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It's important to pass on those important traditions down to the next generation. I learned to cook, sew and knit from my mom. I'm sure many of you learned fishing and woodworking from your dad.
It's a little different when you have a mom that bikes....
In an attempt to get in an "after 250 km training" ride, Team Captain Lisaa looked for other like-minded Bikeaholics; however all she could drum up were two interested, eager-eyed 10-yr. olds. After packing up the Subaru with two mt. bikes on the top racks (including using a wrench (!) to take off one of the front wheels) and stuffing the smaller 20" wheel mt. bike into the back, we headed off to Edgewood and Canada.
Another 45 min. later, bikes were out of/off the car, reassembled, and the
respective young riders were reeled in from the adjacent fields where they
were climbing and throwing rocks. My son, Arik, of course, was
appropriately dressed and looked like a shrunken version of an adult mt.
biker - with his blue kids jersey, black cycling shorts, mini-CamelBak, Giro
helmet with mirror, and perfectly sized
10-speed-with-real-shifters-and-caliper-brakes-mt. bike. Craig had an adult
sized (26" wheel) dual suspension mountain bike, but it looked like it was a
little too big for him, and he was wearing some sort of skateboarding
helmet, baggy t-shirt and shorts. MomLisa was donned in her feminine,
sleeveless, flowered jersey and sported a Marin Bikes "Bear Valley" mountain
bike. I'm sure none of the other million cyclists that passed us on Canada
Rd. would have ever guessed I had done a 160 mi. training ride the previous
day and was training for PBP...
We headed down to Woodside, the boys struggling to get up the little hills,
as I instructed them in the fine art of using the shifters to change to an
"easier" gear. We also got through the "weaving in and out of the road"
phase, and were soon a well-behaved, but somewhat spread-out paceline. We
made our first turn at Olive Hill. The little hill before the left turn
onto Albion was another struggle, but I heard the clicking of gears that
indicated they had indeed remembered about the shifting. We meandered over
to Manuella, then to Tripp Rd. Much to my surprise, the old Woodside Store
(now a museum) was open, and we stopped to look at the antiques inside and
hear the docent talk about the logging operations to support the gold rush
(the boys had just learned that in school the past term).
Dissention in the ranks began after about 10 min., and I heard various mumblings, such as "How many more minutes until we get ice cream?" and "When are we going to get out of this place?" We got back on the bikes, and made our way to Woodside Rd., and on to Roberts Market, where we loaded up on sandwiches, juice, ice cream sandwiches and bars, and chips. We crossed over to the Bakery side, and made our way to the Sacred Whole Bikeaholic Wall. It was a pleasant day, and we enjoyed sitting up on the wall, basking in the sun while eating ice cream. I imagined what it would be like in 20 years, with Arik and Craig leading the next generation of Whole Bikeaholics to the Sacred Place.
As it got warmer, we decided to move over to the swinging bench in the
shade. MomLisa threatened to throw up on both of them if they didn't stop
rocking the chair off the cement. Then the chanting began:
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If you're sitting on the John and the toilet paper's gone Be a boy, Use a toy. If you're sitting on the John and the toilet paper's gone Be a girl, Use a squirrel. If you're sitting on the John and the toilet paper's gone Be a cat, Use a hat..... |
Reminded me of our Team Troubadour, Billy. He would have loved it...
For the ride back to the car we took the dirt footpath to the right of Canada Road and pretended were out on a real mt. bike trail. Maybe next time we'll go out on a real trail....
Respectfully Submitted,
TeamMomLisaa