Blink and You’ll Miss ME
Hint – follow the chocolate.
Cory is all zooted up, I dressed to kill, but mostly Joaquin was that night’s star.
Born in Cadiz Spain but currently living in Paris, and distinguished by a very London-inflected version oof English this messenger/film festival organizer turned 4o two days ago, on our “Reno day”.
Forty is roughly twice the age of our average twenny-sumpin rider….Both Guillaume and I fabb’d some artwork for him: from me, a cheesy 8-page chapbook, all about what a big heart he has (featuring a Victorian medical illustration of a heart) and from Phillippe a group of us riders holding a giant Mavic wheel festooned with forty candles.
The evening’s 42 below ‘event’ (at Scruples bar, ‘open 24 hours’) featured precisely no people from 42 below, and barely any other people. Fine beer and pretty good nachos filled us up while we yakked with the six-or-so local cyclists from the Reno community. The void from 42 below was palpable..and how we pined to be put to work!
Luckily Mikeywally’s auntie Guna came…she’s an age-group ski champ…and Greg Lemond’s nephew was there. Reno is “Lemond-land”…and I was thinking of both him and Inga Thompson (another Reno native who must have ridden Six Mile Canyon a few hundred times in her four-fold Olympic cycling career) as I cruised, then wobbled, and then almost walked the final half mile into Virginia City from low-lying Fallon NV.
The canyon had been intimidating. I think the rumor was that it was a ten mile climb. I was going to bum a ride either from Maa-aaa-aat (our shepherd) or a Stranger in A Pick-Up Truck. Neither proved neccessary, and the climb was interesting from the first mile, when two black dogs trotted ahead of me for a mile, like Cerberus in Hades, until they veered off, leaving massive muddy footprints on the fresh black tarmac. Along side the road, wild rose bushes in profusion, with shiny ripe rose-hips which I picked and ate on principle. When nature offers vitamins and bioflavinoids, I leap to accept.
The descent was barely a fifteen minute uphill amble from Virginia City, and the twenty mile plunge was so speedy I rode the brakes a lot.
Still scared to trust that front wheel with the little metal bit that counts wheel rpms for my computer. Might have to just give up on that; it throws off the fine-tuned balance of thye Shimano Dura-Ace wheel.
The culmination of our evening was the world’s fastest rendition of Happybirthdaytoyouhappybirthdaytoyou and a chocolate cake that he ate without his hands….