MORON
9-12-2006 - Big Rock Ridge, Lucas Valley
I almost drove off the road when I saw how many folks we had for the Ronless MoRon ride.
Twenty Two (if the Rangers got us, would it be a “Catch 22”? Har, har, har…)! I arrived under a tight timeline, having a bike in need of a chain. Even though Bruno was “fishing in Montana” (I’d like to read this groups’ musings re: what kind of smokescreen “Fishing in Montana” might be. Perhaps he is attending a “Fundamentals of Fine Italian Shoe Shopping” seminar in Milan? “Seven Habits of the Highly Fashionable”? Perhaps just the basics…. “How to be a Better Person”? Let’s hope it’s the latter), I was still angst ridden about being potentially late. The flock would turn their once adoring eyes to me and inquire if I’d be enforcing late fees in His absence, to which I would respond (twitching) “I, my sons and daughters, am the route Nazi, not the time Nazi”. Totally lame. No leadership. They begin to stone me (the bad kind). I want to go toward the light, but there was a power failure just in that moment so I go to the other place by default. What a total drag. Ya know, you grow up thinking that being a ‘good’ and ‘decent’ person will get you into heaven, but alas, it’s all about PG&E.
But I digress….
Christina was the only one OUT OF 22 PEOPLE who actually incurred a late fee. Ya know, this shit works!! Ya shoulda heard her… “Doctor appointment, Kaiser, can’t sleep, couldn’t park, when I was 5 my parents were mean to me, Tic Tac, bric-a-brac, throw the dog a bone….”
We headed up the trail on a beautiful, warm, sunny evening—quite a juxtaposition to the last time we did this trail. We were two or three groups, really, the hyper-sonic crowd (Ryan, SS Jim and I don’t know who else cause, well, I wasn’t there….), the just plain fast folks (you know who you are—again, I don’t….), the “just human” speed (Alan, Yvette, Aja, Russell, Dolores, others), you know, the further I go down this path, the clearer it is becoming to me that this can’t end well—if I start with “hyper-sonic” and “super-fast”, doesn’t that mean I’ve gotta end by calling a group—with names—“slower than molasses in winter”? “Glacial paced”? “Fast—for a redwood tree”? Jesus, always remember the first rule of holes: when you’re in one, stop digging. Okay, digging has ceased.
We (you know, the “Scenery Enjoyers”, the “Moment Relishers”?) got to the top(ish) where the party was in full swing, minus Aja and Adam who fell for the ol’ “yeah, we’re going to the towers---meet ya there!” trick. They arrived safe and sound shortly thereafter, a little peeved, but none worse for the wear. I think Russell’s response to his role in that debacle was “Huh. Yup.”
What an amazing sunset! It just wouldn’t stop. The wind did howl, and the grass did blow, we drank a toast to a biker most hadn’t the good fortune to know. On a night like that, in a place like that, it was easy to appreciate all that we have and to remember that it can all go away in an instant, so live it right and joyously.
Okay, back to being irreverent and snide (it’s so homey for me). We shared lots of things, mostly food and alcohol, though apparently Pete was unclear on the concept that “pissing in the wind” is considered a BAD thing in most circles. “Mo, how come the other kids don’t invite me???” Hmmmm. I wonder.
We headed down, and while I was waiting for the last of the riders on one of the switchbacks, I saw the entire trail laid out below me, illuminated by headlamps snaking through the night. It was glorious! Looked like the scene at a 24-hour race. That trail is so much freakin’ fun to descend. What a hoot. Bob supplied us with roadside beer at the end and we headed to the Drum for food and more beer (between the shots and the beer, I wasn’t feeling all that “appreciative” of my life this morning….).
If anyone on this list has not yet been invited to our party this Saturday at 3:00 at 25 Tamalpais in Fairfax, consider yourself invited, then show up. From Sir Francis Drake in Fairfax, turn left on Azalea by Bell Market. Second stop sign, go right on Sequoia, then immediate left on Tamalpais. 415-686-0721 (Mo) or 686-0257 (Pete). -LINK TO MAP- Big party. Bring friends, kids, whatever. We’ll have a keg and some basic food items. Bring something to grill. Do a ride first if you want—you can shower at our house. Many of us will be attending the Mt. Tam Hill Climb in the morning to cheer for Bruno the Fashion Plate, Karen Rehder, my brother Rob, and perhaps Scott? Join us for that if you wish, then ride, then come to our party. Or join us, then go shoe shopping with Bruno, then come to our party. Just don’t come over before 3:00. I’ll be knitting party favors.
This is from Lorna:
From roads to mountains…
As an avid roadie for about 25 years, I never thought I would like mtn. biking that much. Guess it just seemed a little too rough and scary. Then I met Eric at the beginning of ’06; that wild mountain man. Did he ever have stories to tell me!! And he discreetly sent me Mo’s brilliant, laugh-out-loud (and I mean GUFFAWS!!) reports.
