Sunday, March 18, 2007

Cheese Factory Ride/ Tamarancho with The One-Headed Cerberus

This is another one of my favorite rides out of Fairfax. You head out Sir Francis Drake, start a ten minute climb two minutes into the ride, descend down toward Lagunitas, then bang a right and head over to Nicasio Valley. On this day I was riding into a 20 MPH headwind straight out of the west, normally I can make it to The Cheese Factory in less than an hour, it took me an hour and fifteen minutes, of course the rip home took well under an hour and I felt like perhaps the Brie I sampled at The Cheese Factory was spiked with amphetamines and EPO. That's really the best part of this samples at The Cheese Factory, you gotta do it. The usually have some sick Brie deal as well which leads to me riding home with jersey pockets stuffed with delicious cheeses which are well beyond room temperature by the time I get back.

When I got back from my morning Cheese Ride, I grabbed a coffee in Downtown Fairfax, as I ordered I observed a very large, agitated Mentally Challenged individual cutting a Newspaper to ribbons with safety scissors muttering unintelligibly all the while as an aged folk singer sang about impeaching the president, that's Fairfax for ya. After coffee and a snack I went back to the house, hopped on my friend Pete's Intense Dually, wrangled Maggie the dog out of the house and went back up to Tamarancho to see how the other fully suspended and geared other half live. I was all bluster for the first half of the ride, but after lugging that beast (not the dog, the bike) around for an hour I was a diminished man. I couldn't let Maggie see any signs of weakness or I was gonna be dog food for sure.

It took some Dog Whisperer tricks to get her to stop being a total crackhead, nipping at my feet, running donuts around me, by the time we reached ride's end we had come to an understanding. We actually picked up another dog as well, this one had the tendency to run in front of me then stop suddenly, after a couple collisions she wised up and took to staying behind me as Maggie ran point, acting as an unattainable rabbit to my lethargic Greyhound.
I rode myself into a dark place, hadn't been that tired on the bike in a long time, but it wasn't anything a couple bombers of Muylan's Double IPA and some pizza couldn't fix.

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