When I first started to ride with a group of competent cyclist in SF people would tell me of a ride that went off every Tuesday at the Port of Oakland. This ride was spoken of as almost a mythic legend. Even to the point that people would look around, realize my unfamiliar face and immediately stop talking about it as if it were the first rule of Fight Club. Basically, the Port ride is crit training in the middle of the week where a pretty large group of cyclists meet up in the Port, at night and ride on essentially closed roads. During the summer and racing season there is talk of 100 guys showing up at times, including pros, and it is fast!
A few weeks ago I decided I was finally fit enough to show my face and give it a go. But, being savy in the ways of cycling I knew that if I showed up by myself as a guy, I’d be ignored and probably have to fit for spots in the group all night, because, well, that’s how cycling rolls. Instead, I very wisely invited my friend Jennifer, who is a Cat 1, to come with me. My guess was that all the guys would swoon to her because fast girls on bikes are hard to find, especially cute ones, and while being hit on she’d say, “and that’s my friend Landall,” and I’d receive a hall pass by association alone. Let’s jus say my plan worked perfectly. Guys acknowledged that I existed. I didn’t have to wrestle myself into the pace line and after sitting in the group (which averaged 27mph over an hour and a half) was given nods of acceptance.
Fast forward to last night when I showed back up for the ride, this time, due to bicycle complications, sans Jennifer, and it was as if these guys didn’t have a clue who I was. At the meet up spot I was ignored. On the ride to the port I was ignored. And once the pace started to wind up a nice lady introduced herself to me at about 25mph. Conversation was, let’s say, limited. But, despite the cheerful nature of the group I was silently accepted about half way through as I saw a decisive gap splitting the pack in two (Predictably the split happened right after I very unwisely took a monster pull at the front and was drifting back.) and I bridged up solo to make it into the lead group of 10 or 12. This eventually got whittled down and we finished the ride with only about 8 guys sitting in the whole night without getting dropped. I always poke fun at cycling for not being very friendly to new comers and unfamiliar faces, but, in reality, I appreciate the proving yourself weed out process that cycling forces upon everyone there.
As we all soft pedaled one guy kept talking about huge his pulls were and that they were pretty much the reason the group split. I have no idea if this was true but I do know I was sitting on his wheel most of the night because he is tall and I could actually get a draft off of him and I wasn’t struggling to stay there. The guys on track bikes patted themselves on the backs for dropping all but three guys with gears. But, that’s just how cycling goes, none of that talk means anything. Then, as our heart rates dropped and we started to realize how freaking cold it was, we went and got burritos. Which was clearly the highlight of the night.
The Port ride is going to be staple of my training week as it’s really the best threshold workout I can possibly do, not to mention great crit riding practice. These last few weeks there’s probably been about 30-40 people that start the ride and admittedly the paces are slower this time of year, but hopefully when it ramps back to up mythic legend status I’ll still be able to find some good wheels and sit in. Cat 3 or bust right?
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