Great report, Anne -- sounds like a wonderful ride. -----Original Message----- From: rbw-owners-bunch@googlegroups.com [mailto:rbw-owners-bunch@googlegroups.com] On Behalf Of Anne Paulson Sent: Wednesday, August 07, 2013 9:27 PM To: rbw-owners-bunch Subject: [RBW] La Ruta Loquitica (The A Little Bit Crazy Ride)
Every time I read about one of Manny's adventures, I think to myself, "Wow, that's too hard for me, glad I didn't do that one." But Jim Warren asked if I were going to ride this one, and then I wanted to reward myself for finishing up some programs, so somehow on Monday morning, there I was at the Mountain View train station, waiting to take the train to San Francisco and adventure. You dudes with all that upper body strength don't have to worry about this, but I was worried about even getting my loaded bike onto Caltrain. The bike cars I'd been on in the past have four very steep steps you have to carry your bike up. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to do that. (For good reason, as I found out the next day.) But, happily, the bike car that arrived was a different sort, where the rider just had to lift the bike up one tiny step. And, at nine in the morning, there were a whole bunch of cyclists waiting to do just that. As there were also a whole bunch of cyclists already on the train, embarking resembled a game of Bike Tetris, with bikes and riders crammed in the aisles, and much shifting at each station. Fortunately the other cyclists were patient with me and my difficulties maneuvering a bike loaded up with rear panniers in the cramped quarters. By the time we got to San Mateo where Jim Warren was to board the train, the herd had thinned and he was able to find a space with no difficulties. Once in San Francisco we went on to the Ferry Building and Pier 1 to meet up with the famous Manny and the other riders. The Ferry Building is foodie heaven; we stopped there for a bite to eat, and to get some provender for the ride. Manny pooh-poohed the idea that we needed food, but was overruled. I had awoken early to finish packing, ride to the train to take the hour and a half trip-- breakfast was a distant memory by that time. We proceeded through San Francisco, over the bridge (which sucked, as usual) and down through Sausalito, where we stopped at a bike shop. Sadly, none of us could fit in the handsome wool tweed riding breeches that were on sale-- perhaps no other riders could, either, and that's why they were on sale. We continued on to Mill Valley, for another stop, to meet another rider, for a cheese and fruit snack and for purchase of more food, some to eat then, some to bring, plus various beverages of an alcoholic nature. Manny pooh-poohed the idea that we would need anything for breakfast, saying that we'd have a downhill trip from our campsite to the Pelican Inn where we would be able to have coffee. I like coffee at breakfast but I like breakfast food as well, so I nevertheless brought food, as did others. When you read the description of the next day's ride, you will notice that there were no places at all to get food. So, if you are on a ride with Manny, it can't hurt to bring extra food, as indeed he always does. Now it was time to start the dirt... and the ride was pretty much all dirt from then on, until we got back to the Bridge the next day. We started up the east side of Old Railroad Grade. The trail was fire-road width, not too steep, but the surface is sharp pointy rocks. I was glad I had installed the Marathon 1.6 tires on the bike, but realized as I jounced around on the rocks that 75 psi was way too much air. I kept letting out more and more air. On our way up, we met up with our last rider. Now we were seven, with four Atlanti, Jim's Hunqa, a Hilsen and another fine non-Riv entrant. Of our four Atlanti, three were the original green (mine is purple) but only one of our forks was the original color: we had a kaleidoscope of green, purple, orange and blue. Odd. (And I'm sure Manny will have pictures to prove this.) At West Point Inn, at the top, I was thinking that the climb would have been iffy with narrow tires. But then, who should arrive at the top but a fit-looking Bridgestone RB-3 (?) rider on narrow tires. Clearly, this dude was a skilled rider to be able to navigate the rocky surface without getting pinch flats. We all stood around for a while appreciating each others' bikes, then descended to the campground. The campground seemed oddly wet. Hmm... I didn't think it had rained, but our campsite was muddy. Oh well. We set up camp, and stuffed ourselves with various cheese, bread, sausage, fabulous pastry and other good stuff people brought. And then it was dinner time, but having eaten all that other food, I didn't feel like eating the sandwich I had