BIKING.

In lieu of finding housing, I have taken up biking☺ Megan has been shopping and test riding and comparing prices and calling bike experts like Gordy and Ruth. FINALLY on Saturday morning she made a purchase. It really wasn’t a question of when she was going to buy it this weekend though: it was where. We got up and ventured to a bike shop we hadn’t been to which was recommended by her PT, in another part of the city. I drove because if she made a purchase, I needed to be able to get back home (Megan has a manual, and, no, I still haven’t learned to drive one yet). Anywho…we made it over to Lombardi Sports only to find not-so-knowledgeable sales people, over-priced “beginner road bikes,” and super high-end bikes with price tags soaring well beyond $1500. Megan test road one even though neither of us were stoked about the experience that we were having. Shortly thereafter we made our escape only to find that the trip had cost $50—in a parking ticket. See, in the Mission, where Megan lives there is free parking. You just can’t block a driveway or park on the side of the street where street cleaning will be happening from 7 – 8 am. And on the weekend there isn’t any street cleaning either. The Nob Hill area likes to charge for Saturday parking and will come seek your car out even if you are only parking for a lousy, 30 min Lombardi Sports experience. Boo.

We managed to make it over to Valencia Cyclery where Megan’s dream bike resided. She had tested it time and again, and had fallen in love with it, but she needed to know everything that is available: an informed shopper, that one. Back at in the Mission at VC, we were met by Will, who had helped us/Megan the night before. The bike Megan ended up purchasing is a 2009 Specialized Allez Sport in flat black. It has an aluminum frame with a carbon fork and stay. The components are lower end, but it’s a 9 speed triple, which means that it can be upgraded without too much expense. She/we also fell in love with a TREK 1.2 T (I think?), but it’s 8-speedness meant that an upgrade in components would nearly mean an overhaul because the nicer components are no longer made for 8-speeds. Does it sound like I know what I’m talking about here? I feel like I have a decent idea of what I’m talking about now, after listening to so many bike talks, but I fear that I’m still largely in the dark about the biking world and the wondrous amounts money that can be spent there.

Regardless, we met our goal of a bike ride on Saturday. I was planning on taking her roommate’s bike, however, it was miniature (Korin is not a miniature person, but we aren’t the same size). Thus, I decided to ride Megan’s commuter trail bike. It’s a Specialized from an unknown year with a heavy metal frame, components that work, and original tires that might blow at any time (according to the guy who helped me pump up the nearly flat tires). Together we charted a bike map and took off for Golden Gate Park. Riding a bike there made me realize just how crazy it was that Minkoff and I walked there. What were we thinking? Megan and I rode all the way through the park and out to the ocean. I didn’t touch it this time, but I admired it from afar for sure. The ride back was moderately hilarious as we opted to make a right straight up a hill at one point. Megan powered through the hill, I huffed and puffed my way up. Unfortunately, we got to the top and found that in any given direction we would be going up again: time to resort to the map. We backtracked, though we admittedly were proud of the climb we had just made, even though I felt that my heart my leap from my chest.

Sunday morning Megan and I went to breakfast with some friends who were having a big brunch (to raise money for No on Prop 8). At breakfast, Ness and her friend, Catherine, said they were planning a bike ride for the afternoon. I got excited about exploring with people who knew more what they were doing, and Megan did as well. We all got a later start than we would have liked, but around 3pm we shoved off from the Mission. Our goal: cross the Golden Gate Bridge. The ride started out in regular Market St traffic—slow for biking. We made it to the Embarkadero. Our plan was to ride along it (the edge of the land bordering on the bay) to the Marina and then to cross the bridge there. The Embarkadero proved annoying: the bike lane got little respect, the area was overrun with pedestrians, the smells in the air reminded us of sewage instead of fresh air off the bay. Bummer. Finally we made it to the Marina where the fog had landed. The air cooled a bit. We couldn’t even see the GG Bridge: it was shrouded in fog, not entirely unusual. We rode along the water—I was fascinated by the wind surfers! They speckled the water under the bridge with their colorful little sails. The amount of bodies in the water was mildly disconcerting, but they seemed to know what they were doing. Notice that we were nearly level with the water, watching the surfers. The GG Bridge is not level with the water, in fact, it’s rather high above it. We turned a corner and began our climb. Needless to say, I brought up the rear: did I mention that everyone had a road bike except me? Ness also recently invested in clip-ins, which made her climb even easier. We were all a little jealous. Finally we found ourselves on the bridge! It was exhilarating even though you felt like you were floating through the air—even seeing down to the water was a challenge through the fog! As we neared the other shore, the sun broke free of the clouds. I was stoked to soak it up.

I was relieved when Ness suggested that we venture down the hill back to the water level and stop for dinner/a beer in Sausalito and take the ferry back to the other side. My legs were near cramping after the recent climb. Plus, I was a little chilly. We cruised down a windy road that delivered us into the adorable waterfront in Sausalito. We smelled pizza and allowed our noses to lead us to where our empty tanks could be refueled. Sitting there on the street, we managed to do some people watching: a Rolls Royce was parked directly in front of us. The owner came out, got in on the right side of the car. He was also asked of the car’s year as he settled into his seat: “This is a ’54.” Wow. Impressive. The car was in pristine condition. After the diversion and refueling, we realized that we were all quite cold. We discussed our options. We decided that an efficient stop at Starbucks for hot chocolate would allow us to digest and warm up. Then we would attempt to ride back across the bridge—somewhat to my dismay. However, the ferry ride would have been mighty chilly… The climb back up to the bridge was brutal. Catherine and I struggled in the back as Ness and Megan pulled away. I was grateful for Catherine’s company, without which I might have not completed the hill on the bike. And then, my pride would have been hurt. The rest of our ride was moderately chilly and was punctuated by Megan wanting to take full advantage of her bike speeding ahead on a straight away, and Ness having a little trouble with clipping out before a painfully slow fall. But, really, what owner of clip-ins hasn’t done that?

The remainder of the trip was a little bit of a struggle because none of us wanted to battle any more hills as we made our way back through the city to our respective places of residence—especially in the dark with a decent amount of traffic. We were moderately unprepared for our epic journey: only Ness had bike lights, no one had warm enough clothing (though no one froze because of the hills). Overall, we had a great ride. I think we were all satisfied—and quite tired when we returned. We might become a gang...