It was a LONG ride... no, really, that's why it's taking me so long to tell you about it. Life hasn't been full and busy and the internet connections lame. It was the length of the ride.
Day 5, or Red Dress Day, is the shortest day on the ride. I woke up groggy, after the whole sleep apnea-neighbor thing. Wake up involves the resistance of opening your eyes and sitting upright. And then putting on the bike clothes and then your sweats back over those--helping you adjust to the reality that you will be getting back in the saddle again. Then it was over to the med tent and had my road rash re-bandaged to protect it, and took my puffy-faced self to breakfast. As I was getting coffee and water for mate--caffeine please--a BIG woman asked "where's your red dress? I bet you look goooood in a red dress." No caffeine: no response. But no red dress for me, just a red jersey. And the sweet excitement at a shorter day--49 miles.
Seeing all the Red Dresses was a hilarious way to start off. Some of the faster, early-to-get-out crowd hung around later than usual, not wanting to get into camp before the gear trucks.
Donald's lovely coordination and big white hat was my favorite!
Hills did await us ahead! My gears were a bit funky and the looming climbs pushed me to bike maintenance at Rest Stop 1. I dropped my bike off with the mechanic and he took care of it while I went to the potty line. It was ready when I was and he said the derailer had been bent--did anyone kick it? Who would kick Priscilla? Or did you fall? Maybe... All fixed and ready to climb on.
The hill was a great place to see the red ribbon of red-dressed riders.
Jennifer, who we knew from training rides, rode out with us that morning, but quickly disappeared. At Lunch, we ran into her and she said "how do you guys stay together?" We all looked at each other and laughed at the simplicity of it--because we choose to, because that makes the ride so much more enjoyable and meaningful for us, because we are looking out for one another. And riding "alone" is kinda boring.
This is the day... the day when it happened. You fear all week that something like this could happen, but never really think it will, but then it happened to me. It's gross, but it's true. I dropped my leg warmer IN. THE. PORTA. POTTY. Ewwww. Ew. Ew. Just on top, but EWWWW, so gross.
Then it was on from lunch and another 12 miles to camp in Lompoc. We were hoping for massages--20 minute massages sounded like heaven. We arrived, parked, and headed straight to the massage tent where the lines were about and hour and half long. No thank you! We'll use the bolsters and stretch. We chose not to take the shuttles into town, again--the logistics, and instead to wash our clothes--did I mention the porta-potty incident??? and get a little organized. It was the talent show that night--hilarious, esp. with our punchy background conversations.
Then it was off to bed. Sweet dreams, until the neighbor's alarm goes off and he sleeps through it while we're all awake.
Two days to go..
