Dykes and Bikes
A ride down Memory Lane
Alisa: "Do you know him?" Me: "No, I just liked his jersey.""Claire! Your alarm didn't go off!" It wasn't quite light yet, but there was enough light to see that Shane was alarmed. We'd arranged to meet up with Kat for coffee at 5:30. Shane and Kat broke up 2 years ago, but that doesn't mean there's been any less drama between then and now. They hadn't hung out in months and he didn't want to miss the excuse to see her without having to break down and call her himself.
"FUCK!" I said, looking at my alarm. It was 5:15 and supposedly Kat would be here waiting for us in 15 minutes. That is, assuming Kat was up. Luckily she was up but still at home, which gave us a little while to pack our shit up and take the tent down. I don't usually drink coffee except for before races, but I figured that since I was on vacation, and technically this thing was like a giant race, I could have all the coffee I wanted. I didn't want to miss a chance for some real, good coffee.
When we got back we met up with Lorraine for breakfast, and when people saw our Pete's Coffee cups everyone wanted to be our friend and find out where a decent coffee place was. On the ride they were serving Maxwell House instant coffee. It might as well have been water. Food was prepared in a kitchen truck and served every morning and night out of giant aluminum pans under a canopy. At night the vegetarians had a separate line, but in the morning I had to get in line with everyone else and just say no to sausage and bacon. The plan was to ride with Lorraine and her crew, but somehow we got separated from them again. With 2,500 cyclists, that happens.
We pulled out onto the street and couldn't even clip in for a few blocks. Slowing. Stopping. Slowing. Stopping. Rolling. Stopping. There are 3 highways that lead out of Santa Cruz, and they all meet in one intersection. Our camp ground was only about 3 blocks from that intersection, and getting 2,500 cyclists through it at rush hour is something that someone should have thought of before now. Way back in the crowd we could see the light changing and changing, but no one was moving. People were getting impatient. As we got closer, someone saw that there was a roadie up there directing traffic and the word filtered back and we stopped grumbling. Well, everyone stopped complaining except for to one ass hole. "AW COME ON! MOVE PEOPLE! IT'S FRIGGIN' GREEN FOR CRISSAKES!"
"There's someone directing traffic," Shane said. The guy didn't hear him, and went on complaining. "There. Is. Someone. Directing. Traffic." Shane repeated. The guy made a few more snide comments, but eventually the guy next to him said, "No, dude, really, there's someone up there directing traffic," and he shut up.
I wish we'd taken a look at the rout before we left in the morning so that we could cut out most of the Slowing. Stopping. Rolling. Stopping. It took us even longer to get out of Santa Cruz than it took us to get out of San Francisco, and they chose some of the most trafficked, worst paved roads in Santa Cruz with some of the narrowest lanes to do it. The asshole was still behind us, and when someone rode by way out on the left he yelled, "I wonder if that yahoo knows that we've ALL thought of doing that!" Like that guy was getting away with something? Like Mr. Personality was supposed to get an award for outstanding behavior for waiting around with everyone else? In the safety video the Kindergarten Teacher had explained to us, "Remember, 1-1-1." (she shows her index finger 3 times for effect). " It only takes one rider, in one town, having a problem with one local, and it could be the end of the ride. So please, if you see someone who is not riding courteously or safely, please remind them: 1-1-1." We continued along at a snail's pace, and eventually the asshole DID try to break away, only to scare the shit out of someone in a pickup truck who flipped him off at the next light. The asshole flipped him off back.
"Hey man, you really shouldn't do that!" someone said.
"It's just reflex," the guy scoffed.
"Dude, I was about to 1-1-1 his ass!" Shane said later.
Now in our third town of Slowing. Stopping. Rolling. Stopping! we got to the Ugly Mug, a coffee shop that had sponsored an ALC team, including our friend Meg (who you will meet later). The Mug was offering free drinks to cyclists, and while most people stopped for a free drink, Shane and I pushed on ahead to get out of the madness and away from 1-1-1 guy.
Giant cut-outs of people somewhere near Salinas. These "people" must have been 20 feet high. I have no idea what they were there for.
After the not-so-safe Safety Corridor"You're supposed to put your foot down at the stop signs," she sneered back. I'd come to a complete stop, but clipping out is such a pain in the ass.
"Thanks, next time I will!" I said, trying to hit the tone of voice right so that she would think I was serious, without while I would still know I was being sarcastic. Damned good thing, too. Apparently the "Safety Vehicle" was right across the street at the next stop sign writing down rider numbers for people who didn't put their foot down. I did just to make a point to stupid Alaska girl, but Lorraine's friend Trish wasn't so lucky and found a ticket on her bike the next morning. I assume the tickets work like warnings, 2 or 3 strikes and you're out.
