Not Your Spin Class

As I cycled to meet up with my biking buddy, I passed a class in session at a spin studio that had hauled its stationary bikes outside, where exercise is permitted. Do they long to ride free when they see one of their kind pass by, as horses in a paddock might?

To each, her own; I prefer views of golden hills and blue lakes to a view of a parking lot.

My plan for the day was ambitious; if I managed to finish, it would be my longest ride of the year. I was short on sleep, but it occurred to me that being short on fuel was more responsible for my craving a nap under a shady tree. How did I not remember to fill one bottle with my electrolyte mix?

Our turnaround point was Uvas Canyon County Park, which is currently requiring advance reservations—for those who need to park a vehicle. We sailed right through, and saw more vehicles and people than we've ever seen there. Including some large groups with coolers and picnic gear, which ... is not yet permitted. [We kept our distance.]

One benefit of riding on our own is the opportunity to stop whenever we want, for as long as we want; we're not holding up the rest of a group. We've certainly passed this site before, more than a few times, without ever noticing it. The plaque describes the structure, made of stone from the “Goodrich Quarry.” Stone that was also used for notable buildings in San Jose and at Stanford University.

I was curious to learn about the quarry, but what I found was more remarkable: the story of Sarah Knox-Goodrich, a determined local suffragist. She was clearly a force to be reckoned with, in her time; and I imagine she would be, today.

I made it! All 54 miles and 2,055 feet of climbing of it (and, without giving in to a nap).