Asti Tour de Vine

This event had not been on my radar (but now is).

I learned about it by sheer happenstance, when I squeezed onto a bench next to a couple of riders at Gizdich Ranch earlier this year. They were enjoying their first Strawberry Fields Forever ride, comparing it to (and highly recommending) the Asti Tour de Vine.

Previewing the route we'd take through the Alexander Valley—with a stop at Lake Sonoma—brought back fond memories of the long-ago second-day route for Waves to Wine. Today's starting point was above the northerly end of that route: Cloverdale was new territory for me.

It's a small town, with a stunning church. Presumably old, but I couldn't spot a cornerstone.

I was impressed with the route, which included areas both familiar and not—and very little traffic.

We even rode past a local purveyor of windmills! [How could they know?]

With the grapes harvested and the tourists gone, this promised to be a good time for biking in wine country. [And it was!] With predicted temperatures in the 90's, we were motivated to keep moving to be done before the hottest part of the day. Added incentive for me was to test myself in advance of next Saturday's big event. Today's route would be a bit shorter and decidedly flatter, but could I hold myself to a brisk (for me) pace?

And the rest stops! Hearty breakfast at the first stop. A revelation at the second: “Acorns.”

1. Pierce one end of a donut hole with a pretzel stick.
2. Smear the other end with creamy peanut butter.
3. Dip/roll the sticky end in chocolate sprinkles.

[This is why we bike.]

Each rest stop was lovingly decorated and showcased a different beneficiary of the local Rotary Club (which was hosting this event).

After waiting longer than expected for my chief biking buddy to reach the third rest stop, it occurred to me to check my phone. She'd missed a turn! Unclear on whether she was backtracking or riding the route in reverse, I lingered at the next two rest stops before concluding we'd just reunite at the finish. The day was heating up; the home stretch was fully exposed to the sun, but mercifully short.

A feast awaited! Salad, pasta, pulled pork. Wine and beer (for those so inclined). One of the women serving us interpreted my jersey as a joke, advertising the (Pescadero) Arthritis Classic bike ride. I suppose my hair color played into that. [It felt rude to set her straight, so I just smiled.]

This ride is a keeper: I liked the size (small), the route, and being part of a field of courteous riders. [Not to mention the food.]

I completed 65 miles with about 2,000 feet of climbing and didn't feel spent. Next week's ride seems ... doable.