Twelve came for the ride and five more for the après-ride festivities for a total of 17 this year. I’ll admit that after last year I was ready to put the OPP on hiatus—we’ve been doing it for several years. But Roger insisted that we do it—not only does he like to throw a party but it is, after all, about giving back and making a contribution to the club. So on it was. Months ago we figured that August would be the best time to host the party, that month typically being quite warm. However last year it was coolish and windy, and this year lightning almost struck twice. Luckily this year the overcast broke up at the beginning of the ride and it warmed up enough that the San Francisco contingent actually got to experience near ‘tropical’ (by their standards) heat—it must have been 75!! In any case the pool was 90 degrees and lounging was the order of the day rather than swimming laps. With the repaving of Wildcat Canyon we reverted to the original 30-mile loop: up Pinehurst, north on Skyline and Grizzly Peak and back on Wildcat. Pinehurst, a beautiful climb through the redwoods that culminates in a lung-sapping 14% grade, wasn’t enough. So for extra credit most of us did Manzanita, a very short 16% grunter that immediately starts at the top of Pinehurst. The ride along Grizzly Peak and Wildcat, both recently repaved, was gloriously smooth. Then we took the back way on El Toyonal and did a little cyclocross to arrive at the house. Most everyone jumped into the pool after the ride and enjoyed the sun. There was plenty of food and drink, including a host of chocolate and sweets. Unfortunately it had to end and folks then had to complete the ride by descending down to BART to catch the train back to chilly SF. Next year!

Wildcat Canyon Road, the shining example of road budgets gone in the toilet, has just been repaved. Wildcat is one of two major cycling connector roads from Berkeley over to Orinda (the other being Tunnel Road). If you’ve ridden the Fall Social ride over the Three Bears, then you had to endure traversing Wildcat to get there. Despite being in tenuous shape even 25 years ago, it had not been repaved until now. Finally. I had long ago given up hope that the City of Berkeley was ever going to scrape up the money to fix Wildcat’s horrendous condition–rough, eroded asphalt with constant gaps and cracks that had one hunting for relief from the incessant juddering. Ironically a cut made in the road a decade or so ago for a sewer or water line–and thus “newer” pavement–was the smoothest part of the tarmac one could find. Unfortunately it was often smack-dab in the middle of the lane. Riding Wildcat on a stiff, rigid frame with 23mm tires was guaranteed to be an unpleasantly memorable experience. Despite it being in our backyard, Roger and I had given up riding Wildcat in disgust because, well, it’s literally a pain. In fact, the reason we changed the Pool Party route last year to go further south on Skyline was specifically to avoid riding on Wildcat. But with the new road surface, this year’s Pool Party ride is going back to Wildcat! Roger and I rode it a few days ago and the road crew still had not striped the median divider and the shoulder lines. What was it like? Like buttah! You wouldn’t recognize it! And this was no cheap slurry seal job: Berkeley did the right thing and actually covered the entire width of the roadway with new asphalt. With Grizzly Peak Boulevard having been repaved last summer (and still in excellent shape), this year’s ride is going to be smoooooth! See you there next week.

In other road news Alamo Boulevard, which is the section of Danville/San Ramon Boulevard in the unincorporated town of Alamo, has also just been repaved. About 12 years ago Contra Costa County slurry-sealed it and did, at least by cycling standards, a barely adequate job. Prior to its remediation it was typical suburban pavement: basically smooth but full of slowly growing cracks. The county did the minimum to seal the cracks–it simply slapped down a thick layer of slurry on top. It didn’t even try to cover the full width of the roadway and worse it was lumpy and rough. It was as if they rolled it with chains; it was “distressed” in more ways than one. I’m not really sure why the county decided to repave it because the slurry job had held up fairly well (by automobile standards). But like Wildcat this time it was done right: a chip-seal surface with a final fine asphalt on top to give it a very smooth surface. And, they did it the entire road width. A few days ago the striping was completed. Note that this is only on the Alamo section, i.e. not in Walnut Creek or Danville. But those cities maintained their stretches and the roadway was in excellent shape. Now when you hammer down to Danville for an espresso and panini, you’ll be able to enjoy the smooth ride as you dodge the ninnies in SUVs. Like buttah!