I got into the rest stop just as Lorraine and her crew were leaving. "Nooooo! That's not faaiiir!" I whined, so Lorraine stayed back while I refilled my water bottles. I was surprised when we pulled back out again that I kept pulling away from her. I'd only ridden with her once 3 years ago, but I'd had to pull over for a breather on an uphill, and she'd dropped my sorry ass on a steep, technical downhill. I'd assumed she'd always be faster than me. I've talked about Lorraine here before. She's the ultrarunner who is older than my parents, a faster runner than I am, and (I always assumed) a better cyclist. Pretty soon we caught up with her crew and rode with them all the way to lunch.
"You guys are going slooooooow!" I whined. "Is that because you're old?" This is something that Lorraine and I can joke about. I just assumed that that kind of joking would be okay with the rest.
From left to right: Trish (mother of 3), Power Lesbian Shannon, One-Liner Nerine, Lesbian Alisa, Lorraine, Me, ShaneMe: Well, you already know me.
Shane: Who you know pretty well by now. He was one of my best friends from late college and thereafter. Our lives just seem to follow similar paths, and somehow we still manage to see each other at least once a year, no matter where we are living at the time.
Lorraine: Who alternates between role model, mom, and friend. She lives her life in reverse. She was serious when she was young, so now that she has all life's mistakes behind her, she's being young and having fun. She spends all her time running on trails, mountain biking, road riding, and racing in really beautiful places. I often channel my inner Lorraine to make important life decisions.
Alisa: Who you've met: the outspoken lesbian.
Narine: The master of one-liners. She was the slowest rider in the "Old Ladies'" group, but she was ubiquitous. I saw her everywhere. "Stop following me!" she said each time. I never got to know too much about her personal life. I DO know that she does Crossfit.
Trish: Trish was a mother of three and sweet as anything. She's one of those people that just seems so nice that I'm afraid to hang out with them because I'm just going to look like a jerk.
Shannon: I don't know how Shannon knew Lorraine's crew, but she knew Shane because Shane knows ALL the "power lesbians" in Santa Cruz. "Power lesbians" is a term that Meg (who you WILL meet soon) coined to talk about the L-Word clique of hot lesbians in Santa Cruz who all lead dramatically cool lives and have all slept with each other at one point or another. I recognized Shannon when we were introduced. She didn't recognize me. "Did you ever you never go to the Dakota?" she asked. Dakota is the dyke bar in Santa Cruz.
"I was there almost every weekend," I said. "It's okay, a lot of people didn't notice me there. I have hair."
At lunch I was pretty excited about being the fastest one in the group. I was genuinely surprised that I was faster than Lorraine and Shane, and enjoying feeling like I was competent at something. I did a lot of outright bragging, thinking that everyone knew I was kidding. I have a problem with that a lot, especially in California. I assume everyone knows I'm kidding, and everyone else thinks I'm serious and sits there stewing thinking, "What the hell is WRONG with this girl?!" I later found out that that's exactly what Alisa was thinking about me at that very moment.
"If she were really all that, she wouldn't need to brag about it," Lorraine muttered to Shane.
Meanwhile, I was off somewhere saying, "And I'm faster than YOU, and I'm faster than YOU, and YOU, and YOU..." When I heard Lorraine's comment I knew I'd laid it on too thick, but that wasn't for another day or so. I quit bragging right then and there, but I had to point it out after another day because no one had noticed. I guess they'd already decided I was a jerk.
We were already almost half way to LA when Lorraine said to Alisa, "Have you noticed that Claire stopped bragging. She wanted everyone to know that." After that people were nicer to me.
But for the moment I still thought I was the shit. We were riding through dry, dusty fields and there was a tremendous tailwind. As we were pulling back out onto the road I asked the Old Ladies, "Do you want to play my game? It goes like this..." and I reached out and poked Alisa in the ass. "Now you gotta catch me!" I called over my shoulder and sprinted off. I'd been playing that game with Lorraine and Shane every time I passed them in the last couple of days.
"There she goes," said Alisa. No one sprinted after me. High on life I let the tailwind carry me through the fields at speeds in the mid-20's. Between rest stops volunteers were holding out Red Vines and I grabbed them. It was a piece of cake! I was going to do those bottle grabs like a pro at Vineman this summer.
Do I have shit in my teeth? Noooooooo, because I just FLOSSED!The next rest stop was at a vineyard. I was slightly disappointed that I didn't have to wait ages and ages for everyone to show up. As we parked our bikes Lorraine said something and smiled. "You have shit in your teeth," I said. I would want someone to tell me if I had something in my teeth too.
"So do you," she said.
