Plein Air

Spinning in a studio is really not my style.

The first real heat wave of the summer was upon us, so a short morning ride seemed best.
Reynolds Road is always longer and harder than I remember. The top is just around that bend ... no. It's the next bend ... no. We had a tight group today, and for one rider it was a special trip indeed—especially the descent.

Two months ago, she had crashed here (over the edge, into the ravine) on the way down. The road is twisty, and steep; if you're inattentive, you can pick up more speed than you can manage.

It will take more than one trip on Reynolds to vanquish the fright, but she toughed it out. (I sent everyone else down first, because if anyone had an issue, there was no way I'd manage a hill repeat to help.)

Along the way we met five club members—one hiker, the rest on wheels. You'd think we lived in one small town, not a sprawling suburb-opolis packed with millions of people.

We finished our ride in a shady park filled with artists displaying their work (fundraising sale). They'd spent time in town over the past week, painting local scenes—some of which had already been snapped up.

Our hungry band of cyclists got lucky: Trader Joe's was supporting the event, handing out plates of cheeses, crackers, and grapes (complimentary!). Then we got even luckier: one very generous rider treated us to cookies and bottles of juice when he returned with his lunch.

18 miles of cycling with 1,730 feet of climbing—in the open air.