A Sweep Surprise

Livermore, CA to San Jose, CA (47 miles)

I was disappointed to miss the sunrise, as the overcast persisted the entire night into day. The team is slowing down in the mornings in a tacit effort to savor our last few days together. I’m usually rushing rushing rushing to hit the road, but this morning I inspected my back tire for debris (it’s had a mysterious slow leak the past few days) and wrote a few more postcards and listened to music. Before I knew it, just about everyone was gone except for Rae and Kevin (who were sweep) and Marcus. I asked sweep if I could ride with them, and Kevin simply said they would be breaking some rules today.

“Oh, you’re doing a naked mile today?”

“No, this is much worse than a naked mile.”

I didn’t push it further, and rolled out with Marcus. We stopped two miles in because I needed stamps. I left the store and Marcus said he was going to wait for sweep so he could ride with them. I almost left him waiting for sweep and continued riding on my own, but I decided I’d stick around. We called sweep, and they were already off route, so we backtracked and met up with them in downtown Livermore.

Rae giggled and said, “Laini and Marcus, you’re joining us today, but we’re not telling you where we’re going or what we’re doing. Just follow us.”

Marcus and I smiled at each other and shrugged because it was 8am and we were already on an adventure. Kevin guided the way with his Garmin as we journeyed 10 miles off the cue sheet. Meanwhile, I’m racking my mind about what Marcus and I have gotten ourselves into. Rae gave us clues, but they only furthered my confusion:

“Today will cost $11, it’s time sensitive, we’re biking fewer miles than the day’s route but we’ll probably get to the host site in San Jose around 5 or 6pm. I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

Just as I had exhausted all the possibilities in Livermore, Kevin led us to a metro station, expanding our options and excitement. We get on the metro and Rae informs us that the ride is 45 minutes long, so we all fall asleep.

When we woke up and shuffled ourselves and our bikes out of the station, Rae welcomed us to San Francisco. Marcus and I looked up at the tall buildings peering over us, the pudgy pigeons waddling around our feet, and business people jay-walking to their next meeting. It was 11am on a Friday in August - while the rest of the world seemed to be working miserably, the four of us stood outside of that money-driven bubble and enjoyed the sights and smells of downtown San Francisco without a worry. From this point, Kevin informed us that we still had another five miles of biking. We were getting physically closer to our destination, but mentally I was more lost than before. It was also very cold, and someone brought up a Mark Twain quote, “My coldest winter was a summer in San Francisco.”

I’d seen photos of this city, but they don’t properly convey what it’s like to bike up such serious hills only to be abruptly stopped by a light or cut off by a car. It’s challenging, and I love city riding for that reason, but the addition of hills made biking in San Francisco particularly difficult. Serious credit to anyone who bikes regularly in downtown San Francisco, and I can only imagine how tough driving there is too. Marcus and Kevin are racers, and took the sprinting from light to light with greater ease than myself. I didn’t fret much, it’s not like sweep is trying to shred today’s ride.

We reach the bay and are greeted with the widest bike lane I’ve ever seen. Three lanes! Two for bikes and one for pedestrians. However, it’s also the most crowded setting I’ve ridden through all summer. With America’s Cup having just completed it’s semi-finals, and it being the height of summer, there were tourists everywhere. Everywhere. Kevin pointed out an island to me. “That’s Alcatraz,” he said while I turned my head to marvel at the prison’s eeriness and creepy interruption in the scenic family-friendly bay. Boom, I hit a pedestrian that was walking in the bike lane. I stopped, he wasn’t knocked over and said he was fine. I still felt guilty and knew I should have been more careful about staring at Alcatraz.

I caught up to Rae and pointed out, “Wow, look at that bridge!”

She smiled and answered, “That’s where we’re going. We’re here to bike across the Golden Gate Bridge.”

Marcus and I were giddy. Even though most of the team, including the four of us, were planning to go to San Francisco after reaching Santa Cruz, our bikes would be boxed up and shipped by then. This was our only chance to bike across the Golden Gate Bridge.

Honestly, I became impressed with myself for not hitting more pedestrians and tourists. The whole area was swarmed. On our way to the bridge, a couple girls shouted at us, “Bike & Build!” so we looped back and met up with them. The two had just completed the Southern U.S. route about a week before. They warned us that the bridge was packed, and to ride it with only one foot clipped into a pedal. The actual riding across the Golden Gate Bridge was pretty stressful, given that I’d already hit someone that day. People riding rental bikes weren’t following basic rules of the road, small children were practically shredding under my crankset, and large groups were blocking the entire pathway.

Still, the view was awesome, and we felt invincible. From the Golden Gate Bridge, I could see the bay, Alcatraz, skyscrapers, and even the Pacific Ocean - 24 hours ahead of schedule. After a few photos, our task in San Francisco was complete.  It was time to cross back over the Golden Gate and make our way towards the metro to San Jose.

Just as Marcus and I didn’t know what sweep was conspiring to do today, the rest of the team still had no clue this was happening. When Kevin talked to one leader on the phone, he simply reassured them that, “We’re just slugging today and enjoying downtown.” We knew we were risking punishment.

We climbed and descended through the city once more, but this time through some really ritzy neighborhoods. We ate subs and then boarded the CalTrain to San Jose. There was an empty train just for bicycles, a lesson the T should take from the CalTrain. We napped some more, and woke up to four middle-aged cyclists drinking beer next to us. We got to talking about touring experiences, and we turned away their offer of beer because we still had seven miles of biking left. Those seven miles were sweet, as the setting sun washed everything in gold on this beautiful day.

However, we had to keep our mouths shut about our shenanigans until the next day, when the trip was officially over and we were free from punishment. It was our worst fear to be vanned on the last riding day. When we got to the host site in San Jose at 6pm, four hours after the last group, everyone wanted to know what we had been up to. Marcus and I told people, “Today’s ride was just Golden.” But the secret didn’t last very long,  and the worst punishment we received was jealousy from some other riders. I told them I had no idea what I was getting myself into, as the only clues Rae gave were “I hope you brought $11 and that you’re not afraid of heights.”