The dot on my hand isn't a birthmark -- it's part of my cycling glove tanline. Yuck.		NMSS Top Hat Classic April 28, 2001 I took a break from regular AIDSRide group training to join another charity event today. The "Top Hat Classic" is an East Bay based fun ride organized to raise money for the Northern California chapter of the National Multiple Sclerosis (MS) Society. The Top Hat was, in fact, my first charity bike ride experience. Two years ago, I took to the course around San Ramon and Danville with some 2,000 other cyclists with my then brand new Specialized mountain bike (long gone now due to upgrade fever). I finished a 25-mile route with some energy to spare, despite a decent climb back to the finish line. Having taken up biking only 2 months before that event, I felt rather cool for having finished the ride. This year, I rode the longest of the Top Hat Classic routes on my road bike: I logged 79 miles in all today through the hills of the East Bay. Having already ridden some 200 miles this week BEFORE the event, I really had planned on riding the 50-mile route to give my muscles a break. Something happened when I reached split-off point of the 50 and 75 mile routes though. I said heck with it and made the turn for the long ride with the "big guys" who were in front of me. This ride was quite a change from the regular AIDSRide group training rides to which I've grown accustomed. For one, the Top Hat is an actual event. That means full support and gear ("SAG") vehicle support, scores of support and technical personnel at each rest stop and LOTS more cyclists on the road. There were some really good, fast riders out there who took no prisoners and made me feel like a beginner all over again. There were just as many not-so-good riders out there who knew close to nothing about road etiquette (let alone traffic regulations) who made me feel like the King of the Mountains. Despite the annoyances of inconsiderate, dangerous and risky riders in the first few miles of the course, one thing I always enjoy about these MS rides is how well the course is marked for directions -- as if seeing lots of other cyclists at any point of the course showing you were to turn next isn't enough. I never once had to pull out the map from my jersey back pocket to review directions. The course started in Pleasanton, made its way through Castro Valley and up the hills of Oakland and Moraga (my regular stomping ground), then through Orinda, all the way up to Martinez. Actually, not having really planned to do the 75 mile course, I didn't know what was ahead of me by the time we reached Moraga, where the 50-milers took a turn for the route back to Pleasanton. I was quite surprised (okay... a little proud) when I caught sight of the "Martinez City Limit" sign on the road. The return route took as through Pleasant Hill and Lafayette, where I tackled some of the meanest hills I've ever seen, then down through Alamo, Danville, San Ramon, back into Pleasanton. All told, I spent about six hours in the saddle today. The climbs... oh the climbs were a many, especially in the first 50 miles of the course. The course map indicates over 6,100 vertical feet of climbing -- certainly the most per total miles that I've ever done. The first series of climbs was one that I've grown quite familiar with as these are part of my regular romp through the Oakland hills and Moraga. This ride introduced me to what cyclists call the "Three Bears", which are a trio of peaks and valleys in the Briones Regional Park area. While the Bears didn't seem to be the epic climbs a lot of cyclists make them out to be, they certainly drained me enough to make the following series of short, but steep hills in Martinez and Lafayette just downright killers. One particularly miserable one was referred to as "Pig Farm Hill" by a lot of cyclists. I caught sight of this hill -- and all the riders who were bonking on it mid-climb -- at a time when I was beginning to wonder where the next rest stop was. I stopped, munched a bit on a Clif bar, drank some water and attacked. Less than halfway up this bloody hill, I was already in my smallest gear... out of the saddle, mashing on the pedals with all my weight, creeping up with one leg stroke per second. Not exactly Tour de France form here, but I made it up that bloody hill without dismounting, dammit. The camaraderie at this event was much different from the moral support system of AIDSRide training rides. I rode without the company of friends today, but made a few nice acquaintances on the road today in a silent, mutually understanding kind of way. I hardly exchanged any words with anybody on the road today, but realize that I did engage in plenty of community exchange -- cycling style. Some times I broke the wind and led a line of riders -- all of whom I didn't know or even exchange names with. Other times, I'd hop at the end of one paceline... then break away and join the next, and the next... No permission or admission fee required to spin with each group. Every group had their own character... and idiosyncrasies. Each time, a simple nod and smile sufficed to tell the group "thanks for having me along for the ride". The perfect paceline came at around mile 50, when I latched on to a foursome of triathletes. These guys were setting a wicked pace, but managed speed so well that I never lost the wheel ahead of me. We five were terrorizing the silky asphalt streets of Danville and San Ramon. Soon enough, there were three more riders behind me and one more ahead of me -- each of us no more than six inches behind the next wheel in a perfect line cruising at around 27 miles per hour for the last 45 minutes of the ride. It was cycling beauty and bliss -- even cooler to think what others might have seen when a perfect line of nine bikes whizzed past their left. When we rolled back into the parking lot we started from, the cheers and smiles amongst boys and girls who never met before told the story. We loved that miracle paceline, tipped our helmets off to each other, then went our individual ways.
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