In-Croy-Able

It seemed like a good idea at the time ... ride to (and from) the start of today's club ride. Sure, it would add a pair of hills and some miles, but it would be about as fast as loading the bike in the car, driving there, and unloading it.

There were two problems, as it turned out: Too much heat and too few calories. Nothing to be done about the first; the second was simply my own fault. There I was at mile 40-something, feeling the bonk and estimating how many more miles till the top of the last hill. From there, the last couple of (downhill) miles would be free. At home there would be a nice cold It's It bar to revive me.

I was particularly not enjoying the ride on McKean/Uvas. So much traffic! Trucks, on a long holiday weekend? Where were all these people going? And in such a hurry? No one was doing the speed limit. Not even close. No one.

An over-sized white pickup truck passed me with mere inches to spare. As in, maybe a foot of clearance. Thankfully his side-view mirror was well above me, because I bet it would have clipped me. That close.

Approaching the intersection with Bailey Road, paramedics and an ambulance were on the scene. An officer was controlling the flow of traffic, reduced to one lane. Always a dreaded sight, even more so when you know that most of your cycling buddies were ahead of you. In this case, the crash involved only cars. Which, considering the way people were driving out there, was not a surprise. Not at all.

And their behavior regressed as soon as they rounded a bend, out of the officers' sight.

At the end of Croy Road, Uvas Canyon County Park was as refreshing as ever; what's not to like about enjoying your lunch at a picnic table tucked amongst the redwoods?

There was some beauty to be found along the G8 speedway, for those traveling at a humane pace: patches of Clarkia rubicunda tinting the hillsides pink. These were new to me; although I have cycled along this stretch of road many times, I haven't caught them flowering till now. Their common name offers a clue: Farewell to spring.

Not a hard route (52 miles, 2,740 feet of climbing), if adequately fueled. Note to self: Always bring more than you think you'll eat. Always.

That It's It bar helped. So did a session of low-power mode—about 45 minutes, stretched out on the floor. Farewell to spring.

Berry Berry Nice

Strawberry Fields Forever is one of my favorite local cycling events. When a few riders today asked me how many times I've ridden it, I honestly didn't know. [Seven.]

Calfee shares their space with us for the first rest stop, where we traditionally find Italian fare (including espresso machines) and a view of Monterey Bay. But no strawberries.

The course passes through agricultural fields of greens (and strawberries). Acres and acres of strawberries. It's a humbling sight, at scale; appreciate the human effort that brings these to your table.

In the first few miles I worked to get some separation from a pair of boys (and their well-meaning parents). I applaud them for tackling a 100 km route, but their road and bike-handling skills were dodgy (at best). By the time I reached the Elkhorn Slough, I was riding in near solitude.

Extended climbs took their toll on unprepared riders, especially leading up to the lunch stop. Some walked. A few were sprawled, napping, on the lawn. I was disappointed at lunch this year. Note to all event organizers: Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches should be prepared by people who eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, because they will actually put peanut butter and jelly on the bread. Luckily, I knew that the next rest stop, at Gizdich Ranch, would feed me well. No crêpes this year (sadly), but plenty of apple pie and fresh-squeezed lemonade and apple juice.

The strawberries (with chocolate ganache and freshly whipped cream) are last. It's important not to gorge at the post-ride meal, to save room for the berries. Lots of berries. Big beautiful red-ripe berries.

Pajaro Valley High School was built at the edge of the wetlands. Cliff swallows have established themselves in the eaves of most buildings. They're fascinating (but, messy). When I paused to observe their comings and goings, closer than they would have liked, most of the community took flight—swooping and swerving, at high speed, all around me.

This being the usual route, I cycled some 61 miles with 2,865 feet of climbing. I aimed to complete the course in under five hours (not including breaks, of course)—and I did. In fact, I finished in the second-shortest time of my seven rides, much to my surprise.

It was fitting, somehow, to tackle this ride without a ride buddy today. In addition to the seven rides I've completed, there were four I didn't start. Two were rainy days, and well, I just don't feel compelled to ride in the rain. But on this ride, I will always reflect on the losses that kept me away last year, and the year before. Forever.