David Gaus led this month’s Jersey Ride. Besides David it was Roger Sayre, Roger and I, and guest David. We did a few nice diversions from the usual route, the Corte Madera-Larkspur path around the Corte Madera Shopping Center, and because it was a beautiful day after lunch we also trucked up into Belvedere to catch the great views of Sausalito and the Golden Gate Bridge, and finally instead of returning on Washington Blvd. through the Presidio, we dropped down Battery Caulfield to 14th and then back to Golden Gate Park. There were a billion other cyclists out and about.

Since the June Jersey Ride the City of Tiburon actually repaired significant sections of Paradise Drive. It’s not a full repaving instead being a patchwork of long sections of road that now have pristine asphalt. There are still degraded bumpy sections but it’s a lot less jarring (and annoying) than before. Wow. Maybe someone read the ChainLetter blog and saw my complaint! The other notable improvement was the return on the Bridge. It’s still jammed full of visitors looking uncertain, steering their rental bikes the way a fish swims upstream. but this time it seemed less dangerous. The equipment bulb-outs are still egregiously wide but perhaps the brisk breeze deterred the tourists from literally casting their fate to the wind because I saw not one with a phone or selfie stick in hand as they pranced across. I still wonder how many ambulance calls are made on weekends for the west sidewalk though.

Whatever illusions you might harbor about being able to Consume Mass Quantities because you cycle your pretty ass off, the truth of the matter is that bad eating habits are just that regardless of how praiseworthy your Strava KOMs/QOMs might be. There are a lot of cyclists (and runners and triathletes and swimmers and…) who regard their exercise as carte blanche to indulge in uninhibited voracity. For some Spokers having discovered they like to ride bikes is like a second Coming Out. But instead of the bathhouses it’s the nearest Burger King. And lord knows there are a lot more BKs and KFCs out there than there are saunas. Cycling might do wonders for your cardiovascular system. But weight? I’m not so sure. Cycling’s ugly secret is that riding often means more hunger and that means more eating with little effect on your waistline. You didn’t know cycling is a zero sum game, did you?

You know how those pro racers stay so trim? It isn’t just mega miles—it’s also adhering to very restricted diets. You know, the kind of diets you used to try and you absolutely hated. As in: being hungry all the time! Those low body fat numbers come from serious pushing back from the table and that takes real will power. Which is why cycling with the goal of becoming fabulously thin is elusive. Somehow the effort of cycling is supposed to supplant the effort of not eating while hungry. Hmm.

Which brings us to how we ended up at Gaumenkitzel last weekend for Oktoberfest. There are no illusions on Social A rides that your butch quotient is going to go up nor is there the sense that you’ll be able to throw giant wads of spaeztle or potato salad down your gullet without consequences. On Social A rides hedonism isn’t given an excuse, it’s a fact of life! No need to do penance for sin—we just sin with abandon. Our inclinations are distinctly Dionysian rather than Catholic. And that supermodel who claimed that “Nothing tastes as good as the way thin feels” is laughably disproved every time we eat at Gaumenkitzel: thin doesn’t stand a chance against the delicacies from the kitchen there! German food is the new thin.

The ride to Gaumenkitzel started with a single pedal stroke. And given the lack of hills—well, there were two actually—it didn’t take a whole lot more than that to get there. There’s the hill over St. Stephens between Lafayette and Orinda and then the short, nasty hill in El Sobrante just before the Starbucks hovers into sight. The ride was an exercise in herding cats, with one person after another missing the start and then missing the meet-up point. When all was said and done Roger and I were eventually joined by Suzan, Thomas, and David Goldsmith, with Roy and Bill just giving up and not making it. David’s husband Chris met us at Gaumenkitzel. He’s obviously a very bright person because he figured out that absolutely no cycling was necessary to enjoy Gaumenkitzel. The ride down the Ohlone Greenway didn’t take long—it’s a straight shot being underneath the elevated BART tracks. It’s a corridor well used by cyclists and pedestrians to get around the East Bay suburbs, not unlike the Iron Horse or the Contra Costa Canal trails. It’s perfect for leisurely cycling but you’re not going to set any speed records on it nor should you given its mixed use.

