FatGuy - Fender Destroyer

It could have been so much worse.  But I think I am going to live … although it hurts to type this … I survived my first bike versus car incident.  That’s the good news.  I have begun to type this from my hospital room at 11.49pm.  But I will rewind to about seven hours ago.

It seemed like another normal commute home.  I did the 4.25pm Ferry and planned my normal 6 mile bike ride home.  I talked a bunch of smack with StravaMo about how I was going to own him on our bet this year.  In fact, I had planned for Mo to do another wacky 50 mile morning, plus 10 mile “errand” plus 17 mile day – gaining 50 miles on our totals.  But his presence on the boat got me excited when I learned that he aborted this morning and just got in a normal 17 mile day.  Sweet!!  I gained a few miles on him today.

After getting off of the boat, a crew of about 5 guys jetted off.  I stayed behind to chat with another buddy for a maximum of 30 seconds.  I accelerated to get out of the parking lot, then slowed as I made my left onto the bike path westbound parallel to Sir Francis Drake.  I slowed in the normal spot, looking left up the driveway into the Wood Island Office Complex, clear.  I accelerated a bit as I got back on the path – which, by the way, doubles as the sidewalk.  I looked left in driveway number one, clear, and the same in driveway number two when all of a sudden a Toyota Tacoma pulled out from the offices into the bike lane.  There was another bicyclist immediately on my right, so I couldn’t veer into SFD (he did).  So braking was my only option.  Unfortunately, my reflexes and my FatGuy inertia won the battle.  I T-Boned the Tacoma right in front of its front, passenger-side wheel.

I’m not sure exactly how it all went down.  But I remember looking down at my handlebars and squeezing the brakes as hard as I could.  Next thing I knew, I was on my butt, on the driver’s side of the Tacoma, in the east bound bike lane on SFD, not quite in the lane of traffic (not to be confused with the west bound bike path where I started).  I sat there for a bit, making sure that all my facilities were generally intact.  The cyclist next to me grabbed my bike and moved it to safety (I think).  Then the driver of the car approached.  I still had my hands on my helmet and my face in my lap.  All I heard was something to the effect of, “Wow, Man, that was an impressive flip you did over my hood.”  By that point, I was pretty sure that I wasn’t dead.  My right hand was throbbing but I felt capable of getting myself up and off of the street.  I stood to an incredible pain in both knees.  Oh crap.  I sat back down on the ledge and just sat quietly, staying silent and wiggling all of my extremities.

Finally I came to and started to chat with the people that stood around.  There was me, the cyclist from next to me, the driver and one other guy.  Everyone was really calm and careful to see whether I was all right.  My most pain remained in my right hand.  But my knees were starting to hurt more, too.  The driver started to chat us up about what happened.  He was careful to not point any fingers (yet) and say how that intersection is so dangerous.  “I see bikers flying through here every day, nearly missing cars”, he said.  He rambled on about how it wasn't his fault and how “we both were kind of at fault” and how it wasn’t fair that “bikes always got the benefit of the doubt when cars and bikes collide”. 

When the pain got more manageable, within a couple of minutes, I stood up and started talking a bit myself.  I took out my camera and took a few pictures of the white scuff marks on his fender and the FatGuy marks on his hood.  According to the driver, he looked left (away from my direction) to check the traffic and when he turned his head back, he saw me flying over the hood of his car.  He claimed to never have seen me coming.  More interesting, he said that he saw me fly over the hood, do a complete mid-air flip, land on my feet on the other side of his car, and then do a somersault on the concrete, landing on my butt.  It truly all happened so fast that I have no clue what really happened.  The driver was really cool, albeit a bit evasive, though.  And I could tell that he was equally traumatized.  The cyclist next to me spoke up and said to the driver, “Well, you did come out a little too fast and too far into the bike path”, but the driver wasn't having it.  I snapped a few more pictures, we exchanged a few more pleasantries, the cyclist gave both of us his contact info, the driver texted me his name and phone number, and we all went our separate ways.

