ONE MORE FOR THE BOOKS

Wow, I’m not sure what is the bigger surprise – that the ToP is over after a year of work, or that it ended a week ago and I still haven’t posted the final blog. I guess the latter is really no surprise, between my natural tendencies towards procrastination, and proven science, which states that time speeds up expediently as the vacation days conclude. With my impending return to work just a couple days away, the clock – and calendar – are spinning faster than the gas meter on pizza day.

That said, it’s a wrap for ToP III – the central theme has been spectacular and furious. Carter outdid himself – and everyone’s legs with the route. The general feel of the group could not have been better; everyone jelled together, pushed and supported one another, and had a great time.

The final stage, Santa Rosa back to San Francisco, polished off the week with a fast run into the town of Fairfield and up and over an unbelievable climb through the trees of Mt Tam – but what a doozy. The climb was broken into two stages, with the first sweeping up and over the Alpine Dam, ending at Alpine Lake. Picture the perfect lake surrounded by a thick forest, which formed a canopy over the road. Were it not for the fact everyone was trying not to throw-up for the effort . . .

Finally the route dropped us down into Mill Valley and a much earned regroup and lunch on the warm red bricks of the town center.

The re-group in Mill Valley was the perfect cap. For those that have not visited this post card worthy community, it sits at the base of Mount Tamalpais in Marin County. Central to the town is a large town square surrounded by coffee shops, small one-off retail spaces and a terrific Market/Deli. It was the latter that had our attentions – like moths to a naked light bulb we made a beeline to the deli counter. For me, it was the most perfect rare roast beef with horseradish mayo on a French roll. Coupled with the Caprese’ salad and a lemonade, I was sure I’d found heaven. That is until the food was gone, the wind had increased, and the realization that damp lycra does little for raising the core temperature of my now significantly scrawnier body. Try to picture the scene of twenty guys all trying to dig in to the red brick surface in a search for warmth.

Finally, once everyone had arrived, it was time to roll back across the bridge to the shouts and cheers of the fans. Ok, it was really more like shouts of, “Hey, watch it A@$ *^#e), you almost hit me”, and “look, Edith, it’s bicyclists, isn’t that cute”. I’m sure this is what Lance experiences as he nears the end of a stage as well.

We ended the trip with the traditional wrap-up dinner. This year, Ristorante Capannina’s on Union St hosted us – closing off their dining room for the party, and providing some of the best Italian dining I have experienced. We probably emptied out their wine cellar, but may be invited back again.

The final jerseys were presented to rousing cheers, and a couple of “I was cheated” sighs.

Yellow Jersey went to Greg Moore, who dominated the week in the same manner as Tom Armbruster did last year – neither are invited again.

The Red Jersey, for the most consistent climber was an easy choice in Scott Duncan – last word is that Jack La Lane is in contact as his replacement (the juicer is in the mail).

The Green Jersey was Andrew’s from day one, and seemed to fit like a glove.

Three more black Jerseys were presented: Maury, for his silent suffering while completing the trip on a Time Trial bike. This is a bike that is made for only one purpose – to go really fast on a flat course with few turns. Unfortunately, this year’s route was the complete opposite and gave him a whole new appreciation for chamois cream. The second went to Rich for his two days of near solo suffering. The second of these days, which was the longest of the week, and was on the verge of being re-routed, he was the sole voice of “un-reason” when he argued that it should stay because “I’ve never ridden a hundred miles, and want to see what it’s like”. Finally, the third went to John, one of the original ToP participants, and the designer of our jerseys. Both of these are fine reasons for a jersey award, but pale in comparison to the fact that he has also had to put up with rooming with Steve Burke for all of those years – now if you know Burke, you know that deserves an award.

The final award of the year, and new for this year, was the presentation of the ToP perpetual plaque. It has each of the past year’s rides – and the team that won. This year, that honor goes to the NorCal Assassins.

Well done one and all, while Carter worked throughout the year to put all this together, it is the group that makes the week. Can’t wait until next year – anyone for Tahoe?

Thanks also to all those that have frittered away their time reading the blog, it is just one of the aspects of the ToP that wakes it what it is.