At Gaumenkitzel our table was waiting. The menu had a few Oktoberfest specials. Roger and I had to indulge in their German potato salad with pickled carrots and pork patties (it tasted much better than it sounds!). Chris had their delicious Jagerschnitzel. David had a plate piled with sausages. Others were more restrained. The food was delicious and filling. It was the kind of food you lingered over and definitely not something to dine and then dash off. Fortunately it was a short, flat roll from there to Rockridge BART requiring just enough effort to forestall food-induced lassitude. It was miles ahead of Burger King in taste but in calories probably not any less. Too bad Strava doesn’t have food KOMs!

Warning: this is an insipid rant.

Everything was “set” for the reopening of Calaveras Road, right? Until it wasn’t. After getting multiple assurances from SF Water that it really, really, really was going to reopen on Sunday, September 30, David Gaus beat me to the punch and posted a ride traversing it that day. That’s cool–we’re going to ride Calaveras, finally! Today I get an email from SF Water that, well, Calaveras really isn’t going to open on 9/30 after all. But it really, really, really will reopen Friday, November 2! Unless it isn’t. [Update: it’s now set to open on Saturday November 3.]

That’s been the story for a long time. SF Water always finds some reason not to open Calaveras. Although the closure is an inconvenience, what is more than irksome is the repeated obfuscation on the opening date and then reneging. Like a kid who just can’t stop lying, there’s little credibility in their press releases.

This is the last major road in Northern California that has not reopened after the winter of 2016-17. Even Highway One, which was inundated by over three million cubic feet of landslide was cleared and rebuilt before Calaveras. The winter damage to Calaveras was certainly a convenient excuse for SF Water to shut down the road to all traffic so they could try to catch up on their way-behind-schedule dam reconstruction.

Hey, SF Water, Calaveras is not your private road.

On the most recent Social A ride the topic of conversation was…retirement. On club rides you never know what you’ll end up chatting about. More often than not it’s the usual stuff—bike porn, catching up with recent life events, and politics. When I was younger it was usually a running commentary on the hot men we saw as we pedaled along, club gossip, and who was too hung over from partying last night that they missed the ride. But on this ride we broached a topic that never would have passed our lips in the early days of the club. Boy, have things changed. Back in the day the senior crowd in Different Spokes was really small. Only Walter Teague and Gene Howard and maybe a few others were retired due to age. I wouldn’t say the club was uniformly young, but the age distribution was probably centered on the mid-thirties. That isn’t the case anymore and it wasn’t the case on this ride! We were a decidedly older group even if we weren’t all retired.

What provoked the talk was Roy’s imminent retirement and move to Thailand. Retirement may be common but moving overseas to enjoy it much less so. He’s been planning it for years and he’ll be heading for that distant shore this fall. Perhaps we’ll see a local chapter of Different Spokes soon in Chiang Mai? Joe and Lamberto are talking about retiring to Panama or maybe Colombia so notes had to be shared with Roy. Why Thailand? What’s the cost of living? Weather? Many ex-pats there? etc. etc. Roger and I commented on the numerous retired Americans we saw in Costa Rica enjoying the tropical clime and idling away the day playing duplicate bridge. Howard chimed in with his research on retirement communities in the Bay Area. Tiring of maintaining his home he’s thinking of following the Den Daddy’s lead and ditching the single family dwelling with all its irksome repairs and unexpected expenses for essentially a condo that the association maintains so that he can enjoy his idle hours in play rather than work.

In what has to be a record that one topic consumed the *entire* ride and it was the most voluble and chatty Social A ride in history!