I rode home pretty gingerly, continuing to assess the situation, adrenaline still pumping.  My knees and right hand hurt the most but I was, again, going to live.  I figured out that when I was ejected from the bike, my knees must have somehow hit my handlebars.  The front wheel was riding straight, but the bars were tilted probably 10-15 degrees to the left.  I had to bend the front wheel back into shape from the broken spokes and bent rim, bent the left shifter back into place and I tightened up the front fork.  The weirdest thing of all is that my bottle cage was completely bent and pulled from the frame.

I made it home safely and was greeted, as usual, by my happy kids.  We went straight up to the shower where I could get my clothes off and take a further look.  My knees were both bruised and my right thumb and pinkie was swollen pretty nicely.  I had little scratches on my left elbow, right ankle, and right pec - just above my nipple.

Putting the kids to bed, I rested on the couch until the Missus returned home.  I told her this story and she insisted that I get some x-rays on my hand and knees.  Unlike usual, I agreed and headed to the ER.  So here I sit, waiting for the doctors to see me.

That’s the game day report.  More to follow.  Did I mention that I am not dead?  I think that is the most positive thing can state for right now.

Wicked Witch of the West

This morning, I felt like sleeping in and didn't get out of the house until after 7am.  This opened me up to a whole new crowd.  I guess those that sleep in are a bit on the cranky side.  You would think that the extra sleep would solve some of the drama.

I will share the story via an email chain with one of my commute friends, <<PAL>>.  I have removed the names to protect the guilty ...

An email to my pal ...

On Tue, Feb 5, 2013 at 8:38 AM, <<WHEEL DESTROYER>> wrote:

OK … I have a mission for you.  I need to identify a couple riders.  A male and female combo, she is in her early to mid 40s, he is mid to high 40s.  She had short blonde hair and a bit of a fuzzy face.  Him brown hair with no facial hair.  Both were wearing <<FANCY>> Jerseys.  He had a <<BIKE CLUB>> shorts/pants on (hence my email to you).  NOTE: MY PAL IS A MEMBER OF THE SAME CLUB  He rode a red <<HIGH END>> road bike.  She had a titanium road frame, looked like Motobecane, but probably fancier.  They passed me on Shady Lane (the first time) and she commuted all the way into the City (she was wearing a backpack).  He peeled off after the GGB and headed south towards the Park (he did not have a backpack on).  My guess is that they started in the San Anselmo/Ross area.  They certainly knew eachother and ride together frequently – by the way they were chatting.  He led most of the way and she rode his wheel.   How’s that for starters?

Her response:
From: <<PAL>>
Date: February 5, 2013, 5:46:23 PM PST
To: <<WHEEL DESTROYER>>
OK so the guy must have been <<PROTECTED>> and the girl <<WITCHY WITCH>> who I think you know from the ferry.  If fact, as I read your email again I'm almost sure it was <<WITCHY WITCH>> on his wheel. I'm surprised you saw them as she usually goes in much later than you do. 


On Tue, Feb 5, 2013 at 6:28 PM, <<WHEEL DESTROYER>> wrote:

Ding, ding, ding.  I did some Facebook stalking and you nailed <<PROTECTED>> and <<WITCHY WITCH>>.  I knew I could count on you.  I don't think that I have met either of them before, though.  I can tell you, and I'm sure that it was a case of 'someone-woke-up-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-bed', but your pal <<WITCHY WITCH>> was a complete jerk to me this morning on the commute (you are right, by the way, I left way late today, and that it how we crossed paths).  As I mentioned, they passed me on Shady lane.  And we did a little bunny hopping back and forth up to Camino Alto.  Not surprisingly, they schooled me up the hill, but I caught up to them on the bike path in Mill Valley.  Rather than keeping up the passing back and forth, I just settled in on <<WITCHY WITCH>>'s  wheel and enjoyed the pull.  I gave her a 'rider back' and coughed and spit a few times so she would know that I was on her wheel.  I was certain that she knew I was there as she nodded her head a few times, but she made it clear, later, that I was mistaken. When we slowed at a stop sign, she made a point to scream at me with some less than nice stuff.  I had my headphones on so I didn't get the exact message.  Rather than incite her further, I tried to just ride past the two of them.  But she pulled out in front of me, blocking my path, and proceeded to yell a bit more and complain to her riding partner, <<PROTECTED>>.  Trying further to not instigate, I just looked at the guy and apologized again for interrupting their ride.  I apologized the same to her, but she was having none of it.  So I just kept riding on as she yelled at me.  They passed me one last time on Bridgeway and I just decided to ignore them.  I rode more slowly and went on with my day.

