Ice Cream Makes Everything Better.

Day 6

85.5 miles. For the love of god, only 85.5 miles.

I woke up (late) on Day 6 to what everyone thought was some hard core domestic violence. I mean, it was bad - sometime around 5am a couple of women started screaming things like "you don't love me" and "why the fuck would you fucking that something and so and so" and so on. People in the tents were a bit concerned . . that is until we heard the line "You never take me to KFC anymore, all you want to do is drink Bud Light and to cow tipping" Ah yes, it was Jerry Springer Day at the Gear Trucks.


And a little of this for good measure - and well, good back muscles . . .


This is the true magic of the roadies. Everyone, literally everyone, was pretty grumpy and tired and kittified on Day 6, residual discomfort from Day 5. So the Roadies got together and decided to stage a little red neck play to make everyone laugh and break some of the tension. Heart them.

Side note: I'll be stealing this idea to carry my own babies some day.

Anyway:

Elaine was gone by the time I woke up and I was stuck taking down the tent which added a good 20 minutes to my morning. I was maybe dreading this morning a little because I knew my tire was slowly leaking at the end of the Day 5 . . . yes, I rode the end of the most miserable day on a slightly less than full tire . . . yes, I'm stupid.

Anyway, I was totally flat when I got to my bike in the morning . . . which means I got to have one more awkward moment of a man trying to "fill me up" after watching me struggle (although I was doing just fine thank you.)

So yeah, someone else pumped it up and I decided to try and get some distance behind me before I had to change the tire. The good news is that right out of the gate was a giant hill, so I got to work extra hard pumping up the hill on low tires . . . fail.

I was beyond delighted when I made it to Rest Stop 1. I ate first, then sun screened, then buttered, then went about changing my tire. Which was going great until I realized I was allergic to the hay I was sitting in AND that it was full of spiders . . .



I stayed calm, took my time, worked with confidence - you know, so no one would offer to help me. And that part was totally successful. Of course when I tired to pump it up . . . I failed . . . and the man next to me tired to help me but he also failed. And this dance went on for a bit until I realized that my late running morning meant that I was about 10 minutes away from getting swept to the next rest stop. Fuck.

I quickly took my bike over to the Cannondale Tent to have the yummy techs take a look at it. Had to buy a new tube from them and they also noticed a broken derailleur cap which needed fixin' so I bought a new one of those too . . . 2 minutes prior to the rest stop closing and I was back on the road.

My bike at the bike doctors.

Interestingly enough, this ended up being the best thing that could have happened. I was so hell bent on not getting swept or sagged (and let's be honest, I had no desire to be the last person into camp either) that I mustered up a lot more energy that i was willing to admit I had when I got out of bed. I rocked through the knee discomfort and managed to hold a respectable pace for the majority of the day . . .

Rest stop 2 was a much happier experience.

Look how happy I look.


It's because I have rider crack in my hand.

And Butter on my ass.

And I got to call Rooster to leave a message before dropping my phone into the middle of the bushes behind me.


And this flower has a happy face on it, so how could I not be happy?

And, I was 20 more miles closer to home.

So back on my bike again . . . As I have said, the biking gets really tedious. At least we have had some coastal views and stuff, but really, when you're riding on freeways, you don't get to enjoy the view. At this point I am no longer able to muster up thoughts if wind, and internal psychological struggles. Instead, I spend all of my time playing "ID that road kill" and "Count to 8 as many times as you can in a row."

One thing that I will admit is kind of fun is the "What's this rider going to say to me game."

When you come up to a rider, you have to say "On your left" before you can pass. It's pretty much a law because it can cause major accidents if some one doesn't know you're passing and moves left, moving you into oncoming traffic. BNB.

So most riders just say "Left" or "On your left" or "Passing Left" etc. But then there are some riders that take advantage of the 4 second passing window to have little interactions . . . lots of people will say "good morning" some people will say "how about those little ponies" and my favorites will always try and use their four seconds to come up with something totally witty to say.

I always tried to be witty -so as soon as I passed someone I would go about deciding on the next most intelligent thing I could say . . . my favorite was when I was headed up a hill and told a man "Well, this beats the hell out of my day job" and he replied "I like my day job."

Anyway, this and the road kill game, that's all that happens on the road.

Lunch was unmemorable. Srsly. I can't even remember where we ate lunch, let alone what I ate or who I met in the line for the port a potty.

The rest of the day is pretty rides along the beach paths of Santa Barbara.

We had another Alice in Wonderland themed rest stop - where I saw this little scene.


And after this we come to yet another amazing unofficial rest stop . . .

PARADISE PIT.

Now, you may have an idea of your own as to what you would find in a paradise pit . . . but this paradise pit pretty much hit my idea on the nose . . .

All the free ice cream you want with all the free toppings you want.



All the free cookies you want.


All the free massages you want.

And the hottest biker you have seen today with his biker package on display in a really impressive way for you to creeper take a picture of which didn't come out for you to send to Diva sorry Diva.



And this guy.

Who is standing in front of a quilt ice cream cone.


And well, Ginger dressed up as a Hersey's kiss is pretty classic too.



Srsly. LOOK HOW HAPPY I WAS.


Srsly - paradise pit is put on by a local high school's LGBT club. Thank you to everyone in the community who made this stop possible. You all made my life.

At this point - my notes again digress to things like

"Water Stop = pain pain pain pain pain"

I think that means my knees were hurting pretty bad by mile 70.

Rounding out Santa Barbara on the way to Ventura for our last night at camp, I came around a corner and there was a BEAN standing there. I pretty much just cried. There was actually a human being there to see ME and give ME a hug. Someone I know and love. A familiar face. A friend. It was the first hug I'd had since I left San Fran and really, the first human touch of any kind save my day with the Chiro. I was totally overwhelmed with emotions and joy and everything else.

It was great.

Thanks BEAN!!!!

So with some new energy and fighting a flood of random emotions I had no way of controlling . . . I rolled into camp - well ahead of the sweep - in a lot of pain - and thrilled to be home for the night.

I made it into camp just a few short minutes prior to Tony, the oldest man on the ride at a glorious 85 years . . . yeah . . .

And I got to park my bike in Colorado parking which can only be a good sign.


And here is a picture of the port a potties which I was SUPER GLAD to find right next to bike parking.


Camp that night was a little somber. We heard a speech from the gentleman who wrecked in San Fran on Day 1 last year - he had a lot of brain damage and was in the hospital for months - but was able to come back and talk to us about his journey and share some love on the safety.

Then we had the candle light vigil which I considered not attending because I wasn't sure I belonged . . . it's actually a very pretty march from just outside the food tent to the beach where everyone silently forms a large circle and it's all very organic, no one talks, no one takes pictures. So, I decide to go to pay my respects to all the people I didn't get a chance to meet on the ride. I get my candle and I'm walking along and right about when I get into the middle of the circle I realize that my wax containment cup is on fire. Fuck. Right. So now, I'm on the ground in the middle of the circle burying my candle, the symbolic light of hope and love in the sand - with everyone watching. Great Sarah, way to be respectful.

Back in tent city I called Sunny to arrange for our reuniting on Day 7 and went to bed.