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COMPLETE HANDSOMEST MAN IN CUBA USA TOUR CHRONICLES
WHAT DO YOU DO ON THE FRIDAY after climbing 16,000 feet and riding 500+ miles drafting one of the fastest guys on two skinny wheels in deepest darkest Peru? (Read about that here)
'Take a break, rest,' said BF Club of SF and Velogirls member Jackie Link on picking me up from the airport.
Did I pay attention to that ancient wisdom? Of course not. With the help of BF Club of SF leader Diane Savard and Jackie we cajoled folks who were not working a 70-hour week (about 5 people in SF, no maybe 6) to ride 35 miles in Napa on Sat ride and 40-miles around SF City on Sun. You can join the club here.
Jackie told me I should hang up the bike shoes for a few days, but I wanted to check out what the altitude had done to my red blood cell count. I wanted to see where the other 0.0005% sip in Napa. So with perennial club members Dan Kaljian and Ben Piper I hammered to catch up to the main group after arriving in the wrong parking lot late. The last time I met up with these guys was for a ride up Mt Tam. Dan has never forgiven me for flukingly beating him in an impromptu Crissy Field parking lot sprint aeons ago, and since switched to an Air Friday to make sure it does not happen again. 'When young girls pass you on flip flops riding mountain bikes it destroys everything I've built up over the years,' he is heard to have said, with a twinkle of course, revealing the delightful thing that makes men men and women whatever they dang well please depending on the day.
In short, I was wasted. At lunch in the Michelin Winery (or whatever it was called) I could hardly get up off the ground ... yes, the air feels 'thick'. But the scenery... along Silverado then right over the mountain ... autumn leaves the tint of peach schnapps ... just like the Vaseline-lens-smeared TV ads for Chateaux Cardboard (I of course refer to the favorite Aussie wine-in-a-cardboard-cask, a newish novelty in the US). Thank you Claudia of Golden Gate Cyclists for letting us tag along.
ON SUNDAY we set off from the Ferry building at another cracking pace, Jackie leading the way. She's a Velogirl, remember, a bike club started by Lorri Lee Lown, USA Cycling Expert Coach.
What a great 40 miler - beaches, hills, bagel at Noahs. Although I did plead with the group to choose an eaterie which has not been genericized or stripmalled. 'I'm in one of the most creative cities in the world, aren't I? Puh-leeze,' I whined as Albertson's Deli was suggested. We ended up at Noah's - seems like avoiding chains these days is like trying to steer your front tire away from railroad tracks. 'It's all about volume,' said BF Club of SoCal leader Brian, when I found myself floundering in the massive Ontario Mills meglomall.
For those who want to re-trace the route in the comfort of their own paceline: ride through the Presidio, along Sea Cliff to the Legion of Honor and Land's End, down the Great Highway and around Lake Merced, over Twin Peaks from the easy south side, down into the Mission and back along the Embarcadero (and over Fort Mason and Crissy Field if going back to the Presidio start).
We always get some big wheels tagging along for interest. Dave W hung back on giving us leery looks onhis lurid lime-green LOOK - small wheels require one to shrink-wrap a corpulant ego. No matter, we'll convert him. I told him that ultracyclist Lon Haldeman pronounced that at the inaugural Bike Friday Desert Camp, the Bike Friday group came in the fastest on the 80-mile home stretch than he can remember in the 20-year history of PACTOUR desert camps. If that isn't a real endorsement of Bike Friday as a performance bike I don't know what is. Don't believe me? Sign up for the 2005 Pactour Desert Camp and put your 27" wheels where your prejudice is!
At Golden Gate park I had to blow the whistle and confess to the group 'I am trashed', bid them farewell and sit in the gutter for a full half an hour before mustering the energy to get completely confused trying to get to Market Street. They went off to do Twin Peaks.
During this time of reflection I was regaled by a Hungarian cyclist bemoaning the state of the US dollar and enquiring how he might sell Bike Fridays to Hundary for a full half hour. I was able to do little but nod and smile weakly.
What a weekend. Now for my Cuba talk, at GET LOST ...
The room steadily filling with Bike Friday owners, Craigslist folk, the public, and someone with their nose in a Bike Friday brochure already!
Movie Clip: So Bike Friday has a following in SF? asks Get Lost owner Lee (<1 Mb)
MONDAY NOVERMBER 8, GET LOST TRAVEL BOOKSTORE, 1825 MARKET ST.
