Since you paid good money for access to this blog, I thought I'd better do some entries while I'm traveling. What? You didn't pay? Dude, how am I going to afford my new tadpole trike? I kid, of course. The blog is free, but please feel free to send some financial love to WABA in care of their Bollard Demolition Fund.
And so here are two of my favorite rides:
Maui Downhill: On our honeymoon, Mrs. Rootchopper and I got
up at 2 am and took a van to the top of Halleakala crater on the island of Maui.
After the sun rise shot what looked like laser beams through the
irregularities in the far side of the crater rim, we donned yellow suits (they
looked like the kind of rain gear kids used to wear at the bus stop in the 1960s)
and motorcycle helmets. We hopped aboard mountain bikes with seriously beefy
disk brakes and rode down the mountain on the sole access road. We went through dozens of switchbacks with
our tour leader riding down the middle of the road swerving like a madman so
that the bleary eyed drivers on the way up the mountain were sure to see us.
About half way down we stopped for a breakfast feast (fresh Kona coffee is
unbelievably good). Stuffed to the top
tubes, we used our pedals for all of 30 seconds before gravity took over as we
left the restaurant parking lot We glided all the way to the ocean town of Paia. Paia is known for
two things, wind surfing and Maui wowie. It’s a one of a kind place. The ride was unique
and very easy on our bodies except for our hands. All that braking wore our hands out. My hands
were fine in a couple of days. We
started on what looked like the moon and ended up with the trade winds blowing
through the trees. Memories of this ride have lingered for a long, long time.
Golden Gate: One summer long ago, I worked as government
intern in San Francisco.
It was the most boring job ever. I had never been off the east coast, however,
so I was in for some culture shock. My summer started in Davis
CA which was Biketown USA even back
then. There were way more bikes than cars. And a casual vibe that only a California college town
could offer. After a week of hospitality from Don Kanare, a college friend, I
moved to Berkeley
and worked in “The City.” One Saturday I
took my bike on a BART train to go exploring in one of the most beautiful
cities in the world. I rode all over the
place but I remember most riding up Russian Hill and having to lean over my
handlebars to stay upright. Can you say, “Legs on fire!”? At the top of the
hill, I looked to my right and could see Fisherman’s Wharf waaaay doowwnnn
there. It was scary steep so I rode in the least steep direction. I found my
self cruising at speed under redwoods in the Presidio, which was still a
military base. It was a total rush. I made my way to the Golden Gate Bridge
and rode across it on the side path. Can you say, “Just plain awesome, dude!?” My ride finished in the chi chi town of Sausalito. After hanging
out, I took a ferry across the bay past Alcatraz
and back to the City.
More tomorrow. Don't touch that dial.
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