Booties

Booties would have been good on the long ride. Numb toes. Otherwise, we did quite well with the attire. It was chilly and I never exactly felt warm, but I was never really cold, either.

Basta headed out with the boys. They were a nice group of guys, all local professionals, friends of Friend Randy. One had done the full Vineman a few years back and the half Vineman many times. The others were very good riders, used to this terrain of constant rolling hills. Off they went at a very fast clip. Poor Basta.

I finished getting myself together and then headed out on my own ride. Pretty county, Sonoma. Pity the motorists are so anti-bike. Really, you'd think the inhabitants of a place that was so obviously made to ride a bike in would actually encourage the endeavor, but no.

I rode here and there, having no idea where to go. Fortunately, it's all pretty. Randy had shown me a map and suggested routes for me, but I couldn't actually find the right road on the bike. Ah well. I didn't try very hard. Mostly I rode around at my own happy pace, thinking push -scrape - lift, push-scrape-lift -- oh, pretty vineyard! Push-scrape-lift, push-scrape-lift -- fall colors, wow! push -scrape - lift, push -scrape - lift -- yeah fuck you too, asshole. That stupid oversized pickup of yours doesn't make your dick one bit bigger, does it? Push -scrape - lift. Push -scrape - lift. Oh yay, coffee shop. Cappuccino time . . . I had a nice ride. 25 miles. Took about 2 hours of riding time, plus a half hour or so for the coffee stop.

The boys had planned to be back at the car at 1, and I made it there at 5 'til. No boys. I changed out of my bike gear, put the bike in the rack on the roof of the car (no easy task when you're 5'2"), and headed over to the park next door for a walk. 20 minutes later, I completed the loop around the park and could see the cars. Still no boys.

But shortly thereafter, a boy appeared. Then another. A few minutes later the third arrived. But no Basta. Everyone was all smiles, saying they'd had a great ride, good day, happy, happy. They said that Basta was maybe 10 minutes back. Randy had stayed behind to ride with him.

"So how did he do?" I asked. They smiled. They were very nice. No trash-talking from them. Or maybe they were just being nice because I'm a girl. One said he did fine. "He just needs more time in the saddle." Another said, 'Well, he's not a hill climber." The last said, "he did well to keep up." See how nice they were? The picture was clear, though. And exactly as I expected. He did it, because he's tough that way. I knew he wasn't ready for this ride, but I wanted him to be challenged. To realize that he's neglecting his bike workouts and this is going to bite him in the butt if he doesn't ride more.

Basta and Randy finally showed up, about 20 minutes after the others. Basta was tired but excited. He said he'd learned a lot. One that he needs more time in the saddle (Yes! No more skipped bike workouts!) Two that he can push his pace a lot more than he thought he could. Three that hills aren't so bad. He is slowly losing his dread of hills. Four that he really needs to build his leg muscle endurance. That relentless cadence thing is hard.

53 miles done, including the dreaded Chalk Hill. He did well, considering where he is in his fledgling bike career.

I feel like mission was accomplished. I really wanted him to ride with these guys to learn these very things. He's spent far too much time riding with me at my pace, and that's a bad, bad thing. He needs manly speed.