. They had already been discouraged from going to those places because they were not the hallowed single track. Hence, China Camp. Go figure.
But on to the moment you've all been waiting for. Me being me, I asked Valerie if she had gotten any lately. I seemed to recall a possible flirtation from Colorado. We had all had great hopes, in view of Mt. Val's known strong feelings on the subject.
Mt. Val's face reddened, and her eyes doubled in size. I knew I was on to something. Indeed, she had gotten some, and I was to be the first to know. Eat your fucking heart out Leah!
When I had first heard Mt. Val had cancelled the trip to Europe to rebuild after the fire, I presumptuously suggested that she view this as a time for an upgrade rather than tragedy, particularly since her losses were mainly covered by insurance. Little did I know how spot on I was!
Because of her missed trip, she was home to receive a call from her boyfriend of 40 years past. He came for a visit from his home in Santa Barbara. As they were getting reacquainted, he happened to ask if Val had ever considered getting married again. You all can almost feel her slapping her hand to the table in denial, saying "nosireehell no! I gave that shit up years ago! Never again! No more lovey dovey stuff..(etc.)" A mere 4 hours later Valerie's resolve was shattered during a purportedly moist extravaganza of passion that protocol suggests we not pursue further at this time.
So who is this consummatee who ripped asunder in 4 hours that which it took 8 years to bundle up? We'll call him Harlan(his real name.) I know not his vital statistics, except that he is over 6' tall, and 58 years oldtoo damn old for her, of course.
The upshot is extraordinary. Valerie is positively giggly. Her dalliance lasted for a couple of days, and was followed by hundreds of bucks in phone bills. (I forgot to ask about phone sex.) In a few days, she will head down the coast by bike, and will meet her paramour in Moro Bay. After a bit of a frolic, they will head south. I have already suggested that they stop and take a leak at the Madonna Inn in San Louis Obispo, although some people can't pee with tourists looking at them.
So there you have it. We finally turn to gossip to keep your interest up. Tomorrow, I'm off to the north for a spell, and will check in August 14 for about 10 minutes before my pilgrimage to Crusty Butt.
Happy trails,
Michael/Franco