Roger and I—as well as those who participated last year—breathed a sigh of relief when the weather forecasts for the Orinda Pool Party & Ride all came in with moderate temperatures. Last year we endured a sweltering 100+ F day that had the girlie men and manly girls cowering in the shade licking the last drops of water from their bottles; we even took an emergency rest stop at a convenience store to stick our heads in the refrigerated coolers and buy additional cold drinks. In complete contrast this year we had perfect weather from start to stop. Those who came from locales without a real summer gasped in awe at the sunshine and lack of fog we have regularly here in Contra Costa. Some remarked that they saw shadows for the first time in months; others with pale and ghostly complexions finally understood what “sunscreen” was needed for. No need for windbreakers yet no need to break into an unsightly sweat either—it was Goldilocks weather.

Fourteen came to ride and due to the lack of a suitable volunteer to lead the Daddy route, it was summarily cancelled with nary an objection. Those who expressed an interest in proving their girlihood by tackling Daddy were either too intimidated or awed by Daddy’s very big—some would say Huge—climbs and decided that they’d rather have a date with the Twink whose charming good looks were much more appealing than Daddy’s rough demeanor. Pinehurst was beautiful as ever with its towering redwoods providing the illusion that one was riding in Humboldt rather than in the center of the Bay Area. The sun broke out over Oakland and Berkeley as we rode along Skyline and Grizzly Peak Blvd providing beautiful vistas both west and east (well, except for the layer of smoke ominously hanging over Contra Costa). Roger Sayre and David Goldsmith did leader duties and kept everyone safe and in line by cracking their feather boas. Back at the manse Roger and Jim completed final decorations to have the lunch setting suitable for kings and queens. Nine additional folks decided that riding didn’t seem nearly as alluring as reclining on a chaise longue by the pool with a fabulous view of the garden. When the riders arrived almost everyone ended up in the pool for more than a refreshing dip—it looked like actual conversations were happening—and lingering by the pool became the highlight of the day despite the lack of hunky pool boys and girls to entertain by cleaning the pool…slowly.

Those of you who had better roads to ride missed out and you’ll just have to wait until next summer. Maybe there will be a menu refresh too…

“The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.”

The Pride Ride is a fairly new Different Spokes regular event, offered every year on Pink Saturday. Back in the day there was no Pride Ride for the simple reason that the club used to have a parade contingent (with float!) and run a booth at Civic Center on Pride, and preparation consumed all the energy (well, at least until party time Saturday evening!) The turnout for the Pride Ride seems to run hot and cold, probably partly due to the weather and partly due to whether folks flee the crowds and weekend festivities or dive in deep. Last year it was just two people including the ride leader. But this year we had 15 cyclists turn out including at least one non-member who saw the announcement of the SF Pride website; David Gaus posted the ride on Facebook and that probably brought out the numerous ALC folks. The weather, lucky for us, cooperated with fine, sunny skies and moderate temps making a stroll through San Francisco a real delight rather than a struggle.

For me the highlight was seeing some old faces: Ann Dunn, Laura Petracek, and Nancy Levin. Ann isn’t a “real” old-timer since she joined in 1991 but she qualifies in my book because she was a member during the club’s heyday with Bike-A-Thon (also in the Den Daddy’s book because he invited her to the Old Farts Ride). I hadn’t run into her in several years, the last time being when she showed up unexpectedly on a ride I was leading in Orinda. Ann was one of the strong women who knew how to put down the pedal in earnest. Many former members of Different Spokes such as Ann drift away from the club; I’ve never gotten around to asking her why. For some the club is a temporary port—cycling served a purpose in one phase of life and then it no longer did—but cycling is no fad for Ann; she’s in it for life. She showed up at the Pride Ride on an upright hybrid with flat bars and flat pedals rather than her racing bike. She confessed to me that she had crashed no less than three times in 2016 and since then has been rather timid. We commiserated about the indignities of aging that make cycling in our dotage a real challenge. Of course, once we were afoot she promptly went to the front, flat pedals and all! I love it when we oldies can fool fate maybe just for an afternoon and pretend we are young once again by dropping you youngsters!

