August 31, 2019

Page Mill Pests

One of the downsides of being a slow climber is being pestered by bugs. Gnats. Little flies. Big flies. Sometimes the bugs eat you, and sometimes ...

There was an old lady who swallowed a fly
I don't know why she swallowed a fly ...

She swallowed a fly because the annoying creature flew into her mouth as she was crawling up another hill on her bicycle, gasping for air. [Didn't turn out so well for the fly, but I suppose the cyclist got a little extra protein.]

I haven't climbed Moody or Page Mill in years. I wondered if I could make it up Moody. [Yes.] Was it as grueling as I remembered? [Yes.]

As much as I wanted to descend the far side after reaching the end of Page Mill, to climb back up West Alpine, my ride buddy and I just couldn't bear the flies. With agricultural areas over there, we feared more of the same (or worse). My legs were done, anyway.

I suggested that we should descend straight down Page Mill, to make our ride a little longer (and to avoid plummeting down Moody, not one of my favorite descents). We ended up climbing 2,480 feet over 27 miles, which was enough. Maybe even more than enough.

August 24, 2019

The Descender

“That lady is fast!”

“She's a descender,” our ride leader replied.

We had been ready to move on after the last rider had regrouped, and there had been some chatter about who should go first. [I took off.]

I was puttering about at home this morning when I realized that today's ride would start at 9:00 a.m, not the 9:30 a.m. I had in my head. I scrambled to get myself together and pushed a fast pace to the start. Not the easy warm-up I'd planned, given that I'm slowly recovering from last Saturday's blood donation (my 77th!).

I rolled up at 8:45 a.m. and ... no one else was there, yet.

We enjoyed our snacks under the redwoods at Uvas Canyon County Park after climbing up Croy Road. The road had been damaged one winter, and somehow I haven't visited in more than three years.

There was some chatter about who should go first. [I took off. Again.]

One must always take care on the bumpy and rutted section through Sveadal, but after that ... well, the bike is fast. A little faster than I'd like, I was thinking, as I rounded a curve. I reminded myself that it was fine. Just fine.

The rollers slowed me down, and another rider caught up. “You're fast, downhill!” [And slow, uphill.] “And you're good!” Yeah, that takes 'em by surprise, since I'm nearly always off the back otherwise.

Somehow, we had headwind in both directions, which isn't fair! After I got home, I realized I needed to run an errand, and the obvious solution was to get back on the bike. [Eh, it was a flat few more miles.] For the day, 58 miles with 2,090 feet of uphill (and downhill!).

August 17, 2019

The Goldilocks Ride

I wasn't enthused about the challenging rides on offer today. One was too far away. One was too much like my commute. One was too steep.

One seemed just right: an easy ride with a leader I didn't know, who happens to lead a lot of rides. (Seventy-one this year, including today's.)

I knew it would be short, and I wanted to avoid the regular weekend traffic snarl, so I biked to the start.

The bike lane near the hockey arena (San Jose Sharks) made me smile. How many levels of approval did it take for that? [Maybe none?]

Our small group puttered down the Guadalupe River Trail, exiting for a coffee stop.

After which, well, things pretty much fell apart.

Our ride leader was certain that something had fallen out of her saddle bag and was determined to circle back on the route to look for it. She waved the rest of us forward, to continue on our own.

Without a route sheet.

I stayed with one guy who said he knew how to get back to the park in Willow Glen where we'd started. [Except that ... he didn't actually know.]

Lost in a maze of residential streets, we needed to find a route across the creek. [I pulled out my phone, which he characterized as “cheating.”] But I wanted to get home in time to get cleaned up and head over to the blood center to donate before they closed for the day.

A flat 40 miles, with a mere 440 feet of climbing (including one more wrong turn, my fault).

As it turned out, my timing was just right: The blood center staff had finally overcome some technical (computer system) difficulties that had caused them to turn away walk-ins most of the day. Donation, done!

August 10, 2019

Ribs!

Each year one of our members hosts an almost day-long barbecue as his team's fundraiser for the MS Society's Waves to Wine ride, and it's become a tradition for some club rides to meander over there.

I was well on my way to the starting point when it occurred to me that I'd left my donation check on the kitchen table. [Sigh.] Today's ride would be a little bit longer than I'd planned ...

Sometimes I find my fellow riders exasperating. Here they are, spread all over the road. Again.

After a nice ride with some mellow hills, I parted ways with the group to retrieve my donation. The roads were clogged with vehicles headed for the coast, so I was relieved to be pedaling past them. (Which was part of my motivation for leaving the car at home today.)

Our host was puzzled when I handed him the check. “How many plates do you want?!“ he asked. “Just one,” I smiled. [I had rounded up.]

The ribs were excellent, as always, and I arrived in time to chat with some of my riding companions. It was an unexpected treat to connect with some club members I haven't seen in some time, too.

49 miles, 2,160 feet of climbing (altogether) to earn those ribs!

August 8, 2019

Meeting on the Mountain

Back to the workday grind.

Wait, you say—that doesn't look like the office.

And, you're right! It's the Mt. Umunhum trail.

A colleague suggested that we cut out early, beat the traffic, and catch up in the car and on a hike (uphill, of course). Before our team was transplanted to a different office, walking meetings along a creek or toward the Bay were not uncommon. Now we're trapped in an office park surrounded by parking lots and freeway interchanges, without so much as a continuous strip of sidewalk. [Let's go!]

I was fascinated by this plant along the trail, which I've never seen before.

After three weeks away, it's taking some time to re-adjust. “Why did you come back?” he asked. [Good question ...] Because, well ... they're not going to let me stay there, are they?

Technical topics, trees, and trekking: 4.5 miles, 500 or so feet. Unfortunately, not enough daylight to make it to the summit and back down—but totally worth the walk.