Finally, the other major section of road recently being repaved is Mt. Diablo Boulevard in Lafayette. The section that has just been completed runs from near the Lafayette Reservoir into downtown. The roadway was generally in decent shape but a series of construction projects over the past decade had degraded the roadway with cuts, erosion due to heavy truck traffic, and debris. The worst of it was, of course, the bike lanes and shoulders.

The Ladies Who Lunch ride last Saturday visited Khyber Pass Kebob in Dublin after a leisurely roll down the Contra Costa Canal and Iron Horse trails. This easy meander brought out seven folks including the Den Daddy Derek Liecty, Adrienne Ratner, Roy Schachter, me, and Roger; Derek also brought along two of his friends, Fred and Bryan. As if to underline the relaxed nature of this ride Roy rode his forty-pound bike equipped with a large lock and an unusual noseless saddle, which several curious folks had to try (“Why, you can swivel your hips while pedaling!”) The Iron Horse trail’s north origin actually begins some distance away up near Highway 4, so we started at the Concord BART station because, well, it’s just easier, and because it’s a hop, skip, and a jump away from the Contra Costa Canal trail, which intersects the Iron Horse. Those of you safely ensconced in Babylon probably are not aware that Contra Costa county actually has several canals and quite a few multi-use paths other than the Iron Horse. And, all of them are dead flat (well, almost). Because they crisscross the county locals use them not just for sport but for getting to where they need to go; they’re highly functional.

Saturday was warm and sunny, not unusual for the East Bay, and it brought out the masses: walkers, doggers, joggers, bladers—the usual gamut. As we got closer to Danville the crowd homing in on their popular farmer’s market made slaloming on the trail necessary. We stopped for coffee at the Peet’s nearby, which is the local cyclists’ hangout. Since the Amgen tour was going up Mt. Diablo that day, a huge crowd of local butchy racers and pseudo-racers were gathered to fuel up for the climb, talk smack, and preen before the horrified normal café regulars. Lest we forget, everyday people are generally either amused, bemused, or aghast at all that flab (or conversely, patent anorexia) in Lycra.

We made our escape and continued south to our lunch. And oh, what a lunch it was! Situated in a nondescript strip mall in Dublin, Khyber Pass Kabob is easy to miss and looks like any of the thousands of low-rent ethnic restaurant starving for clientele that populate odd corners of the Bay Area. Unless you live in the Fremont or Milpitas area, Afghani food is rather rare to find (the big exception being Helmand restaurant in San Francisco, which has been around since the 90s). Most of us have to live with the middling stuff purveyed by East West Foods at farmers’ markets and also sold at Costco.  But not today. Khyber Pass is a small, semi-hole-in-the-wall but the food is exceptionally yummy. Although they have quite a few vegetarian dishes, their lamb is really the bomb. The best is their chopan kebob, lamb steaks with a tantalizing rub, served with basmati rice and tomato. I had the quabuli pallow, which is a tender lamb shank in basmati rice with raisins and carrots.

Along with lunch came a mixed salad and an Afghani pudding, firni, which was interesting. Haagen Dazs will not need to be looking over its shoulder for this threat. We also ordered doogh, a yogurt drink, to share around the table. Seasoned with cucumber and mint, it was refreshing but because it wasn’t sweetened it was more like a thin summer soup than a beverage. Khyber Pass Kebob’s bolani bread was heavenly—I could have eaten a couple of plates of it alone. Theirs is far better than East West’s; in fact, they’re just two different animals. Khyber Pass Kebob spices theirs and can adjust the heat to your preference. Plus, it’s fresh out of the oven.

In contrast to a typical Different Spokes mid-ride lunch, which tends to be as hurried as a triathlon transition zone, we stopped for a full hour to relish our food, chat, and relax. After lunch it was less than a mile to Dublin BART—easy on the digestion. Several of us forwent BART and returned on the Iron Horse at a slightly higher clip—Derek at nearly age 81 was clocked at 23 mph—but not too hasty a pace as to have us get a second unintentional serving of our lunchtime repast.

Where will the Ladies go next? Stay tuned…

Cycling on the San Mateo coast can be dismally cold when the marine layer is thick and the sun nowhere in sight. Ah, but when the fog fails to roll in and the sun shines brightly it can be pure heaven. That was the case yesterday with our second Different Spokes weekday ride, which went from Half Moon Bay down the coast and then returned on the back roads of San Mateo County. The route was a club favorite: from Half Moon Bay we rolled 22 miles down the coast past beach after beach to Gazos Creek Road. From there we turned inland and took a series of old roads—Cloverdale, Stage Road, Verde, Tunitas Creek, Lobitos Creek, Purissima, and Higgins Canyon. A couple were flattish but most of them were real grunts uphill (and down) albeit not too long to kill the buzz. We had a moderate wind from the northwest that whisked us southward as if we had legs of steel, and since the return leg was slightly inland we didn’t have to suffer the indignity of a withering headwind.

