Saturday, March 27, 2004

Ride, rinse, repeat. Always repeat.

Today rocks.
I got up at 7 and managed to get myself into the gym. For the first time since being helped off of my motorcycle by the minivan in January. This is great. I've been feeling crap about this, and wanting to get in again.

Then home, then out to meet people at Alice's for riding.
Got onto 35, the road was wet. This is a good sign, less traffic this way. Yay! Into the parking lot, got my coffee and waited. Two tasty underage boys on dirtbikes (ok, so they're all tasty until the helmets come off...), followed by an older guy on a vespa (dad?) provided a little entertainment until the rest of the ride arrived.
After a little lolligagging, we were all together and ready to go. Tunitas was roundly dismissed by people who had harleys and passengers. After much discussion, I get bored and plug-in. I can't hear what is decided, I will follow. And we all take off, beemer guys and me up front, sportbikes and Texans in the back (As it should be!).
84 to Alpine to Pescadero. I love this road! Red beemer in front of me is making a good pace, what fun!
White beemer behind me, is, well, frequently visible in my mirror...
Pescadero to what I think may be Cloverdale, past a pathetic little bicycle race. These fuckers have a little ramp to start on. Can't even pedal to get started?!? ("Get a motor!") And it ended, I don't know, maybe a mile or so down the road. Weird.
Turn left at 1, then left on Swanton (I think?). White beemer has picked up the pace, Now they are both in front of me. Then left on 1, into Davenport for lunch. To realize that the sportbikes and texans have all cheated and skipped Swanton. Hmmm...
After lunch, 1 to Bonny Dune (another of my favorites). Passenger has moved to red beemer, so I get to watch Charles be a squid on his harley. Wave him past to watch him ride it race style up the twisties, and also with the hopes that I can encourage a wheelie. Fortunately, he is easily influenced to do bad things. Yay! Harley wheelies!
Bonny Dune to Empire Grade (I think), then down Jamison. Going downhill has always been one of my greatest weaknesses. I suck. But not so bad today that anyone passes me, or has to pick my bike up.
Fly down 9, past one, two, THREE cops. Turn off at 35, on my way home. Some asshole on a crap sportbike gets all pissy at me near the end when I pass him, starts riding my ass in the straighter parts. Listen, dumbass, the fucking CARS were tailgating you through the corners. Your skills are not strong enough to carry the weight of the chip on your shoulder.

And home again, getting shit done. I've been sick all week, and everything's piled up.

I'm riding tomorrow, details not ready yet...

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