Marin again?

Saturday. JK had recovered enough from her head cold to ride on Saturday, but wouldn't be up for an assault on Hamilton. So, once again, I found myself crashing a Saturday club ride, this time with a slightly larger group of Marin Cyclists.

Fairfax was buzzing, with Biketoberfest descending on downtown. But the festivities hadn't started when we headed out to do a 47-mile loop through Nicasio, Pt. Reyes Station, and Bolinas-Fairfax Rd. The group had some stronger riders, and we made great time through the Nicasio Reservoir wind tunnel. "Too slow for you?" a woman asked. Not at all! I was stupidly saving myself for a much longer and harder ride, confusing Bo-Fax Rd with the Marshall Wall to the north. It wasn't till our bakery stop at Pt. Reyes Station that I realized my confusion, and that the ride was a lot shorter than I'd thought.

Still, the rollers on Highway 1 between Olema and Bo-Fax did a number on my legs, particularly since I was caught between two groups, and fought like hell to latch onto the back of the front trio. We regrouped at the base of the climb, and I shed my vest. Although the coast was solidly socked in, I anticipated some friskiness on the climb, and would warm up quickly.

The ascent started all civilized. We chatted comfortably about the closure of Market Street in SF, tan lines, and other bikely subjects. A guy explained that squirrels are "basically tree wolverines" when I said I saw one eating a checken leg last week. "Now this is nice, " I thought. "Tree wolverines?" Then, a fast skinny guy on a lugged steel Bianchi decided to "attack" about halfway up the climb. I responded, but the effort put me well into the red zone. I wondered if I could keep pace till the summit. Another fellow in a Seaco jersey bridged up and hung on.

We stuck together, and I kept the cramps at bay by getting out of the saddle and keeping the circles smooth. Despite my whingeing, I enjoyed the challenge, and reveled in the work. We were rewarded with a gorgeous break in the fog up top, and a sunny return via Alpine Dam Rd into Fairfax.

Biketoberfest was in full swing. I got a brat and potato salad and ogled the gorgeous bikes from Rivendell, Sycip, Soulcraft, and other local builders. I admit my bike obsession is a source of some embarrassment. Much like people who are afraid to profess their love of Felicity, US Weekly, or Twilight, I consider bike shows a guilty pleasure best kept in check. Maybe I should just yell out at the top of my lungs, "YES!! I LOVE BIKES AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO SAY IT!!"

Check out the cauldron of paella. It's so eye of newt.

Sunday. Recovery ride. Freezing cold on the ridge. Fog blowing across the road. Opted to descend Claremont and go home on the flats, instead of frigid suffering on Grizzly Peak. Listened to the Two Johns Podcast, where they discussed this clip.