“These reports are not for the world to see,” he would remind me. So I kept it to myself, living vicariously through these amazing stories! During the first few reports, I needed massive amounts of interpretation! What the hell is a dab? A g-out??
I could go on and on. But when I met Mo and some of the group, I already knew many of you!!
So, I was excited when I was invited on the group ride to Pilot Knob . I was assured that it was for everyone, as long as you knew how to ride! We had a blast!! I did not want to leave that gorgeous spot at the top, yet I knew I would be riding in the dark. So I stayed and partied. The irony here is that I did not crash (and some of the time I was BY MYSELF-being abandoned because of a silly ranger- this has already been written-up), UNTIL LITERALLY THE VERY END. Wouldn’t ya know it. guard down, feeling overly-confident, and splat…..a cracked helmet in two places, a still-sore left leg, and a forever scar on my left shoulder (why do elementary schools have banks and concrete?).
Well, for the next few weeks, I was scoffing at this sport. Why the hell would I want to do a sport where it is COMMON to crash?? What, am I NUTS?? Oh, and how about the broken bones? But Eric kept saying, “Lorna, people don’t usally die mtn. biking where they certainly can road biking.” Sadly this is ever-so poignant, with the recent sad news of a fellow cyclist being killed by a drunk driver last week.
So, then Eric loaned me his lovely yellow bike (YB), and I started doing solo mellow types of rides on my own purely for the workout and the car-less beauty around me. I still had a lot of resistance. So when Mo said to me a few weeks ago, “Lorna, I want you to come on our Tues. nite ride to Big Rock”, I about fell over. I gulped, “ok, I guess, but are you SURE you’re inviting me??” She looked at me like I was crazy, I mean, what the hell did she JUST say?
Around this time I met my new gal pal Francine, whose enthusiasm for this new sport matches mine, and we are the same level. We have only been on a couple of rides, but we spend HOURS doing it, and we love every minute of it!!
So, first I had Eric ride Big Rock to see if I should, and obviously, a no-brainer; he agreed with Mo. Then Francine and I rode it last Sunday. It was awesome. I was so happy. We even went back at the half way point to practice those switchbacks (previously known to me as hairpin turns!!).
I have to say, though, I was still very nervous about Tuesday, particularly riding down in the dark. It did seem daunting. But I just HAD to do this; I was committed.
I was so excited on Tuesday….something great to look forward to! I arrived at Big Rock and immediately recognized many faces, plus there were a couple of other riders who are around my level. Whew.
OK, MY REPORT IN A NUTSHELL in case you didn’t want to bother with the first part…
AWESOME!! EXHILIRATING!! STUPENDOUS!!! A great work-out up, and oh-my-God-did I ever LOVE that downhill. And the party at the top with that view---WOW!! Eric was with me all the way…thanks Eric! And we even had the added fun of Delores being with us on the downhill, and believe me, I do know that she is an adrenaline junkie!
What I loved about going down on that wonderful trail was that all of my senses were in full bloom, including a warm belly from Russell’s delicious concoction of Grand Marnier and Tequila. It was great to arrive back to the parking area with everyone hanging out…still as a GROUP!! I was immediately handed a delicious cold beer by Bob, and we all hung out for awhile having a great time. And the great time was not over yet…on to the Broken Drum for more festivities, and so much fun.
Wow, I’m still high!!
Do I need to convince anyone that I have surely been bitten by the bug now? And I’m itching to RIDE ON!!!
Thank you all!! And especially to Mo and Eric.
Lorna.
"Shuttle to the top, right?"
A big rock. It could be THE big rock. Big rock ridge is in the backround. Coincedence? ...this week on In Search Of...
We used up just about every parking spot possible at the trailhead.
Clustering with the HELL HOUND.
Hamana guys tend to look pretty pissed off until they get beer into their guts.
The ASS KICKER part of the climb. Pretty.
Moving fast enough to get her hair flying. You go girl!
A pro racer? No. It's just Dolores.
Bob. Mid-pack.
Dave has no idea how bad a head injury can be when climbing very, very slowly.
Pretty.
You know...just like in that movie...the one with the sunset...you know...he gets to kiss the girl right after that car chase where his car crashes into a pile of empty cardboard boxes and does a flip over the river...IT'S AWSOME!!!
More of the same. Whatever.
Mo. Happy?
Your happy now. Just wait 'till it's dark and scary with all those dangerous animals loose.
Stupid fucking sunsets. Enough already. No pictures of Lake Ewok. This sucks.
Dumb people.
Lots of dumb people.
Maggie was toooooo psyko. Back to the car.
Drunk.
Drunks.