"Really?" I said, curling my lips around my teeth. "Where?"
"Eeeeeeeverywhere," said Shane, waving his hand around his entire face to show that I had Red Vines stuck in my teeth up to my eyeballs.
"Well what do I do?!" I asked. "I can't swish with Power Ade, it's red!"
"I have dental floss," offered Power Lesbian Shannon.
"What? Like ON your bike?!"
"Yeah," she said, like it was perfectly normal and reached into her seat pouch and pulled out some mint floss. Talk about random...
Shannon convinced us that we HAD to stop at the next rest stop at a mission a few miles away. The mission offered free post cards and there was a banner for people to sign, but Shannon was most excited about the Otter Pops. "Two years ago when I did this I tried to ride with my Otter Pop in my mouth. Not a good idea. I fell off my bike going like 20 mph and got all cut up. So finish you Otter Pop before you get back on the bike!"
When we got to the Mission we laid our bikes down in the dusty lot and Shannon went to get an Otter Pop, while Lorraine danced with some bears in skirts. I followed Alisa, Trish and Narine into the Mission where we signed the banner and wrote some postcards in the cool shade.
Lorraine dancing like a crazy lady with some bears. Look how hard the wind is blowing!Back out on the road I started to pull ahead again and was surprised to see that Shannon was keeping up. Shane I could understand because he's doping, but Shannon? She was right, you're stronger if you finish your Otter Pop before you get back on the bike. I slowed down a bit to talk to her and she told me that the next stop would be skinny dipping. I was ambivalent. "I don't know, I've been single for a long time, and there are just certain things you let go when you've been single for that long..." I said.
Then we turned a corner, and the wind that had been at our back was now blowing us off the road. It was crazy! It must have been over 20mph, and it kept grabbing our bikes and throwing us at the field next the road. I'd never ridden in a crosswind so strong. I almost lost Shannon for a little while, but then she caught up at the swimming hole. When we got to the skinny dipping river, it was down a steep gorge with a bridge over it. A roadie stopped us and made us wait before crossing the bridge. In a minute a school bus crossed, and then another one. The kids on one side of the bus were smiling and waving at us, but the kids on the other side were still trying to see over the edge of the gorge and giggling. They'd seen something in the gorge that was WAY more entertaining than a bunch of bike riders. I would hate to be the principal of that school the next day when all the angry phone calls start coming in!
Lorraine was waiting on the other side of the bridge (I forget how she'd gotten in front of us), and we decided that the water was definitely not deep enough to be worth it. There was some doubt about whether it would even cover our tits if we were to sit down in the deepest part, and climbing down that steep grade in bike shoes didn't sound like much fun. So we rode off together through the final 10 miles that were like a roller coster, a whole series of quick downhills that pushed you all the way up the next uphill. "I see you slowed down," Lorraine said to me, in the sarcastic tone I expected for all my bragging.
"Well, I got lonely," I said. "And Shannon was kind enough to keep up with me."
"You've slowed down now, but I almost puked trying to keep up with you before," she said.
"You did not!" I said. I was pleased. Someone had almost puked trying to keep up with me! Someone had clearly thought that I was worth almost puking to keep up with!
Worth noting was Rest Stop 4. The guys who had been dressed as badminton players the day before were now dressed as beauty queens. They were all in wigs and prom dresses. One had stuffed her belly and her sash said MISSed MY PERIOD. Another was dressed in an orange jumpsuit and a mullet wig and was holding handcuffs. Her sash said MISS 20-40.
We got back to camp so late that day that by the time we'd pitched the tent, showered, and eaten, it was almost bed time. I sat up for awhile talking to Lorraine, while Alisa went off to find the 12-step meeting that someone had arranged in camp each night. How cool is that?! Alisa and Trish knew each other from AA. Alisa never wound up making it to her meeting, but that's a story for tomorrow...
Total Distance: 105.4 miles
Total Time: roughly 5:51 in the saddle (I don't know for sure since my Garmin ran out of batteries)
Average Speed: roughly 18 mph
Map:
In real life we rode all the way to King City. My Garmin didn't make it that far.
Elevation Profile:In real life we rode all the way to King City. My Garmin didn't make it that far.
Splits:
Related posts:Dykes and Bikes
A ride down Memory Lane
2 comments:
" Lack of Safety Zone" Sounds like some of the roads I've ridden back home. But I'm amazed that you were holding close to 20mph even in crosswinds. You'll defintely have a good ride at Vineman. Also if your down for a ride in Freetown on Sunday let me know.
Bears in skirts? I think I missed something.
Kicking everybody's butt and letting them know it...making friends, left, right and center...eh? ;-) Was this also the time when you were talking about kids and what you thought of them or is that coming up next?
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