East Bay CAT ride 1

Route


So they call it the East Bay because it is East of the Bay, that makes perfect sense. The organizers of the training ride called it "CAT 1" (category 1?) because it is the least difficult of the training rides, or it was suppose to be. In truth and experience, it was one of the most physically challenging 4 hours of my life. I've never done that much demanding work for that amount of time, and, frankly I was surprised at how well I handled it.

Turns out, I was at a significant disadvantage due to my bike. I've got two large rings on my crank, you see. Most people there had a triple, with a smaller front ring (gear). This meant they could gear down quite a bit more than me on the big climbs--there were some substantial vertical impediments. People with a triple can "spin" faster up the hills, effectively exerting less energy (but going at a slower speed). During the climbs I would catchup to people, then lag behind on flats (cause I was too tired to expend energy for speed).

The good news is I was at the front of the pack for most of the time despite my handicap. In addition to harder gearing, I had done the entire Tiburon loop (50 miles from my house) the day before! As you can imagine, I was not on completely fresh legs. I like to brag when I can, and now is a good time. I'm strong and I kicked ass.

Along with the overt ego boost, the ride offered some of the best scenary I've yet experienced in the Bay Area. Marin is beautiful, not doubt. But the East Bay has a particular charm that is not easily described (secretely suburban?). The parts I was biking through on the file quarter of the ride were wooded and hilly, with glimpses through the foliage to deep valleys bottomed with streams And on and on it seems to go eastward. Again, you have the curious growth trees in the hollows and creases of these hills. Some hillsides will be covered with greenery and others, barely a little grass. I suppose it is only curious because I grew up in Maine, and there you have forest literally everywhere, except for where the land as been cleared for agriculture. Vermont, more heavily farmed than Maine, offers the a complete contrast from the hills of northern California. Vermont's Valleys are flat and broad and filled with low brush or crops. The hills are forested.

About 15 miles into the ride and just after a long 2 mile climb we reached Skyline Blvd in the Berkeley hills. I could hardly believe I was in the same part of the world as those rolling, green hills I looked upon 10 minutes earlier. Stretched out before me was almost entire Bay Area, a white urban sprawl, lapping the bay on all interior sides. With all my time out here a sense of scale as not been forthcoming. With 6 million people living in the Bay Area, I thought it not possible to gaze on it in with a sweep of my head from any high point. But here, I did exactly that.




Our climbing was not done just yet. Along Skyline there were more uphills. Dipping back into cool Eucalyptus and Redwood forests we were presented with more inclining road. The road snaked around and was mostly cut into the hillside. Landslides are something of a daily event here, as evidenced by the large rocks laying at the feet of sheer cliffs, feet that doubled as the breakdown lane. As in Marin, people love to literally live on the edge in the Berkeley hills. Houses were perched impossibly on the sheer slides of hills. The hills themselves appeared to be composed of very loose soil. A heavy rain and a concurrent moderate earthquake could send all these very lovely dwellings careening down the hillsides; hapless macro-sleds of destruction. I think I invented a new extreme sport.

I met a really cool, very positive and energetic guy named Steve. On the few, brief rest stops I allowed myself we introduced and then reintroduced ourselves. There was a bail out point at mile 30, and I was more than tempted by the thought of gorging myself on something fat and greasy back in the city, instead of finishing the rest of the ride. Steve's energy arched over that temptation and gave me the clarity to see the symbolism in pressing on. After all, I committed to this challenge as a way identify with people in this country living with HIV. The ride is similar to the daily struggle for HIV+ individuals to stay healthy, to abstain from destructive behavior, despite the side-effects of drugs they must take to keep the virus at bay. It also symbolizes the perseverance HIV/AIDS researches must possess to study this continually frustrating disease. Lastly, and let me not forget, the tenacity of individuals on the front line of the pandemic, the selfless health care and social workers in Sub-Saharan Africa, India, Russia and China. I strive to have a quarter of their commitment, and they will be battling every effect and aspect of this pandemic long after I've completed my trip to LA.

Descending on the last leg of the ride, along San Pablo Dam road, I was met with a serene view of the San Pablo Reservoir, set against those beautiful Nor-Cal hills.

I reached the BART station and met up with Steve once again. We chatted for the entire train ride back to the city. He was/is Kansas native: grew up there, went to college there. He has been here as long as I have, living with his girlfriend on Market street. I decided that I've not meet a person from the Mid West I've not liked.

So, that's it. 50 miles down yesterday, 90 miles in the past two days: all be good and ready come June! If you are reading this remember to help me raise money for AID/HIV research and services. Kindly Donate at: AIDSLIFECYCLE.ORG/5423