Little Pink Lady

Continuing with my theme of cool rides for hot summer days, we returned to Kings Mountain today to make a loop near the coast. As we descended into the marine layer on Tunitas Creek Road, I was oh-so-glad that I had brought my jacket for this ride. Long-fingered gloves would have helped. When would the Bike Hut come into view? The road seemed longer than ever.

A couple of our riders were grateful for the hot coffee brewing inside. [Supported by donations, on the honor system.] As we continued to Lobitos Creek, droplets of fog condensed on my face. Winding our way over the coastal hills back toward Tunitas, the transition always startles me. One moment you're admiring a vast open space of rolling hills; the next moment you've crossed into the deep shade of the redwood canyon through which Tunitas Creek flows.

Ferns were abundant on the banks of the creek, but there was not much creek to see. A few puddles of water, here and there; that's all.

In 33 miles, we climbed a respectable 4,300 feet. We began and finished our ride in the town of Woodside, which is renowned for being more accommodating to equestrians than cyclists. Much to the dismay of the residents, their town is a gateway to fantastic cycling routes in three directions.

One block before the end of our ride, we pass in front of a local market to stop at a busy intersection. Uncharacteristically, there were no vehicles ahead of us. I watched as a young girl on a shiny pink bike with streamers tried to start up, wobbled, toppled, and righted herself. A worried glance in my mirror assured me that she would be safe; uncharacteristically, there no vehicles behind us, either.

As I rolled to a stop at the intersection, two adults with bicycles appeared. It was not clear whether they planned to walk or ride their bikes across the street; the safest thing for me to do was simply to wait.

When they started shouting at the little girl with the pink bike (their daughter, evidently), my heart sank. “Hurry up! Get out of the road!” Her parents were completely unaware that she was struggling. My ride buddy wryly observed that their parenting license should be revoked. I deeply regretted not stopping to help the child. This intersection, with its four-way stop normally clogged with impatient drivers, is no place for a tentative youngster on a bicycle.