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!

Couldn't stand the weather

Sunday saw a break in the rain and a birthday party for D____ (a family friend) being held at home. Rather than stay in and be clucked at by a houseful of biddies, I rode out.

Up and away from the coast, the fog broke. Roads first, to get places and see things.





I was denied access to the trails I was hoping to ride not once, not twice, but thrice. So it ended up being a bushwack like you read about. After the 3rd denial I rode a different route and attempted one of those trails I've ridden once or twice and never repeated. I knew where it went, but (again) due to the undergrowth all being dropped and the leaf-litter/rain-debris ever lesser trail looks as takeable as any other. So I ended up climbing topo line style around swales until popping out in the parky spread oaks up top. Startled the heck out of a couple bucks and we eyeballed each other for a while. The "regular" trail was easy to find from there.

I decided to visit a beer stash and take stock of the day's options. Put in a call to J____ J______ to see if he felt like a ramble and we formulated a plan. It occurred to me that if I took the alternate trail down- why, then I wouldn't miss the turns and I'd refresh my memory in the bargain. This did not work out as I'd hoped, and it soon came to bushwacking again. Thick, denuded scrub forcing me to hold my bike over my head type bushwacking. At least it was heading down.

A quick trip through Cside(!) picked up J and some supplies and we set out for Ord. We stopped at the gate above Fitch School to pop-a-top. Then T___ rode up and geeked out with us at the 2 Lynskeys (his and J's). We had never met (or seen) T___ before. He sure had a Sweet Ride (no picture?!)- a custom 29er with a shiny red Rohloff hub, which was inneresting. My favorite part of his bike were the custom Ti Black Sheep Marylike/Albatrosslike handlebars. I'd have been more into hearing about the Rohloff, but it was clear he'd been on it for maybe 20 minutes total at that point; I want to know how it holds up, not how it looks out of the box. No beer for T___, as he works at REI and his son-in-law is threatening his fitness. So to speak. I think T___ was thrown more than a little off balance by our combination of pastimes and wanted to get away.

Then it was another beer and on to some trails we'd never been on before, following T___'s tracks(we guessed-they were pretty fresh). We saw this:

and linked back up with the East garrison stuff we all know and love. Speaking of which: the surveyors are getting serious out there. Trees are coming down in straight lines all over. Locals, RIDE THIS GOOD STUFF WHILE YOU HAVE IT! Because soon it will be a memory.

What is this man doing with these ingredients?

We talked about Rohloffs and their pros and cons. I'm very innerested in a reliable internally geared hub for the Big Dummy. Then J blew my mind with talk of the Nuvinci hub. I was not aware of that.

I left home on the bike at 11am and returned on the bike at 10pm. That's a Good Day.