I'm glad I'm not sailing on the Monterey Bay right now!

I wouldn't define myself as a tree hugging environmentalists, but the sights of trash on the beach and redwood trees on the back of logging trucks does sadden my heart. The GF said she wanted to go to a secluded beach up north on Christmas day. We drove up Hwy 1 to Little Laguna, a place I used to surf when I was much younger. In fact, I hadn't set foot on this beach in 20+ years. It still looked remarkable the same, but I was staggered by the amount of trash we saw. There was plastic bits of every type scattered about the high tide mark. It then dawned on me that this refuse had washed up onto the beach from the sea. The trash picture above took us 10 minutes to collect and was a very tiny portion of what was there, but this is all that we could carry. No matter where you are, take a little time out and pick a bit of trash up! Eventually everything ends up in the ocean sooner or later.

Preface:
Yet another race over the hill, which means getting up at the ungodly hour
of 4:30. This particular morning was more difficult than the others as my
girlfriend's company Christmas party was the night before. I ended up
playing bartender for four hours, but in the process I managed not to pour
myself it oblivion and only consumed two glasses of wine. Just when I
thought we were about to make our escape I heard the rallying cry "let's go
to Brady's Yacht Club," which is the neighborhood dive bar. Bugger! To make
a long story short, I managed not to over indulge but we didn't get home
until 01:00. When the alarm went off I was convinced it was a terrible
mistake!
Field General and Dictator for life David Gill arrived on time and we were
off to Coyote Pt, San Mateo for the 5th and final round of the Pilarcitos
BASP that also doubled as Nor. Cal. district championships. Upon arrival we
disemboweled the van and set up camp next to the water front.

The Course:
It had been a couple of years since I have raced here and I had forgotten
how hard this course is. From the beach section, to the grass filled with S
turns, to the uphill section under the eucalyptus, this course just sucks
the life out of you! I can't possibly imagine what it would be like if it
rained!
The Race (Singlespeed):
This race was absolutely brutal. If it hadn't have been for the sight of
Brent Chapman dangling in front of me, I think I would have quit. Needless
to say this was not one of my best races, but I did finish. Afterwards my
body felt like I had been run over by a cement truck.

The Epilogue:
All in all, this was a great event and venue, but two days later I still
feel like I was hit by a cement truck!

After a very exhilarating and yet in the same breath terrifying experience on the track at Hellyer Park, I purchased a cheap track bike. This has nothing to do with the fix gear rage going on right now. It was an impulse buy. I could never see myself charging around town on a fix gear. Although I admire my friends that do, the recent trend of kids riding around on fix gear bikes with their pant legs rolled up, cycling cap ever so slightly askew on their head and handle bars only 16” wide has completely cracked me up! My track bike now resides at work at we go on lunch rides together. I have a nice little route that evolves very light and or no traffic. I really enjoy riding this bike, but I have one really bad habit that has been ingrained into my head since I started riding road bikes 34 years ago: coasting! Coasting, that blessed act of release your momentum that requires virtually no energy at all. I learned on the track that coasting on a track bike can be a near fatal experience! The unconscious act of coasting after finishing a sprint left me riding a nose wheel at 30mph twice and although I managed not to crash, I did leave stains in my shorts! My lunch rides have been eventful free until yesterday when I tried to coast over a set of train tracks. How I managed not to auger mystifies me. It was all blind luck. I must get rid of this unconscious urge to coast!