Dear Listmembers,
I've been trying to get in the mood to write up my experience from the Cupertino Bike Shop 50th Anniv. gathering. This event had a slightly different "feel" than many of the other events I've been to in the recent past. I had the good fortune to be able to share the company of Chuck Schmidt on the 7 hr. (from my house) drive each way. Better yet, Chuck and I were able to have a nice dinner at Bucks Resturant, which I will describe later, with Jan and Peter Johnson in addition to spending the night at their home. Very much appreciated and enjoyed, and glad that Peters' reasoning with me convinced me not to just hit the road after the show. I'm always anxious to be back home. After sleeping like a rock, we departed Portola Valley and I made it all the way home to La Mesa without hitting ANY traffic along the way; most of the time I was booking along at about 80 to 85mph. Any time I slowed to 65 I felt like I had stopped and could step out and tie my shoe!
Brad Stockwell (who I met in person for the first time) didn't quite capture the full impact of the account of the climb as it was described before the ride. I always make it a point to ask "the locals", in this case Vance himself, what the hills are like on the ride. His responce, as Brad recounted, was indicated by a small distance between his fingers. Being old and wise, I inquire futher. I point to my freewheel which is 13-21 and ask specifically "can an old man like myself that is not fit from lack of miles make it up the hills?" A brief puzzled pause and then Vance answers "no problem". Fool that I am, I now feel, OK then, I shouldn't have any trouble making it. As we head out to Stevens Canyon the ride starts to pitch up here and there but the are small rollers. After the first one Brad says something like there are only two more short rollers like that and that's it. So we got over two more and I'm feeling a little tired but no big deal. There is tons of tree pollen in the air and what began as sneezing and running nose during the show has advanced to itching throat and eyes as well. Suddenly there is talk of something like "Oh, we're going over Mt. Eden? I thought ........." So out of nowhere suddenly appears A LOT more than just a few rollers. During the early part of the ride Brad Stockwell, Greg Davis, Tom Troung, Chuck Schmidt, Matt Gorski, and myself were sort of testing our legs. I was mainly taking my freshly assembled 1970 Colnago Super on it's first ride since the 7 mile shakedown ride I did two days earlier. This bike just wanted to go. I pressed the pedals and the bike rocked forward straight and true and with an effeciecy that nearly neutralized my lack of legs. The early flat part of the ride around town was fun as Jan filmed from the bike and Vances' young daughter on the back of the tandem could not get enough camera time OR attention of any kind from Jan. Claire Sprock wants to be a "supermodel" I believe I overheard; one thing for sure, she's not camera shy. What antics went down after we began the "death march" up this MOUNTAIN in the blazing HEAT I do not know; perhaps Jan cought some on film. I don't know how to explain this thing that happens when boys go out on bikes; but sooner or later someone always gets frisky, and it seems to happen at the WORST time. The road gets steep and instead of taking it easy som Do Do attacks. Crap! Do you chase or let the silly bastards go off and have their fun. Foolishly and through ignorance of what actually lie ahead, I chose to follow the attack. Truth be told it wasn't actually me that responded to the challange; it was the bicycle itself! As the climbing started I felt a deffinite willingness for the bike to accelerate up the hill. I actually stayed with the other three (Matt, Chuck, and Brad) for a while until the peloton was no longer in sight. We pressed on and finally I was not able to keep the pace, but I knew I could keep pedaling in 42-21 and make it to the top where I figured I has a shot at chatching them on what I hoped was a DOWNHILL section as least equal to the climb we were to endure. Tom Troung came up from behind me and rode past as I pedaled squares slowly to the top. Finally the summit. My ass has been kicked by the mountain but I am still alive and breathing so I slam it into the 52-13 and begin my quest to make contact with the leaders. I can see Tom a ways in front of me but I can't bridge the gap. I'm gassed, but not relenting I continue as I see Tom connect with Matt. Their pace quickens. Crap, now I have to pedal harder! I continue to gasp and pedal and finally just before the stop where Chuck and Brad are waiting, I hook up with the other two. That was the limit to my strength. Fortunately, the rest of the ride back to the shop was easy and flat, and yet I felt as if I could fall off my bike and die at any second. The decent had nearly peeled my eyelids off and they were itching like hell as my nose dripped like a faucet. The only thing keeping me upright and alive at that time was the unthinkable thought that someone else would inherit my precious electric blue Colnago. You see, we're in love now, and I just HAD to live! We rolled into the parking lot and the ordeal had come to an end. As promised, my bike had delivered me to safety, even though I did not deserve to have her in my condition. What a bike, and beautiful too!
A little while later the rest of the group rolled in. Apparently everyone survived. It was fun. It's always fun once the suffering is over. I enjoy the suffering also, getting the most out of what little I have has become somewhat of an artform in itself for me. I picked it up from my track racing days, where one can actually make things happen by being smarter as opposed to fitter at times. And never give up, unless you die. Then it's OK to fall off your bike.
That's all I have time for now. The rest of the details will have to come later. Overall Chuck and I had a really good time. Much of that was due to being around many of our regular friends, riding with new friends just adds icing to the cake.
Brian Baylis La Mesa, CA Felt like Sunday all day, even though it was Monday.