lugged up there. Manny made a little fire, expertly, as it began to get dark. There was much talk around the fire, and drinking of the aforementioned spirituous beverages, but then it started getting cold, and I'd been up late the night before and up early that morning, procrastinating about packing and then finally packing, so I headed off to my cozy tent. In the middle of the night I heard what sounded like raindrops plopping on my tent. Oh, fog drip, that's why the ground was so wet, I thought, and went back to sleep. In the morning, the fog drip was still dripping. It was amazing: my tent fly was soaked, yet a few yards away, in a clearing, the ground was dry and dusty. Some of us didn't have tent flies, or hadn't put them up. Oops. If you're on the Pacific Coast or the Coast Range north of, say, Morro Bay, you'd better put your tent fly up at night. It can get wet. The morning was to start off with the simple trip down to the Pelican Inn on the Coast View Trail. Not so simple for me, since it was a dirt singletrack 1000 foot descent, with some mud and some rocks, and I had pretty much never descended on singletrack before. All the guys waited for me, as they ended up doing all day, because I also had pretty much never ascended on singletrack with a load either. Sorry, guys. And note: if you have never descended on singletrack before, the Coast View Trail is a good first descent. It's not very steep or technical. The beefy Marathons once again proved their worth. We arrived at the Pelican Inn, to find that they don't actually serve breakfast, except on weekends. Nice place. Clearly they cater to middle-aged Silicon Valley professionals. I felt right at home. I managed to sweet-talk them into giving us coffee. And then, more single track, this time up, the Middle Green Gulch Trail, which starts right at the Pelican Inn. Nice trail; there was pushing involved. Down the Coastal Trail, which, thank goodness, was a fire road instead of more singletrack. Then I though we were done climbing on dirt, but oh no, we went through the stables and up another trail. Jim described it as having stair steps. I thought that was a description of the variable steepness, but not, the trail has sections where there are logs across it every ten feet to control erosion: stair steps. Some I could ride over; others required pushing. Then we dropped down another fire road, took a tunnel, and all of a sudden we were at the Golden Gate Bridge. We could see the boats on the Bay, including the ridiculously high-tech Americas Cup catamarans zipping around. All that dirt allowed us to avoid the tedious riding through the Marin suburbs. Unfortunately, it didn't get us across the bridge. Whatever genius decided it was a good idea to put travelers together with sightseers on one sidewalk should be shot at dawn. I wonder how many accidents occur on the bridge sidewalk. Probably a lot. Anyway, we got across. Yet again, I was last, and everyone else had to wait. Sigh. Someone has to be last, I tell myself. Manny told me the way back to the Embarcadero, but I managed to get lost anyway. I guess the bike detour signs didn't apply to me. But then, once I was found again and passing Fort Mason, I noticed that there were grandstands to watch the Americas Cup qualifier race, with announcers and a big screen and everything. One of the things I like most about bike touring is the ability to stumble on something interesting and check it out. So I stopped there to have lunch (the sandwich I was going to have for dinner the night before, coming in handy at just the right moment) and watch the pre-race maneuvering and the first few legs of the race. At Fort Mason, the boats are right there in front of you; it's amazing, and free. I recommend stopping by, if you happen to be cycling that way. Those boats zoom at 35 mph, and they're almost always on the edge of catastrophe. When I made it to the train station, I was a little too close to the edge of catastrophe too. (Did you like that segue?) This time, the bike car required me to carry my loaded bike up four steep stairs. It turns out, I can't do that; in fact, after I unloaded the bags and threw them up, I had a tough time with just the bike. Luckily the conductor let me make two trips unloading when I got back to Mountain View. Great trip all around. For me, it was an adventure. Some of us need to plan an adventure for old and slow people, so we don't feel bad slowing up the fast guys. Bring wide tires and a can-do attitude. -- -- Anne Paulson It isn't a contest. Enjoy the ride. -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "RBW Owners Bunch" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to rbw-owners-bunch+unsubscr...@googlegroups.com. 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