Riding on a weekday instead of the weekend meant we escaped the typical horde of city folk rushing to the beaches; traffic was agreeably light and the line at Norm’s Market in Pescadero, our lunch stop, was—gasp!—nonexistent. At times it was a hammerfest but mostly it was taking in the exquisite quiet and beauty of rural coastside San Mateo piano. It was 54 miles and 3,800 feet of elevation gain. Stay tuned to the Different Spokes Ride Calendar for the next weekday ride…

Member Janet Lourenzo was kind enough to pen her experience at this year’s Cinderella Classic. Janet, like literally thousands of other women, took the start line of the 2012 Cinderella only to be driven to abandon the ride after torrential rain and hurricane-like winds made the event a literal wash-out. 2013 was much kinder to her! With no further ado…

One year has passed and the Cinderella was scheduled for April this year after the proper drenching of 2012. So, although I was determined to do the whole enchilada, it occurred to me that I hadn’t ridden this many total miles since the Cinderella of 1994!! The last twenty years have not been especially kind to me in a manner that would warrant such an escapade, but I had big plans for this year after buying my first carbon bike. The Princess should at least try to live up to the glittery fabulousness of the chariot, no?

So this year’s Cinderella was merely a warm up act for future (read: harder) events later in the season.  My goal for Cinderella was just to endure the hours, to find out if I could sit (ahem) for that long, and to test if the various body part surgeries could hold up to such repetitive use. My training plan (read: fantasy/dream) was difficult to complete, as we all know the bone-chilling winter we had this year. My longest ride had been a mere 50-something miles, and I remember feeling trashed afterwards! In fact, I confess to being just a mosey-around-Tiburon-sunny-day kinda girl! My twenty-odd-miles lifestyle does NOT equal a metric century video game-style route around tutus and boas!

Resolved to my fate, I met my group of fellow Cinderellas very early that morning secretly wishing I was on the Different Spokes Evil Step Sisters’ lovely jaunt in Marin instead!!! We adjusted our tiaras and headed out under cloudy skies after the obligatory photo posedown!!! The ride itself was thankfully uneventful (no tits up at all) with the exception of a young girl who had a nasty sit-down next to a curb, resulting in a banged-up knee. Speaking of knees, I had on knickers for the cold and the pressure on my bum knee forced me to do a Lycra rollup by lunchtime, but I avoided the fashion police by skipping the next rest stop!

At one point after lunch I felt I was bogging down, especially on one infernal grade. Then like a vision from my past, in a stupid wide brimmed hat there was my coach Ted Fisher (he coached the Different Spokes women for the Gay Games 1994)! I reached the top of Lemon Drop Hill and typical Ted, he yelled at me to keep going. But I stopped anyway and gave him a hug, got my lemon drop and felt much better! Echoing in my head for many miles later was Ted’s voice, “GET ON THAT WHEEL”, “PULL THROUGH”, “GO NOW, NOW, NOWWW”!!!!

Alas, my understanding of a metric century was that it would be 61-something miles. This error in calculation—the Cinderella is actually 65 miles—was a psychological blow to me at the 62-mile spot, and the final three miles were TORMENT!!! It’s amazing what the mind/body connection can do in such times, but in this case I couldn’t reconfigure my mental state and I unraveled in the final moments. My knee was screaming and I was cursing the organizers for yet another intersection with a long stoplight. Where were those course marshals?? Mileage was the great unknown—well, at least for the last twenty years—and I was mortified that I had to go even one inch further! In the end I did keep to higher cadence and lower gears, mostly out of anger and pain, and rolled in at about five hours, or around a pedestrian 13 mph average. Tiara intact I felt that I earned another Cinderella patch after riding this year on my own versus the previous time, when I was twenty years younger—at 17+ mph average with a women’s race team in a rotating pace line!

Thanks to Monica for the bejeweled tiaras and to all the Prince Charmings, especially Ted, helping out this year! (Ted later mentioned on Facebook that he has been handing out lemon drops for the last 30 years!!) What a perfect reunion!