Forecast: Sunny and 70
Greetings from San Diego where the forecast is always sunny and 70. I've been here for about 10 days and it has been that way every day except for the one I arrived, which was foggy and misty. I've done three good rides since I've been here.
The first one had to be after a full day working our convention here. The motivation was that we were having our staff dinner that night. So I wanted to be able to eat guilt free so after I worked 7 to 4 I put on my lights and went out and rode for three hours. I got kind of lost as San Diego is now an unfamiliar place to me and I almost rode onto interstate 8. It was this road that just dumps you onto the freeway with little warning. Then I rode by a Costco and waved to all the people waiting for Playstation 3s, and fortunately I heard no gunfire.
Then I stopped in at the Bicycle Warehouse to pick up a book about riding around here as I've evidently forgotten how. That led me to the ride I did today. Out from my Mom's house in Del Mar, north through Camp Pendleton past many many banners welcoming home Dad, the pleasant smell of Turkey wafting across the road. Quite a barren looking yet living landscape here compared to the East Coast. Far, far less green trees, but the hills are alive, if rather brown.
They have bike lanes everywhere herebut although it seems like that should be heaven it isn't. Runners use them. Slower bikes use them. So if you want to keep going you've got to pull into the road to get around. Some guy in his car was less than pleased about this and followed me as I stopped at a bathroom. Anytime anybody starts in by saying "I don't mean to butt (yes, two ts) in, but..." that you are in for a lecture. I'm standing there urinating as he starts in on me. It wasn't long before he started condescending to me, calling me son. The lecture was basically that I have no business being out in the road since there is a bike lane for me and that I'm going to get myself killed. My best retort was when I called him dad after he called me son, and rode off. This turned out to be a questionable decision when he drove about three miles up the coast and cut me off at the pass, trying yet again to pick a fight with me. I told him to go pick on somebody else and just kept riding. Yet again I forgot to take down the plate number until he was gone.
I'll tell you what. You hear that there is all this good juju here in SoCal, that people are so laid back here but they check there mellow at the door here just like they do most places. In fact, the speeds on the roads are so high on the highways that I spend half the time riding the imaginary brake pedal in the passenger seat when we're not sitting in traffic. Anyway I'm sure the cagers here are no meaner to bikies here than anywhere else, so I'm not going to go any further than that, but it is not a mythical paradise. On par the bike lanes are a good thing but they have their dark sides too.
The book also helped inspire a nice ride last Sunday up to Cabrillo national monument. Here is a photo I found on Google that gives you an idea of the great view it affords. You can see downtown San Diego's rapidly changing skyline there on the right, next to the tree in the above picture.
The first one had to be after a full day working our convention here. The motivation was that we were having our staff dinner that night. So I wanted to be able to eat guilt free so after I worked 7 to 4 I put on my lights and went out and rode for three hours. I got kind of lost as San Diego is now an unfamiliar place to me and I almost rode onto interstate 8. It was this road that just dumps you onto the freeway with little warning. Then I rode by a Costco and waved to all the people waiting for Playstation 3s, and fortunately I heard no gunfire.
Then I stopped in at the Bicycle Warehouse to pick up a book about riding around here as I've evidently forgotten how. That led me to the ride I did today. Out from my Mom's house in Del Mar, north through Camp Pendleton past many many banners welcoming home Dad, the pleasant smell of Turkey wafting across the road. Quite a barren looking yet living landscape here compared to the East Coast. Far, far less green trees, but the hills are alive, if rather brown.
They have bike lanes everywhere here
I'll tell you what. You hear that there is all this good juju here in SoCal, that people are so laid back here but they check there mellow at the door here just like they do most places. In fact, the speeds on the roads are so high on the highways that I spend half the time riding the imaginary brake pedal in the passenger seat when we're not sitting in traffic. Anyway I'm sure the cagers here are no meaner to bikies here than anywhere else, so I'm not going to go any further than that, but it is not a mythical paradise. On par the bike lanes are a good thing but they have their dark sides too.
The book also helped inspire a nice ride last Sunday up to Cabrillo national monument. Here is a photo I found on Google that gives you an idea of the great view it affords. You can see downtown San Diego's rapidly changing skyline there on the right, next to the tree in the above picture.
I'll sample the SDBC ride on Saturday. Bet they mark me as a Phred, as I'm riding with hairy legs and on my Dad's circa 1990 Trek 1100. A triple chainwheel. Bar-end shifters: Seven speed Suntour. The cool thing is that I brought my own shoes and pedals, as well as my own saddle. And the bike has a a Look Ergostem - an adjustable stem - so I can get the reach and height right. I'm sure it will be sunny and 70 so the rest is up to me.
posted by Mark @ 6:34 PM
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