Chapter 16: This One Goes to 11

This Saturday morning, our trusty Death Riders find themselves gathered around a Pumpkin Patch.  How exciting!  But there are no pumpkins because the patch is closed.  And it is May.  And how would we carry pumpkins on our bike?  So off we go!

First up on our adventure is up Mines Road.  This is a very pretty road, winding up the hills of the San Antonio Valley.   But why is it is called Mines Road?  Is there a Mr. Mines?  Was there a Mine?  Was it Gold?  So many questions asked and no answers because we are on our bikes.  And Googling While Riding (GWR) is a no-no.

Sometimes, when you are tired and feeling a bit blue, all you need is a viking to cheer you up.  Aren't we lucky!  This ride is getting better and better!  Hello Mr. Viking!

Even though there was a viking, we are actually in a remote area.  Remote means not a lot of people.  But there are lots and lots of ground squirrels.  So it's not remote for the squirrels.  Maybe it's like New York City for squirrels.

On our way to our next hill, we saw lots of dead squirrels on the road.  I saw four in a row.  I imagined that the squirrels were in a dual.  Maybe over some prime squirrel property.  Or a lady squirrel's honor.  They met a dawn and stood back to back.  Each walked 10 paces and were ready to draw their little squirrel guns, but then a car came fast down the road and killed them all.  Poor squirrels.

Now that the squirrels were all dead, we decided to head up to Mt. Hamilton.  Up, up, up we go!  Sometime we like to chat while we bike.  And sometimes we just grunt when the hills are steep.  Grunt grunt grunt.   We are not being mean.  We just don't have enough air in our lungs to talk.  So we think alot, and ask questions like,  Why is it called Mt. Hamilton?  Is it after President Hamilton?  Which president was he?   Why is Coach Jim so mean?  What exactly is at the top that we really want to see?

Again, since we have a No GWR rule, many questions are left unanswered.  But at the top, we did find the Lick Observatory!  How pretty!  The building has a round top and marble floors, which feels nice on your sock-footed feet.  There is a No Cleat Rule in the Observatory.  There is a sofa in the bathroom, but we know that we are not allowed to nap in the bathroom because that is kind of gross.  And coach Phil would not be happy with us.  This ride has many rules.

After we have a snack of soda and potato chips (mom would not be happy), we ride down, down, down!  Weeeeeeee! It's very fun to go fast.  I like the feeling of the wind on my face and the sweat stinging my eyes.  It makes me feel happy or like that time I sprayed sunscreen in my face.  On my way down, I hit a big bump.  Boom!  I see my water bottle fly off of my bike and go bump bump bump along the road.  But when I look down at my bike, my water bottle is still there.  Uh oh.  Must be something else, like my phone.  Good thing Coach Phil was with me.  We go on a safari in the weeds on the side of the road.  I pretend I am a wild animal hunting for prey.  I search high and low and far and wide, but cannot find the phone.  I decide that hunting is taking too much time and our teammates will be annoyed with me.  So I give up and go back to my bike.  When I pick up my bike off the ground, I see my phone hiding under the rear wheel.  Tricky phone!

Onward! Soon we are somewhere deep in San Jose.  We are headed for our last climb of the day. It is very hot outside and I am very tired already.  So the best thing to do in times like this is to climb the hardest, steepest f'ing hill of your life.  Sierra Road is 4 miles of hardness. On a scale of 1-10, it is an 11, like they say in that funny movie about fake rock stars.  I learn that I can go 2.7 miles per hour and not fall over.  It's sort of like a science lesson.  Only I'd rather be in science class dissecting the intestines of a rat then on that hill.

Sometimes you have to have talks with yourself.  Tell yourself you are allowed to stop, if you make it to the next spot of shade or the next tree.  Or tell yourself you are allowed to vomit, but only after you make it over this bump in the road.  Or that your stupid, sick husband who is at home and napping on the sofa is the lamest person there ever was and you are way cooler than he is, but only if you don't walk your bike.  All the talking works, and we arrive safely at the top of the hill!  Hooray!


And finally, we get to go down down down all the way home back to the pumpkin patch.

The End.

PS.  Do you like my story?  If so, consider making a donation to my fundraising effort.  All this storytelling is not just to entertain you, after all.  It's so we can cure cancer!  I'm trying to read $5000, can you help?  Maybe I'll even write another chapter if we get to $5000!