No Peaches Here

Our cycling comrades arrived late yesterday afternoon, with epic tales of their own to share. (They had worked a side trip into their journey south, to bike a rarely-visited road.) Spoiler alert: It was windy.

We caught up, poolside, with snacks before feasting on sandwiches that one of our crew had coordinated for us. [I'm so lucky to be a part of this party, as a party-planner I am not.]

As we completed a round of introductions, a guy piped up playfully from the far end of the pool to introduce himself. In the small-world, truth-is-stranger-than-fiction department, I came to learn that he's in executive management for a large firm, running an organization responsible for the same line of work I'm in. Compounding the oddity of all this, I had recently interviewed an applicant from the staff he proudly crowed about—and [spoiler alert] he did not do well. [This, of course, I kept to myself.]

A surprising number of folks on this escapade are riding e-bikes. They have been well-behaved, though—not zipping ahead and leaving the strictly human-powered bikes in their dust.

Nonetheless, the group fractured; a planned regroup went awry when the venue was closed and some stragglers were left behind. An alternate winery (Opolo) was proposed—and happily welcomed us; fortunately, I was part of the group in sync with the new plan. As folks settled in for a full-on lunch, my chief biking buddy and I bid our farewell and headed back to town. We'd find something to eat there before heading back to the Bay Area.

Having biked Peachy Canyon on my last trip to this area, I expected it would seem at least somewhat familiar. [But it was not.] Largely because much of today's route was entirely different, but in part because we rode it from the opposite direction.

We biked 41 miles and climbed about 3,500 feet before shedding our sweaty bike clothes for street clothes and starting the long drive home.