If you happen to see her in the near future, you may want to mention to her that she came down on the wrong guy for absolutely the wrong reason (riding her wheel).  Life is too short for me to cause a scene, but she did her damnedest in trying to push my buttons.  You might further relay to her that the biking community in Marin is pretty small.  When she is wearing <<FANCY>> kit and/or a <<CLUB>> kit, she should think twice before acting the fool and potentially embarrassing her 'sponsors'.  Just food for thought.  Long story short, no harm done.  She is lucky that it was me and not one of my less patient buddies.  

On Tue, Feb 5, 2013 at 7:27 PM, WHEEL DESTROYER wrote:

In rereading my email, I don't want you to misconstrue one phrase.  When I said, "... she messed with the wrong guy ..." what I meant was "... she messed with one of the good guys ...".  I'm not trying to make a threat or a big deal.  But she really made an arse of herself today for no reason.   Ok, enough negativity. Thanks for letting me vent. 

From: <<PAL>>
Date: February 5, 2013, 8:01 PM PST

To: <<WHEEL DESTROYER>>

I see you received your <<WITCHY WITCH>> initiation attack!  You are one of many, my friend.  I have known her for many years, and she has always been this way.  It's sad because she obviously has some "things" to deal with, but I find that I have to keep my distance as far as friendship is concerned because you never know when she will go completely ballistic.  Plus I don't want to deal with all the bullshit.  You should tell this story to <<OTHER PAL>>, she will get a kick out of it.  Not that she would be laughing at you, but because that type of incident is so common with <<WITCHY WITCH>>.

Miss <<WITCHY WITCH>>, careful who you f&*k with ...  You are now about to feel the wrath of the full <<WHEEL DESTROYER>> mafia.

2012 Recap and 9,000 mile update

I logged my first miles on Strava in August of 2011.  That month I ripped two mountain bike rides for a cumulative total of 14 miles.  A lot has passed in the last 18 months.

My 2012 final stats are as follows:
7,141.4 total miles
5,558.9 commuting miles
209 GGB crossings
2 organized centuries (one with the NearNakedMan suit)

Today, February 4, 2013, I crossed the 9,000 mile mark on Strava.  Five figures, here I come.  Time to break some more frames.

Fishy update

From my buddy, Kim - a marine biologist, phenominal outdoorsman, Marin Native and general good guy:

"Dude, this happens every year, from about Nov to Jan...the fish are Herring, who lay their eggs on the Sausalito waterfront rip rap rocks (and other locations in the bay), which in turn attracts amazing amount of wildlife (birds, fish, rodents) and the seasonal commercial and private Herring fisherman...it's quite a sight to see...it's also a good time to fish for Sturgeon, as these pre historic fish come close to shore to suck the eggs off the rocks."
 

Something fishy going on

Having stopped for a quick picture of the sunrise and some geese in Mill Valley this morning, I was wholly unprepared to stop for additional footage.  But the excitement in Sausalito was something that I have never seen in my life.  As I stopped, annoyed by the stop light on Bridgeway by the Starbucks, there was obviously some commotion ahead with lots of birds and what sounded a bit like gunshots (maybe the gunshots was the Metallica – One playing in my head phones, anyways).  Rounding the corner, I was introduced to thousands of pelicans in the water, just jamming themselves full of some sort of fish.  Further investigation revealed a few dozen fishing boats and more than a few fishermen on the shore tossing nets.

 I pulled my bike to the side and grabbed my phone to snap some footage.  I wish I would have gotten this conversation on tape.  Imagine the gnarliest Irish fisherman you have ever seen and a Philippine, toothless fisherman tossing the net from the shoreline.  The Phillipine was literally throwing an empty net into the Bay, counting to ten, and then pulling a net full of hundreds of little fish onto shore.  His partner in crime would take the orange bucket to the truck, and repeat.  My guess is that they would have a truck full of fish within a half hour.  Not to mention the millions of fish that were getting pulled out by the commercial boats and the pelicans.