Mmy talk attracted a very nice crowd of 40+ folks, comprising those who'd read the SF Chronicle Events Calendar, Bike Friday owners who'd been regaled mercilessly via postcard, email, spiritual channelling etc, and quite a few Craiglist.org folk who'd been cajoled by me via the personals, the platonics, the whatever it takes to get people to come out and play. I am a true believer in creating community in this disconnected society, especially a society that is geared towards families rather than singles once you get beyond 30, so I told the unencumbered on Craiglist to turn off the telly, come along and wear something red. 'If the person up front (me) is not your cup o' ramen, glance sideways and see if anyone wearing red takes your fancy,' I said. 'If nothing else, you'll be entertained and informed about a country you can't legally visit and a bicycle you can stick in a suitcase. Besides, what else are you gonna do Monday night? Stare into your beer? Come on down and join the rest of the people with guts!'
To their credit, several showed and I do hope they got to chat to someone cool, or at least feel less like an island. I am told for all its fun stuff to do, politically-correct (despite the liberal gay culture) SF is a bit isolating. You have to thrown the first punch if you want to be pummeled by opportunity.
'So Bike Friday has a following?' said bookstore owner Lee Azus, as around a dozen folks laughed and raised their hands. Brochures were quickly passed around and this is how one enters Bike Friday World ... my talk ended with a demo of the folding and the usual Q&A like 'don't you have to pedal more?'.
It seems that in SF, people have more time to read - or at least digest event calendar of the Chronicle, and make books and cultural events such as my talk a priority. Some had come from over the bridge and far away, driving for as much as an hour in peakhour traffic. In contrast, in New Jersey my talks were announced to almost 700 bike club members, plastered all over community calendars and talked up on listserves, and I got little more than a handful of little old ladies nodding off. 'It's hard to bike here,' was the excuse. More like it's hard to reach the pause button without dislocating your shoulder ...
Earlier in the day, a woman traveler named Jack passed by the bookstore while I was mid-trying to decorate it with Handsomest Man in Cuba posters, and took me across the road to the Gay, Lesbian and Transgender Resource Center for a bite to eat in the cafe. Several times since then I sat in there slurping on hot soy lattes and their wi-fi connection and was never made to feel unwelcome. If you are gay in this town it seems there is no excuse not to have a great life. You have rights, you have things to, people to see, groovy food, furniture and frappucinos to partake of, and you are accepted. Shuffling along the Castro, I saw restaurants full of men. Men men men. I wonder if anyone's ever switched camps simply to access what seems to be a spectacular social life.
At my talk, around a dozen people bought books, apparently not too bad for a fabulous nobody in a fabulous city. It seems my Amazon 5-star reviews are slowly mounting, and one must be thankful for small mercies like this.
Afterwards, a group of around 7 of us went in search of a non-generic cafe to partake of a chai latte and the Galfromdownunder in Peru slideshows and movies on my laptop. We ended up in a place called Muddy Waters which served us with an attitude of gratitude. For interest, the group consisted of an Indian, an Israeli, a Filipino, a Cuban, two Americans and an Australian. The world is sipping chai lattes in your living room. Thank you Anand, Eddie, Chuck, Lea, Teresa, et al, for putting up with my images.
Next day, I was taken on a tour of the city by Steve D, taking in Twin Peaks and other landmarks. He talked about how 'distinct and fiercely parochial' SF neighborhoods are. 'If you want to make money in this town, you have to target your neighborhood down to the cross streets,' he said. We concluded that parts of the ritzy Presidio, Marina and Pacific Heights areas would have no interest whatsoever in my tale about poor Cubans, nor would they possibly get out of their BMW's to swing their legs over a Bike Friday. Other areas could empty their coin purses for a Bike Friday but be too young to feel secure riding a bicycle with small wheels. And so on. He took me to a raw fooderie called Gratitude, where each dish was named 'I am thankful', 'I am beautiful', 'I am resourceful' etc. 'I am relieved' I quipped to the owner, suggesting he put it on the restroom door. He blinked at me and said it was um, funny ... at which point I slunk out the door making sure I didn't leave my somewhat laconic sense of Aussie humor languishing on the non-GMO seats.
Thanks to Bike Friday owner Theresa Ojeda for giving me a place to lay my weary oxygen-deprived head for a few days in San Francisco, for Jackie and Diane who organized rides, to Dan Kaljian and Ben Piper for always showing up, and for all the great folks who crossed my path. Please keep in touch with me via lynchiang at yahoo dot com. Oh, and buy my book from Get Lost Travel Books, as yet unsubsumed by the Barnes and Noble's of the world, and put a review of my book on Amazon of course!
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All words and images copyright 2004 Lynette Chiang, lynchiang at yahoo dot com . All rights reserved.
COMPLETE HANDSOMEST MAN IN CUBA USA TOUR CHRONICLES
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