Laura Petracek also drifted away from the club. She came to the club through CAR or ALC, I forget which. But having a hectic job—at a prison no less—and taking care of a family meant she was riding less and less. But now she was back…with a new job and a new hip! She is just six months post-surgery from a hip replacement and here she was riding her bike. She did pretty damn good for just the fourth time back on the bike. She may not have been the fastest (well, actually she was the slowest) rider but she kept a steady pace all the way back to Peet’s. One of the things I love about Laura is her undeniable positive attitude despite all the crap she’s had to put up with. And she never complains.

Nancy Levin has been pretty scarce on club rides recently. She’s another Spoker who’s had some unfortunate crashes and has gotten a bit gunshy. But you couldn’t keep her away and she’s back riding again. Nancy is the Ann Dunn of this era: she’s often the lone female who shows up on a “boys” ride and isn’t afraid to do the nasty up Mt. Diablo or any other ridiculously hard ride. Nancy also likes to bike tour, so we’ve had many a conversation about international touring as well as the state of the club while we’re climbing together.

The Pride Ride careens around the west side of SF, through the Presidio, Golden Gate Park, down the Great Highway and up Mt. Davidson. As you would expect from a large group the pace was all over the place. Some blasted away and others strolled but we had several regrouping spots that gave plenty of time for chitchat, posing, and looking fabulous. Eventually we all assembled again at Destination Bakery for well deserved noshing and a long break. By the end it was just Roger Sayre, David Gaus, Laura, and Roger & I to head back to the Castro. When we hit Valencia Street the relative quiet we had until then was replaced by rampant car traffic, most of which was making its way to the Castro for Pink Saturday and the Dyke March. The only misfortune was David getting ambushed with a flat on Valencia just before the end. The Pride Ride may not be a long ride or a hard ride but it put us all in the right frame of mind for Pride Weekend. See you next year!

I don’t remember my first Tiburon loop. I moved up to San Francisco in 1982 and although I was mainly into running at that point in my life I still rode my bike on occasion. As running injuries mounted I decided to go back to cycling and surely did the Tib loop on my own. I do recall that my first Different Spokes ride was—what else?—Tiburon loop! During the time I lived in the City I did the loop regularly as do many of you. It’s a convenient, medium-sized ride that gets you out of the urbanity of San Francisco into the sub-urbanity of Marin, which at the time seemed like a godsend. Plus, you got to ride over the Golden Gate Bridge; even on a bad day the ride over the bridge is scenic and rewarding. In those days the club had frequent Decide ‘N Rides on weekends—people met up at McLaren Lodge and jointly decided where to go—and more often than not we ended up doing the Tiburon loop. Why exactly Tiburon loop became the ‘default’ ride bears some pondering but other rides seemed either too short or too long. Even in those days before the tech explosion, life in the City could feel busy and pressured, and the Tib loop was long enough to feel like you did a “long” ride but short enough that you could get home and get your weekend shopping and chores done.

In the time I lived in SF it felt like I’d done the Tib loop a thousand times. It got to the point where I would grudgingly do it simply because it was there and not because it gave me much enjoyment. It was a convenient training loop if a little dull. Why we didn’t ride south of SF more often seems strange in retrospect. But I do recall in those days getting out of SF by Skyline or Highway 1 meant nasty car encounters and lots of broken glass and that likely discouraged us from heading south except in a car to get to the Peninsula to do some ‘real’ riding.

As I mentioned in a previous blog posting, when the Jersey Ride was created in 2001 initially there wasn’t a set route but it quickly settled on the Tib loop. I never went on a Jersey Ride exactly because it was the loop; it may have made the perfect route for an all-club ride but it had worn out its welcome.

