Last Day

After a week of saying, what day is this and feeling like we had been on this trip for a month it finally dawned on me that we were going to be seeing some folks for the last time. Regardless of your background, age, gender or persuasion, you cannot help but admire all those that shared this fantastic trip. We had cyclists of every possible category including MJ who set daily, weekly, and lifelong mileage records and will never look at a bike the same again. Karina fine tuned her skills as a “baby possum” and will now need to work on Gus’s drafting since it will not be long until she is pulling him.

As usual the day started with breakfast and I ratcheted down to real life with a bowl of oatmeal instead of the usual blow you face off gluttony of the past week. Our ride today was more ceremonial than anything, 20 miles out and back to Hanna Winery. We also had the first serious auto/bike incident of the week when an a**hole in a Porsche Cayenne blew by all of us and came within micrometers of fouling up our trip. He laid on the horn and I kept thinking how many times this had happened riding in PA and KY over the years. By most standards Californians were pretty considerate of our cycling. As usual, Karina and Gus lit the afterburner and I saw Gus’s derriere for the last time. I hung back with Nace and Rita and we wound up at Hanna 25 minutes too early. The pot of lobby coffee I had consumed was now threatening to damage a kidney. The winery is mid hilltop with not a shred of cover for a nature walk so we amused ourselves with a young Rattlesnake that was really just trying to mind his own business and get some early AM sun.

Nace, Rita and I took in a quick tasting and then headed back to the hotel. Nace had almost nothing to eat and I was thinking about calling AAA (it was too late for AA).

We limped in and my melancholy took a major uptick. I actually spent most of the return leg with my eyes glazed over. I sent Nace to the shower and Nick and I stripped the bikes of our personal gear. I looked at my shoes and realized they were not worth the trip home. The rainy first day ride and a week without a chance to air out made them candidates for a DNR toe tag.

Showered, packed and ready to roll we had lunch next door topped off with a champagne toast courtesy of the two sweetest people you could ever hope to meet, and I am not talking about Gus and Karina.

Gus, jealous of my local fame as most helpful Backroads “suck up” started loading the van with the mountain of luggage that threatened to collapse the lobby.

We hugged the driving contingent goodbye and Nick and Jill made their rounds giving everyone a proper send off. Unable to even speak at this point I ceremoniously turned my shoes over to Jill and Nick, and in keeping with their unflappable style, looked like I had just given them a bottle of Dom.

With the motor coach loaded we are presently heading back to SF and enjoyed a slide-show of all our images as a final tribute to a once in a lifetime vacation.

This blog would not be complete without testimony about how much we missed Jean, Lenny and Bill. There were many silent prayers and glasses raised in honor of our missing team members.

I hope this was half as much fun to read as it has been to live and write.

“I live to bike and bike to eat”

L. Philip Baier Sept 2009