900604	0905

PBP 400k

Up, eat, finish packing.  Had left myself a bit too much to do in the AM, but 
got out in reasonable time and arrived in good shape.  Davis, Jaye, and 
Michael were already there.  We still managed to leave about 10 minutes 
late, it's become traditional.

It was clear and looked like it would be a warm day.  But the air was quite 
cool and I was happy in a long-sleeve jersey and tights.  My hands were 
cold for a while.  The run to Monte Rio has gotten to be very familiar, even 
routine.  We did pick up Caroline Berson, a young Grizzly Peak lady.  I took 
particular notice of her as we went up the brief climb into Occidental.  
She was out front, spinning very fast and climbing like a daemon.  She 
wound up riding the rest of the way with us.  Reminds me a lot of Elaine, 
same build, young and enthusiastic, has only been riding a year. 

Another treat was waiting for us at the Monte Rio checkstation - Kim 
Freitas.  Really attractive woman, slight blond, short hair, no tits, 
cyclists legs, wonderful attitude.  Would love to pursue her acquaintence, 
unfortunately, she lives in Palo Alto.  She also heard Elaine talk about 
CCCP at her bike club.

From Monte Rio, we went East through the hills all the way to Saint 
Helena.  Very hilly section, tough climb on Spring Mountain Road.  
Fortunately, the remainder of the ride was essentially flat.  Jay had a very 
hard time and arrived at the second checkpoint in St Helena thoroughly 
cooked and demoralized, thinking of dropping out.  Scott, the chunky, 
friendly young guy who always says hello to me was sitting there.  He had 
crashed and injured his shoulder.  He also blew my cover with Caroline by 
asking me about Elaine. 

I had some second thoughts, of which I am ashamed, about encouraging Jay.  
I didn't want to be slowed down.  But we did encourage him and we stopped 
in Calistoga and ate.   I ate an entire turkey sandwich.  I was doing pretty 
well on Impact and other snacks, I didn't want to eat the whole sandwich, 
but I stuffed it down.
 

We cranked along in a little paceline, the five of us.  In Geyserville, we 
picked up Bob from Tucson and the six of us rode the remainder of the 
distance together.  At the Geurneville checkpoint, 300km, I got a second 
look at Kim - she wears well.  We ate again.  A nice hamburger and a 
chocolate shake. I was still feeling pretty good.  It had been only slightly 
warm, clouds had kept it from cooking.  I put my warm clothes back on for 
the trip down the coast.  I was suffering from a lot of gas, went into 
belching fits and my colon felt like it might explode - farts had become 
dangerous.  Davis had a flat just before the coast and I seized the 
opportunity to crap.  I also got a group-grope going.  Bob is a very good 
massage guy.

The wind on the coast was modest.  It got dark before we got to Valley 
Ford and we all put on our various lights.  I wasn't eating any of my fig 
bars, power bars or other solid foot, but I felt OK with the hamburger and I 
was greedily drinking Impact.  It tasted really good and I would tear 
through 5-6 swallows when I only meant to do 3.  Then I suffered a 
serious setback.  I was into one of my belching fits, 5 or more in a row, 
when it got out of control and my stomach went into a spasm.  I almost 
puked.  

After that, I couldn't drink the impact without getting nauseous and I 
started to fade badly.  I had been riding off the front without even being 
aware of it, but I got to the point where I couldn't stay with it on the 
hills.  Jay (who had recovered quite nicely and was pulling strongly again) 
returned my earlier advice to him and insisted that I try to eat.  I got 
blown off very badly climbing the hill on the Point Reyes-Petaluma Road.  
Eventually, I decided to force down the remaining half of my power bar.  It 
was difficult and it almost didn't stay down, but it worked!  My energy 
came back, I caught up with the folks (granted, they had been dawdling), 
and I kept up with them.  I stayed in contact with Davis and Michael, who 
raced up Lucas Valley, but I got scrubbed off a few hundred yards from the 
top.  Only a few minutes earlier, I would have predicted that I would show 
up last of the 6, so I was more than satisfied.

At the cars, I was shivering uncontrollably.  Jay had brought some RedTail 
Ale, which was a life-saver.  We hung around for a while and bade farewell 
to Bob and Caroline.  It was a swell little group and I enjoyed their 
company a lot.  Drove home quite tired, left the stuff in the car, showered 
and crashed.  Only drank a mineral water.  Slept like the dead, no cramps, 
no nothing.

Sunday morning at 9, I rode 33 miles with Cindy, felt good.  Slow, but 
good.   It was wonderful, warm, and sunny.  I love Cindy, she's good energy.  
How to love a lesbian?  Doesn't matter.  We talked about which was Papa 
Bear, Momma Bear, and Baby Bear.  I told her we should just decide the 
story and stick to it - if challanged, I will pull rank and say I rode there in 
the 60s before there were any Bears.  I told Cindy that I rode there before 
there was a dam, no Bears.

Box score:

Got up at 0400.  We started riding at 0610, finished around 1230, or about 
18.5 hours total.  (I didn't note the time!  Couldn't read my watch in the 
dark, needed my flashlight and glasses, too tired to do it!).  Our riding time 
was 15:48:56 for 253.7 miles (a little high), for an average of 15.9 mph.  
Our little group of 6 made it 21 who had finished, there were still 22 out 
on the course.  I got home, showered and crashed about 2600 (2AM Sunday).