The alarm was set for 3:30AM, but I was already awake and getting dressed. While my outmeal boiled, I checked the weather. The forecast was the same - thunderstorms, rain. At 4AM, the text came through: "Opening and Rideout on schedule".
Bruce and Monica arrived picked me up at 4:30. On the way in, I realized that I had forgotten the charger and cord for my iPhone. Oh well, I'll conserve battery until I get to a place to buy a new set. We got to the Cow Palace around 5:30. To our relief, the weather looked good. There were clouds, but no rain. The gear trucks were all lined up, A through P. We were assigned truck F, and tent spot F23. We dropped off our gear bags, then it was into the main arena for opening ceremonies. There were brief speeches, highlighted by the announcement that we had raised $13 Million, a new record! A procession with a riderless bike, representing all those who have died of AIDS, slowly made its way to the stage.
We worked our way to the staging area, found our bikes, mounted our fenders, lights, water bottles, computers, and got in line to start the day's ride. This year, even with several hundred more riders than in the past, there was a lot less standing and waiting. Within 15-20 minutes, we were riding slowly down Geneva. Lanes were blocked off for us, with police directing traffic at the intersection. After mile 6, the reserved lanes ended and were supposed to be riding single file. The reality is that we were two-abreast, with faster riders passing and calling out "on your left" for much of the route until the first rest stop.
We rode down the peninsula, then over Hwy 92 to Half Moon Bay, where we turned south on US 1 and got a big surprise - headwinds. Normally, the prevailing winds give a nice push all the way down to Santa Cruz. Not this year. The headwinds were brutal from the lunch stop at San Gregorio to rest stop 3, then eased as we gradually turned eastward approaching Santa Cruz. The first night's camp was at Harvey West Park.
One thing that always amazes me are the number of people cheering along the route. Every town, every major climb, and at the end of every ride, there are big groups of people cheering, ringing cowbells, holding signs. It's like being in a big-time race. The support is unbelievable. Riding into camp, someone always yells out "Welcome Home." That always puts a lump in my throat.
Here's the GPS track for day 1.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment