thrill girls of the highway

Stop.

Collaborate and listen.






No one wants advice, only corroboration? Truer words, my friends...



Meet planned (Ha! plan.) at 8AM, with a 9AM roll out...

At 8:17AM I received the 1st call. They were almost ready...as soon as C____ (The Skipper) got there, and loads his stuff in they'd be ready to leave. From Santa Cruz. 45 minutes by fast car.

As my sweetie says," You know these people. It's not like it's a surprise."

Eventually we all congealed and began our Little Tour by promptly splitting into 2 groups so that the trailer faction would miss out on the sweet sweet singletrack sneak, but also miss out on the gate hopping and rooty, droppy downhill. We had plans (Ha! plan.) to regroup at The Running Iron in Carmel Village. Things went swimmingly until KB's disc brake pad sheared off it's backing and we had to turn around and go back down that hill to see if I had a replacement pair on hand. Luckily, I had. We turned around and went back up that hill towards the pay dirt:

The Skipper mans the helm.



The set up...

How it's done.



Booyah.



Cat like.



Riding loaded on singletrack is a pure joy. That's just a True statement.




The Skipper and I were on the same frame. Team green and orange, laying down the attacks.
All.
Day.

After we hit the pave again, it was all business until we reached the Village, and then it was a different kind of business as the monkeys flew in different directions. The trailer contingent was at the planned (Ha! plan.) rendezvous, but the rubes from Santa Cruz had stopped short. I found them at a grocery store, buying/packing food for the rest of the tour. And as much I have to admire the strategy (though I'd find it hard to cope with the uncertainty) I will say if I had been on the perpetrating end, I'd have communicated what was going on to the other members of my party rather than leave it to them to ferret out where I had changed the plan (Ha! plan.)- That's just respectful.

With the herd of cats together again, we began what felt like the 2nd day; the ride out the Valley proper.
That section of road is little traveled and lots of fun. I began to die a little at the 1st serious incline, just before Tassajara Road.



I died a little more,
and then some more until the top:

...arriving from the West.



...a gratuitous shot of the East, and our rollicking swoopy, twisty downhill.











An important turn.





We stopped at Noggle's Place, in order to be creeped out by the rural collection of figurines and to buy party supplies. I took pictures of folks' rigs.

Team Fargo. Mine (against the tree) was as you see it. No packs for me! Let the bike carry it. (ask me later how that isn't always the best) The Skipper's sporting 2 panniers, a bag full of HQ (bag, pad, bivvie sack), and what some people call manly footwear. Plus a daypack.


Black Cat Bicycles represents. 2 panniers and a daypack.

Leave it to the frame builder to ride the jankiest (looking- in actuality this is a fine hand made steel bicycle which has withstood more abuse than is asked of many a fancy looking) rig around...and with an 1x8 Alfine internal. T___ said he wouldn't choose that set up if he'd had his choices (he didn't; there was a SNAFU getting his/hers touring bikes back from UPS en France. Lesson: make sure your bike travels with you) but that hub stood up to a beating. I'd have no qualms about putting one on a townie and riding the ish out of it.

And since J__ is 1/2 that team, she was on an unexpected rig as well. I knew the story, but even so- in the back of my mind I pitied her her little bitty wheels and heavy, unnecessary squish. By the morning of Day3, when I was looking down the barrel of a steep Big Sur fall-line, I understood how wise her choice was...and check the super compact load. She had a daypack as well.



K____'s street smart ride. 2 panniers and a tent(?) bag. I'm surprised she carried anything given N___'s position in our convoy; he's a trailer drivin' man. Perhaps her bags were full of nothing at all?

OK, some things.

KB ties it together in style. Super minimal. Plus a messenger bag full of beer and ?
Check the suicide front shifter.

The light was on/off this late in the day behind all those ridges.


We made our way into the backcountry

passed the Horse Bridge just before dark and promptly set up camp...


...Sorry I had to break your super comfy thermarest padchair, C____. Guess you should have showed up on time!