Open Sky

On this Sunday of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend, we were going to brave the weather and either ride Kings Mountain in San Mateo or hit the trails in the Marin Headlands.

Through the night, I slept lightly, waiting for the sound of rain. I was looking forward to riding, but if the rain came down, I wouldn’t mind sleeping in either. The night only teased us with sporadic trickling, and I woke up several times in the early morning. The streets were wet, but it was not raining.

I kept busy checking the weather reports online, made scones and a coffee cake, and enjoyed a cup of coffee. The city looks gray, but there is not the rain and wind that the weather reports predicted. Oh well, some days are good for being an iron man, others are good for butter, sugar and a jolt of caffeine.

Cheers!

Scones in the morning

Wendy and I took a short trip down the Peninsula to the quiet town of Half Moon Bay. On a overcast slow Sunday afternoon, it was more quiet than usual. The turn off South 280 was surprisingly clear with nearly no cars in front or behind us on the single-lane route towards the coast.

We had a tasty greasy lunch at Flying Fish, a sitdown version of SF’s taco trucks. Fish tacos, fish and chips, and lots of grease. Good for the palate, not so much for the digestive system.

After a stroll along the quiet streets, we were determined to bring a little tree to decorate our home for Christmas. There were several farms along the way, and the one we chose was 4C’s. They had $40 noble firs or monterey pines, all giant for our standards. The old guy told us we could go cut ourselves one in the field behind the row of bushes. We walked through one side of the fields which were populated with everything from 3′ to 6′+. We chose several along the way, but we eventually settled for one that was about 4′ and more portly than tall and slender. It looked healthy and would cheer us up, but there was a bit of guilt that we were taking it off the farm where it could grow until next year.

But for $20, it made the house smell like Christmas. We got the lights and ornaments out of the mothballs. Soon, we’ll have stacks of presents to lay below the fresh scent of pine. Not sure if a plastic tree would be any better for the environment.

At the opening of the deYoung

I parked my beloved ibis mojo in front of the deYoung Museum for a day of professional development today, only to find nothing left but the krypto-lock cable cut clean and lying on the floor.

As if reeling from a dream, I first spoke to the security guards, whose reaction was “Damn, I have a lock just like that! I need to get me a new one!” They suggested I go directly to the police station. As it was 5 blocks away, I resolved to walk back home and drive back to the Richmond side, which was the nearest station in the area. It was getting dark fast, and my heart started to accept the reality of the situation. The officer was nice enough, but from his routine response, I doubt my bike will show up again.

I am going to be hurting for some time. I can’t even think of replacing my only mountain bike. For those of you who ride, especially who have a favorite trail ride, you’ll understand what I’m feeling. I always made sure I spent some miles on it every so often even when I was doing training for century rides. A mountain bike is a soul-mate for those endless climbs, a guide through the hairiest descents.

I’ll try remembering the good times we had. They’ve stolen my bike, but they haven’t taken the heart that still aches to get back on these beautiful trails!

This year I decided to support the BBP rather than ride it. I truly enjoyed every mile of the ride last year, even with the scorching heat and burning legs, I cannot find another ride that compares to the Buddhist Bike Pilgrimage in its incredible support, good company, and the time on and off the bike that I could place myself in the rest of this universe.
As a SAG, I was able to follow the ride, offer assistance, and ride along with Leon and Nikki as they took a break from their own pilgrimage. They made the first leg of the ride, some 30 miles. But with the temperature rising and the steady pace of the riders, Leon and Nikki got on the SAG and we had a great time.
At the last rest stop of Day One, there were so many people who needed to get sagged, Leon decided to get on his bike and ride to the finish. Nikki and I drove the last leg, circling around to pick up or provide water for the remaining riders. It was great fun for us as we sped around the corners, looking for riders, and breathing the warm air from wide-open windows.
We made it to the KOA camp and had a relaxed time. It was much different arriving there as a driver. Last year, I nearly cried seeing my wife waiting for me at the camp. In fact, I first saw our car, and then it didn’t take too long to find her. That was the best feeling. I’ve ridden many centuries much tougher than this one, but seeing her there at the end made it the best. She wasn’t there at the camp, but she came to meet us this time at the second rest stop in Petaluma. That was over an hour of driving north, and she brought sushi for us. I will never forget that. She was the ultimate SAG!
I don’t know what next year will hold, but I hope to be on the ride in some form or other.