Katie on Santa Barbara Beach

This past weekend Katie and I met up with my parents in California for my cousin’s wedding.  I had not seen Ian in over a decade and never met his wife – I had no idea what to expect.  Katie however, long holding a dream of being a California girl, was not concerned; she adores any thought of beaches and oceans.  We rented a moderately sized townhouse four blocks from State Street and approximately a mile from the ocean.  Being two couples, the townhouse was a spectacular deal when compared to renting a pair of hotel rooms.  Further, having a full kitchen and living room is really comfortable as opposed to being cramped in a small room.  The weather forecast had predicted temperatures with highs in the 70s for our entire trip; this grew to be a running joke.

On Friday morning we drove to the wine country with the intention of cycling; unfortunately we arrived in Santa Ynez at 11 am when the temperature had already reached 98 degrees F.  We aborted the cycling plans for the day and enjoyed lunch before venturing out to a lavender farm and the Alma Rosa Winery.  The organic Pinot Noir wines were stellar, though my palette is far from sophisticated.  On our way back to Santa Barbara we stopped at a small roadside stand and purchased the juiciest strawberries ever!  Concluding our overheated day we ate Southwestern for dinner at Left at Albuquergue where we unintentionally ran into the rehearsal dinner for the wedding party.

Dana and Dan in Wine Country

Katie and Dan at Alma Rosa

The next morning we woke early and headed back to Santa Ynez for a second attempt to rent road bikes.  Pulling into Santa Barbara Wine County Cycling Tours at 9 am the temperature was 70 degrees F and we were roaring to go.  My father rented a carbon Specialized Roubaix Compact while Katie and I took aluminum Specialized Allez Sport Triples.  The store had a decent selection of pedals so we were all able to use our regular road biking shoes.  Unfortunately the store did not seem to have a good maintenance program for the bikes.  Both of the rear derailleurs on the Allez bikes were horribly out of alignment; while mine was easily fixed with the barrel adjuster I could not get Katie’s to stop jumping.  After watching her ride I could easily see that a link in the chain was not bending as it went through the derailleur – I can only imagine how miserable the later parts of the ride were for her.  Compared to my steel Lemond bike, the aluminum frames conveyed every little bump in the road.  My other complaint was the route recommendation.  We asked for a 30-35 mile loop suggestion; I turned us around at 20 miles with the turn for the loop obviously still miles off.  We returned to the shop at 11:45 am as the temperatures rapidly approached triple digits.

That afternoon the wedding was held in a beautiful setting at the outdoor atrium of the Fess Parker.  My family learned something important at the wedding when we saw people enjoying the 98 degree F ceremony in shorts – events that you would normally wear formal clothes can be drastically dressed down in California.  The wedding and reception were completely first class and it was wonderful to catch up with family infrequently seen.

Santa Barbara Sea Lions

Katie Kayaking in Santa Barbara

On Sunday morning Katie and I wanted to go surfing; unfortunately my complete inability to read surf forecasts led us to believe the surf would be awful.  How wrong I was.  We rented sit-on-top kayaks from Paddle Sports of Santa Barbara and paddled out of the harbor.  We initially headed out to a buoy that was known to carry a number of lazy sea lions; it did not disappoint.  The sea lions reminded us of Sherbert as they contorted their bodies to rest their heads.    Up the coast we ran into small waves that were ideal for surfers of our caliper.  We returned to port before driving back into the hills to a biker bar for lunch with the extended family.  Continuing the trend of heat, it was 101 degrees F with no air conditioning.  We all went back to the townhouse to crash in the air conditioning before closing out the trip with wonderful seafood at the FisHouse.  The next morning we flew home out of LAX and saw the ever growing fires billowing smoke into the sky.

Related posts:

1. My Bikes: 2001 Lemond Buenos Aires Triple Road Bike Dan Corbett's First Road Bike, a 2001 Lemond Buenos Aires...

Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.

Road Bike: 2001 Lemond Buenos Aires Triple

2001 Lemond Buenos Aires Road Bike

Ah, steel.  I used to get a lot of fun looks when I told people that I had a steel bike; these days more and more are saying they wish they had one.  The ride, especially when coupled with the carbon fork, is extremely compliant.  The bike was definitely designed for a more casual rider who wanted an excellent mix of performance and comfort.  My number one complaint is that when I do a hard acceleration I frequently pull the rear wheel free of the horizontal dropouts.  Unsurprisingly the handling is a bit slow and the bike cannot climb as well as present day replacements (though I am sure most of that is me, the bikes I have demoed show that the bike is playing a part).  All of which is fine – I don’t race.  Overall the bike has been really good to me (I put a complete new Shimano 105 groupset on the bike last year – the cable adjuster on the front tube is helpful given the touchy new 10 speed rear derailleur ) and a wonderful introduction to cycling.  The more relaxed position and smooth ride surely played a major part in my present obsession with cycling.  While I cannot promise to buy another steel bike, I will certainly give a custom steel frame strong consideration.

—————

My first “real” bike in years; my father was on a huge bike kick at the time and was more excited about his new bike and the prospect of me getting a road bike. Lance was winning the tour, Trek was getting awesome coverage in Wisconsin, and I was not overly sold on bicycles. My dad bought me the bike anyways. It was one of the best things to ever happen to me.

Now an avid rider, I cannot thank my father enough for giving me the push into cycling. I have taken the bike everywhere I have lived and have many memories from each state. While some are better than others, I have really enjoyed my bike.  I have ridden all over the Madison area – the western hills are particularly enjoyable. The bike traveled with me to Lehigh University in Pennsylvania where I enjoyed countless scenic rides in farm county. When I did an internship in Colorado Springs I learned that Pennsylvania does not really have mountains and that I am not a very good climber. My first job out of school took me to Salem, OR with its challenging rolling hills, coastal range mountains, and occasional vineyards. While I rode in college, it was not until I graduated and moved to Salem that I started riding consistently. Occasionally I would even venture up to Portland and see lots of other cyclists.

I was transferred for work to Memphis, TN where I discovered that whereas some parts of the country do not have many cyclists this part was downright hostile to them; guys in pickups threw half empty beer cans at me on almost every ride. Continuing the trend of fear, I had two individuals, on separate occasions, follow me for a distance until a large open area appeared (I thought an unpleasant altercation was about to occur) but said they were inspired to see someone riding (again, no one rides in Memphis). My favorite quote from my time in the south was when I asked the HR manager if there was shower so I could ride my 17 mile commute into work. His response: “There’s a hose out back”.

I was again transferred, this time to Albert Lea, MN headed into winter. Similar to Memphis, I never saw another rider. Unlike the heat of Memphis, I froze my butt off on almost every ride. My rides always concluded with a cup of tea at the Starbucks where the high school aged baristas all thought I was on crack; perhaps if they took up cycling it would decrease the horrendously high teenage pregnancy rates in the town. Or not.

Finally I quit that job and moved to Boulder, a town that truly loves cyclists. The only time I have not seen anyone else on the road was the day I accidentally commuted in with the temperature at negative 15 F (I missed the negative sign on the temperature when I checked in the morning; I know, I am an idiot). I still am not much of a climber, but I put in plenty of rides in a place where my Buenos Aires and I are fully accepted.

No related posts.

Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.