With Joseph’s long tenure as Jersey Ride Coordinator coming to an end, we’re continuing the Jersey Ride/Tib loop but now any club member can volunteer to be the ride host. It’s the perfect ride to try out being a ride leader because just about everyone knows the route anyway and it’s hard to get lost! If you’d like to lead the Jersey Ride, shoot an email to me. Over the next few months we have board members volunteering to lead it. Last month Roger Sayre, our secretary led it, and this month Roger and I co-led it. In July and August David Gaus will be your host.

In the early Oughts I moved to the East Bay and I hadn’t gone back to SF/Marin to do the Tib loop more than two or three times. One time was to show it to Roger and another was—finally!—to attend a Jersey Ride about five years ago. So getting to lead it was–surprise surprise–something I had never done before. After a prolonged absence I can’t exactly say it felt like riding a new route; in fact it was depressingly familiar. Not depressing because it was unpleasant but depressing because I didn’t feel a blast of excitement at riding one of the signature rides of the Bay Area. It was as if I had just ridden it yesterday (for the millionth time!) Where was the awe? Another example of familiarity breeding contempt.

But that didn’t mean I didn’t notice the changes that have slowly washed over the ride. The passage of time has brought some changes into ugly relief. Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge is a lot more dangerous than twenty years ago. There were an unbelievable number of cyclists on the west sidewalk, practically an unbroken line both north- and southward in the afternoon. It was very difficult to pass slower cyclists without taking unwise risks, i.e. riding three abreast. Making matters worse the storm fencing along the outside reduces the rideable width of the sidewalk. The west sidewalk has always had an inordinate amount of “furniture” compared to the east sidewalk. But now there seems to be even more equipment piled up so that at times it feels exceptionally constrained. And lord help you if you’re heading southward and you’re foolish enough to draft someone and carelessly drift to the right because it’s hard to see those equipment bulb-outs until you’re almost on top of them! Although Blazing Saddles rentals have always been numerous, they’ve been joined by an equal number from Sports Basement in the Presidio. All we could see heading towards us were SB and BS handlebar bags. I didn’t see any crashes but the onslaught of casual cyclists mixing it up with testosterone fueled Rapha bros had me wondering how many ambulance calls are made on a typical Saturday. I especially loved the Blazing Saddlers who were rolling along iPhone in hand videoing their ride.

Besides the increase in cycling traffic I noticed the awful condition of Paradise Drive. In the late ‘80s it was mostly repaved and made for a smooth, fast run into Tiburon. It looks like it hasn’t seen a paver since. When you ride the same road day after day you hardly notice the slight deterioration—you just get used to it. But bouncing over the potholes and deep ruts after years of being away, well, let’s just say it wasn’t like it used to be.

On the positive side there have been some nice improvements. The Mill Valley-Sausalito bike path now has speed lights, a roundabout, and a 10 mph limit at the sewer plant. Having nearly been hit a couple of times by cyclists coming across from Strawberry or being walked into by clueless pedestrians, those are all welcome changes. Doug and Sal suggested we take the Corte Madera-Larkspur path on the other side of Camino Alto. Is this new? If not, no one in the club knew about it back in the day. Although Tamalpais Drive isn’t bad to cycle on, the path is a more pleasant alternative to get away from cars albeit more roundabout.

Of course the other part of a ride is the company, and this time it was very simpatico. We stopped for lunch at the Woodlands Market just across the street from the defunct Shark Deli. We sat outside for an hour noshing our sandwiches and talking about nothing of significance, the conversation wandering from the trials of airline travel, the state of the SF Symphony and SF Opera, where to get one’s bike repaired in SF, cycling in Japan, Doug’s wheel saga, and how awful traffic in SF is these days. Back in the day club conversations had a tendency to devolve to the latest club gossip and who was seen with whom. Another welcome change? Eventually we hoisted our sorry rears back onto our saddles and made back to SF with a short detour via Strawberry Cove. Like a supermodel who is past her prime, Tib loop may be overdone and overexposed but at least it’s easy on the eyes, still fabulous, and waiting for the next photo shoot.