No, your eyes do not deceive you.  I am, as the song goes, back in the saddle again!  Having missed about 2 months of rides due to various reasons – skiing, weather, sheer exhaustion, disgust at getting up at 6:00 a.m. on a weekend – I decided to join those great and near great ingrates of the RCY for a mountain bike challenge.

 

The morning began like most, with me being ticked off at my alarm clock for making the night pass so quickly (I could have sworn I had just closed my eyes only moments before the bubbling brook and chirping birds that is my alarm clock disturbed me from my restful slumber) and our dogs, Dave and George, excited at the prospect of a delicious breakfast of kibble and by-products of some kind.  I gulped down a cup of coffee to jump start my body, shoveled a bowlful of oatmeal down my throat, took care of personal morning business that is best left unsaid, packed up the car and hit the road.  First, though, I had to defrost my windshield – not, I thought, a good sign for the ride ahead.

 

I was actually the first to arrive this morning at the top of Reseda, and thought perhaps the mountain biking gods were playing a joke on me, but soon Joe arrived with a look of surprise on his face at seeing me.  Reuben was right behind him equally surprised, though pleased, to see me.  Robco drove by and almost crashed into a tree upon noting I was present, much to the chagrin of me and Rod who had just shown up himself.  John rode up on his bike and George arrived, rounding out a small but respectable group of 7 riders.

 

We began our ride taking the steep but short trail up to dirt Mulholland.  I was surprised that my legs allowed me to get up there without too much trouble.  At the top, we briefly debated which way to go and decided to head on towards Sullivan Canyon, although none of us thought riding in the canyon without pontoons on our bike would be a good idea.  For those who don’t know, Sullivan Canyon, after a rain, can make it seem as though you are riding your bike down a river, much like Humphrey Bogart and Katherine Hepburn in African Queen, but with me being the only leech.

 

During the course of the ride, all of our tires became caked so thickly with mud that it looked to the untrained eye (mine) that the tires had literally doubled in size.  Not only that, but the rolling weight of our tires caked with this yucky, soft, glue-like substance probably doubled, making the going much harder than you might imagine.  At several points along the way, we would stop to remove this mortar from our bikes because the dirt and debris interfered with the safe and proper operation of our velocipedes.  I tried peeling some of the sticky slime off various parts of my bike by hand and found the mud had the texture and consistency of a nice soft bowel movement.  Out of curiosity, due to the fact that these trails are used by horses and dogs and various wild animals, I checked, but it neither smelled nor tasted as such, and I was much relieved.  A bit reviled as well by my colleagues I should imagine.

 

It was a rather ingenious route that we democratically chose, taking us over the aforesaid mud and slime passed the fire road to Sullivan Canyon in favor of the Westridge Single track over to Hollyhock and down to Mandeville Canyon.  From there we did a road ride for about a half mile to Green Land (as opposed to Greenland which is covered with ice versus Iceland which is mostly green) and climbed back up to Westridge, taking the fire road back up to the Nike Missile base and down to dirt Mulholland for the round trip back to our cars and about 16.5 glorious, scenic mountain miles of fun.

 

It was truly a rollicking good time, with cool temperatures and crisp, clean air.  I thank all of you for being patient and waiting for me as I slogged up the hills at my own, out of shape pace.  Kudos to Robco for babysitting me and making sure I actually made it up most of the climbs.  In the wild, animals that fall behind are generally preyed upon and eaten by predators, so while I am the Red Lantern when I am on the road, in the mountains I guess I am just a meal.  Robco kept me from being eaten today.

 

After the ride, Rob, Rod and I went to Greystoke for a delicious meal and the usual enjoyable company and conversation.  These are among the best times of the rides for me because I no longer have an uncomfortable seat shoved between my thighs, I get to be with good friends, and no one has to wait for me unless I’m in the bathroom with a magazine. 

 

Thanks for a great time this morning guys.  I hope to be out at Los Robles tomorrow to continue with the gaiety and merriment!

 

Uncle Louie