Time for Tam

Having climbed three of the four major peaks in the Bay Area (Diablo, Fremont, Hamilton), today I conquered the fourth: Mt. Tamalpais.

I was riding in the second annual San Francisco Cycle for Life event, raising funds for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. At registration, the number they assigned to me just happened to be the year of my birth (an auspicious sign).

This was a very small event—about 150 riders spread over two routes, 35 and 75 miles. I saw only three other women tackling the long route. (The woman in the leather shoes, knickers, and blouse evidently opted for the shorter route on her pink bicycle with the fenders, racks, and basket.)

Fast Freddie Rodiguez led us out, and what a good sport he was. Having learned the importance of starting near the front in an attempt to stay in contact with the pack, there I was, riding with Freddie.

Cruising past Crissy Field, Freddie fished his cell phone from his jersey pocket and drifted left. Phone call? No. He wanted to take pictures of us!

I can do this, I'm a professional.

We all laughed.

On my way up the mountain, an elderly passerby remarked:

You've got big ones.

In that compliment, he was referring to a particular anatomical part that I (of course) do not have. A sensitive part that some of the guys around me were complaining about, when they thought I was out of earshot, as we bounced along the rough and bumpy roads.

Alone with the fog and the towering trees on my slow ascent, I heard the loud buzz of engines approaching from the other side. It was a sound not pleasing to my ears. I switched off my video camera, expecting a string of motorcycles to fly past. In that, I was wrong. I switched the camera back on. Some were part of a group that is organizing to raise funds for a good cause, too. But my ears are tuned to a deeper roar.

Ostensibly doing this ride with a team from work, I wore my logo jersey. A cyclist from Wells Fargo started chatting with me.

I love Google Maps on my phone!

He stayed with me until we reached the summit road, then diverted to a restroom. I descended toward the coast.

In Stinson Beach I met a couple of cyclists from our club, heading south on the last leg of Sierra to the Sea. I knew I was having a great day, despite a fitful night's sleep, when I saw the road sign "Jenner: 45 miles" and thought "Hey, that's not so far ..." But, I stayed the course.

Biking up Mt. Tam at a recreational pace? Not difficult. Negotiating a safe route through busy little towns? Much more challenging. Farmers' markets. Tourists. People parallel-parking SUVs, more or less badly. In the tiny hamlet of Nicasio, I supplemented my rest stop fare with a cupcake from a bake sale benefiting the local fire department (our first responders), but left before seeing the bride and groom emerge from St. Mary's church.

The route back to San Francisco snaked through one charming town after another, largely following Bike Route 20. Fairfax. Ross. San Anselmo. Larkspur. A passing cyclist greeted me:

Hey, I know you!

Not well enough to know my name, thankfully, since I was drawing a total blank on who he might be. In the population-dense Bay Area, what are the odds that you will cross paths with anyone you know on a bike ride, miles from home?

The greatest challenge of the day loomed ahead. Not the strong cross winds gusting off the Pacific. Not the short steep climb out of Sausalito. It was ... the bridge. The Golden Gate Bridge. The west sidewalk, reserved for cyclists, is presently closed during construction. Traversing the west side against the flow of wobbly tourists on Blazing Saddles bikes is hard enough. On the east side, add pedestrians to the mix, walking in every unpredictable direction and stopping randomly to snap photos. In picture-postcard weather, it would be best to dismount and walk.

The only turn I missed was the last one. I zig-zagged around buses, cars, and people to exit the parking lot at the other end of the bridge, but had to puzzle out the proper way back down the hill to our starting point.

Another beautiful bicycle ride. With the same amount of climbing as last Saturday's route (4,280), but spread over some 76 miles, I managed an average pace of 12 mph. Not too shabby.