Let's Go!

SAN FRANCISCO to NOVATO (Amy) -- Our plan the first day was easy: all we had to do was to ride to Novato and meet Ryan's parents. They would then drive us to Manton, near mount Lassen, where they are building their retirement home.

OK, I was slightly late riding over to Ryan’s house. Partly because the night before, as I was packing my bike, the whole loaded thing fell on my foot. The chain ring stabbed my foot and left a stigmata-like wound. It was bleeding, totally hurt and I had to hobble around. So I felt rushed and I was also worried that I wouldn’t be able to ride my bike long distances. Not helping was the fact that Ryan kept calling to tell me I was late. I stopped answering the phone and still he called.

Once at Ryan’s, Ryan complained again that I was late. Then we bickered about who was carrying more stuff.

Car crash: A sign?

We took some hopeful beginning-of-the-trip pictures, and got on our bikes to go.

Two cars then collided in the intersection in front of us.

I can’t remember if I said so at the time, but I definitely thought that the cars were a bad sign. No one was hurt and we left quickly, not wanting to give witness reports for the insurance companies.

I insisted on stopping at our bakery for bread and pastries and to have some pizza because I was already hungry for lunch. Ryan hated this plan but once we were at the bakery he had some snacks himself.

We rode through Marin via a route we have taken many times before. I felt tired and my foot hurt. We stopped by some public restrooms in Sausalito and when I came out Ryan was taking beauty pictures of his bike.

Amy eats a muffin

Ryan seemed fine, happy to be wearing his brand new rain pants. OK, I teased Ryan quite a bit on our last trip for over-packing, and he seemed to internalize this is an extreme way. The weather reports were looking all around cold and wet, and still he wouldn’t even bring a sweater or rain pants. We fought about this every day the week before we left. Then, the day before we left, he showed up at work with rain pants, acting like he was so smart to think to buy them. He wore them every day all day for the rest of the trip, rain or no rain.

Near Corte Madera, our usual route was closed, and we had to go over a hill instead. Fine. It started raining though and I had to stop to put on my rain pants. As stated, Ryan was already sporting his rain pants and he did not wait for me, as you might expect someone would if you were embarking on a big trip together.

Then something started rubbing on my tire. I couldn’t figure it out. It seemed related to my kind of rushed front rack installation job. I kept tightening things and going on, hearing rubbing and stopping, etc. Ryan was waiting at the bottom of the hill and pointed out that a bolt was missing from the front rack. I was very bothered by this problem because it could have made me wipe out badly on the decent.

So I was moving my bike around to fix it and somehow the frame pump popped off and ripped up a big flap of skin on my pinky. Ryan bandaged it, and he also gave me a zip tie to temporarily replace my bolt. This hurt my pride a little bit--the stubborn little rain pants man packing the safety and repair items that I so needed and did not have.

But anyway, we weren’t in the middle of nowhere yet, so I suggested that we go not to the nearest bike shop, but to the one that was next to a café where I could have a nice cup of tea.

Amy fixes her flat

Now this is like the most common sized bolt ever, but asking for it at this unnamed bike shop caused a lot of confusion. Which upset me because a very young seeming teenaged boy was helping me and the confusion embarrassed him. Also disturbing was one of the other customers, a total mack daddy, who kept telling me how nice my bike was. I know my bike is nice. Ryan waited impatiently outside during this half hour ordeal.

We decided to take a break and have a hot beverage and eat the scones that I had the foresight to bring at the café next door. A passerby admired Ryan’s bike but ignored mine. The passerby was walking, not riding a bike.

Once we finally left San Rafael, it was almost 3pm and we were supposed to meet Ryan’s parents in Novato by 4pm. It should not have been a problem, but I got two flat tires just miles from Ryan’s parents’ house. How did that happen? I do not know. I first tried the denial method of fixing flats, which just entails pumping up the tires and seeing if they’ll stay inflated long enough to get you where your going. Didn’t work.

So I got all my stuff out and started fixing the flats the real way. You might think that Ryan would help me but he was busy giggling and calling me “Flat Queen.” This is a take-off on one of my nicknames for him, “Flat King.”

Amy helps with planning

So by this time we are almost late. I would like to emphasize that I am perfectly able to fix flats, I am just slow at it. Probably because I don’t get nearly as many flats as say, the Flat King. Ryan went to call his mom to tell her we would be late. There are no public phones in Marin anymore though. He was searching for one at an elementary school and a teacher there asked him if it was an emergency. He said yes and she let him use her classroom phone.

Ryan came back and continued to laugh at my struggle. But before I could finish fixing my flat Ryan’s parents pulled up and whisked us back to their house. This was in fact a relief, but I would like to restate that I could have fixed my bike, it just would have made us late.

Ryan’s parents offered us huge quantities of food, but it was getting late so we quickly left for Manton.

Once we were on the I-5, I fell asleep. I was exhausted and cars just make me sleepy. I believe Ryan used this time to discuss different routes for us to take. Mary and Lloyd (Ryan’s parents) had been emailing us weather reports for the Lassen area all week with comments like. “Looks pretty wet!!!” They are perhaps more realistic than us. Although it was almost May, it was still snowing as far down as 4000 feet. And the whole first part of our trip was supposed to be at that elevation or higher. When we got to Manton, Ryan had tentatively reversed our intended course.

I used Lloyd’s tools to fix my bike, and Ryan repacked his stuff. We went to sleep early. We were tired and unsure of where we would go in the morning.