In my best Fat Bastard Accent, “Jesus fu&*ing Christ, man.  What the f&*k is going on here?  I have been fishing the Bay for going on thirty years, Man.  And I have never seen anything like this in my entire life! What the f&*k are those things?”

In my best broken Asian English the Philippine raises up three finger s and says, “Three days”

FB:  “Three days?  What the hell are they?  Smelt?  Anchovies?”

AE:  “Three days.”

FB:  “Holy sh!t, Man.  Wait until I show these pictures to my kids.  What the f&*k?!?”

And that was it .. the Phillipine dude just went back to hauling fish from the Bay.  Surreal on so many levels.

Alpine God-Damn-It

I wasn't in the mood for Bovine, nor really pushing that hard this morning.  We have a 4-year-old birthday party to attend at 10am, so I was looking for a quick (short, not fast) spin to loosen up the legs.  I debated whether to leave a little early or a little late from the normal 7am Sunday departure as to avoid the FOG Dwellers, but opted for camaraderie over efficiency.  Luckily, the FOG group was thin this morning, only Murray and Scotty B, and I was able to convince them into the Alpine climb to Ridgecrest and back.

About 100 feet into the Bolinas/Fairfax climb, I let the boys know that the pace needed to slow and we could ease into the 35 degree weather.  No complaints were issued and we spun up to the golf course.  We were treated with two big, black-bushy-tailed coyotes and more than a few deer, one with an enormous rack (I love big racks).  Scotty B gets the award for the eagle-eye, spotting a coyote from 100 yards away at the top of the hill.

The climb to Azalea Hill was pleasant, with lots of chatter and the elevation warmed us up nicely.  As we rolled over the summit, I proclaimed, "Take it easy on the downhill.  We are on the wrong side of the hill and may see some ice."  No sooner did I finish my sentence when we hit one of the 180 degree S-turns and my rear wheel slid out from under me.  Thankfully, decades of being a clutz has trained me to fall like a champion.  I stuck out my fat rump, broke the fall, and then slid - still clipped in - chest first.  My hip took the brunt and the Breezer came out unscathed. I lucked out to slide on the non-derailleur side, too.  I'll have a sweet bruise on my left hip, but I popped right up and pedaled the hematoma into a proper strawberry.

The water at the Dam was flat as a mirror.  And it was strange to hear the water running so strongly through the falls. We skipped Ridgecrest due to time limitations and fear of further ice.  And I was homeby 8.40am with 2,000 feet of elevation under my belt.  Good day.

P-A-I-S-L-E-Y

I'll spare you the sappy details but, sadly, this morning we had to put down one of our best friends, Paisley, our Cavalier King Charles.  Paisley was stricken with cancer and died a few days short of her ninth birthday.   Although it was absolutely the humane thing to do, it was also one of the hardest things that I have ever done in my whole life. Having just left the vet, I dedicated my ride to work to my fallen comrade.  Although Paisley went before she began to suffer, I decided that a sufferfest of my own was the perfect way to memorialize the day.

Before hitting the Bridge, I climbed the Headlands for some elevation.  But not just any normal Headlands Loop.  I opted for seven repeats of the Upper Conzumel climb - one repeat for each letter of Paisley's name.  I settled into my pain mantra and repeated the letters of her name on each lap.  P-P-P-P-P with every rotation of the cranks.  Second lap A-A-A-A-A.  I did the math in my head and settled into the groove.  I-I-I-I-I.  It was about 6 minutes to the top and then a two minute descent - eight minute round trip.  S-S-S-S-S. I told myself that I would be be done in an hour, so just buckle up and keep pedaling.  L-L-L-L-L.  The parking lot at the top made for a pretty nice, one minute reprieve.  E-E-E-E-E. And the descent finished with y awful squeaky cantilever breaks on the moto. Y-Y-Y-Y-Y.

Phew.  Done.  An extra 2,500 feet of climbing to start the day.  Before the last descent and trip into the City, I stopped to snap a few pictures.  Appropriately, I spotted a raven at my feet chomping on some left over tourist food.

Rest in peace, Paizers.