"There is no good in arguing with the inevitable.
The only argument available with a (north) east wind
is to put on your overcoat."
James Russell Lowell
"At least we should have a strong tail wind on the way back!"
Such were the words (and hopes) of many of the forty-nine riders upon embarking on a recent 200 kilometer bike ride along the Pacific Coast Highway. A brisk northeasterly wind sent our eager cyclists southward to Trancas, some thirty-five miles distant from the start in Ventura. Our hardy band of three Old Kranks, (Carter "Big Mac" Mcintyre, Tom "Easy Rider" Bunker, and Earl "Olaf" Magpiong), adequately prepared for darkness, cold, and fatigue, were quickly joined by a fourth intrepid biker, Jeff from Whittier. Jeff would prove to be a very companionable and easy-going comrade. Temperatures were in the upper 40s not so cold that it was uncomfortable, but cool enough to comfortably wear long pants, gloves, and bank robber masks. It was the wind that made the ride memorable.
Through Oxnard Shores, Point Mugu, past "split rock" and Neptune's net, and along the Highway into the first check point, the merciless wind wreaked havoc on our collective souls. There were times I thought I would be blown onto the berm; Tom, pedaling quickly to get a "head start" on a climb, was stopped almost dead in his tracks; Carter had his jacket ripped open by a surprise blast of wind. Yet despite the nerve-shattering headwinds, our quixotic quartet, with the infinite patience born of experience, checked in with time to spare. But we weren't last...yet. (Editor's Note: Riders must check in at various stations within certain time limits in order to insure a timely completion of a organized brevet). While, as most of you know, a strong wind can be very disheartening, there had been no whining, nor cursing, nor complaining and this would prove to be true throughout our endeavor.
We saw the sun rise over Mt. Laguna and the full moon set into the crystal clear and white-capped Pacific Ocean somewhere over the Channel Islands National Park; we saw dolphins frolicing along the shore; we greeted each of our fellow cyclists who were passing us on their way back to Ventura, (and beyond); and we wondered why, if the moon is reflected sun-light, a full moon doesn't kill a vampire. Blowing sand and dust does something to the mind.
On our way back to Ventura, we indeed took advantage of a strong tailwind averaging 25 mph for about five miles; northerly, it was a different story. While not as strong as a gusting quarterly wind, the facing headwinds nevertheless continued to provoke us, especially when we were so close to lunch and one of us got two flat tires, two hundred yards apart. Thank you Big Mac for having tweezers!
At the lunch stop, we learned that the Old Kranks ride to Ojai went off as scheduled; our three O.K.s were more than pleased to know that the threat of strong winds would not keep our fellow Krankers from their pleasures.
On to Montecito along very familiar territory. (Jeff took comfort in "allowing" us to navigate the southerly route for him; however, he had lived in Summerland for a while, so he knew some of the northern passage). Light winds greeted us in the afternoon pleasing us greatly. We were "sure" we would have terrific tailwinds on our return to Ventura. Yah-hoo! Everyone has been hydrating and eating well and we would be amply rewarded for our endeavor by stopping at Foster's Freeze in Carpinteria for our customary milk shake. Oh yeah!
The first inkling that something was not going "right" was when Foster, on his way back down San Ysidro, saw us coming up the hill and exclaimed, "Slow down; you're too early!" At the lunch station we learned we were not last. Would this be the end of our streak of consecutive Lanterne Rouge finishes? Why are we going so fast? At the turn-around in Montecito our picture was taken ("Testacles!), water bottles filled, "brevets" signed, and the usual conversation limited: We wanted/needed to get off the stretch of freeway between Bates Rd. and Seacliff Rd. before dark. An executive decision had been made: No milk shake stop. Time to get serious, even though we had until 8 PM to qualify for finishing the ride. And, although it wasn't cold, maybe a milk shake would have been too "cold" for our bodies. No wind, not even a tailwind, and we did get off the freeway before dark--4:45. Again, no complaining or whining about too cold, no Foster's Freeze, getting dark, etc. A most companionable group. I hate the stretch of road from Seacliff to Emma Woods.
We saw the sun set over Channel Islands National Park and when we got off the bike path onto Main St. in Ventura we saw the full (again) moon rise over the eucalyptus trees bordering the Ventura River. Beautiful; both sights within minutes of each other.
Approximately eleven hours after the start we completed our assigned task.
Congratulations to Carter for finishing his first (but not last brevet), to Jeff from Whittier for putting up with us for eleven hours, and to all the other cyclists for participating in this event. Unfortunately, or not, Earl and Tom had to relinquish their hold on the Red Lantern; maybe next time. Thanks to all the volunteers, as well. il est bien fait!
P.S. Surprise! Surprise! On the Sunday morning Krank ride our bold and resolute Krank(y) threesome were eventually rewarded for Outstanding Achievement in Perpetual Motion: Milk shakes from Foster's Freeze compliments of Olaf. Seems some things are just too important to be given up so easily no matter what the rationale.
"The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind."
Bob Dylan