Wednesday, August 5: The Lost Wednesday

(Hoston Caryn, Travellin' Tom, Harry)

R & D Day. "Recovery and Discovery Day". Our ride was only 13 miles, after which we'd be picked up by a shuttle and taken to our night's stay at Healdsburg.

I'm beginning to see patterns. The day always starts cool, foggy, and overcast. By 10 AM or so, it's sunny and the breeze picks up. But we're still experiencing mid-70's highs every day. I'm afraid of getting used to this.

Houston Caryn is suffering a bit through the trip. First her shoulder is killing her. She sometimes stops pedalling and rides with her arm straight up in the air, her fist at the heavens. Internally, she says, "Owww! Owww!" But she looks like she's thinking, "Bring on the hills! Bring on the headwinds! I will kick your asses!" She looks like Mel Gibson in Braveheart. It's a little discomforting, and yet a little inspirational.

We stop in at Figone's Olive Oil in the little village of Glen Allen. After chugging wine the last few days, it's kind of cool sipping little tasting cups of olive oil. It is very fragrant, very flavorful. And it's all Extra Virgin. The manager tells us Extra Virgin means a certain level of acidity and the taste of disinterested standards bodies ... not just that it's the first pressing of the olives. They actually do press the olive once and use the rest as fertilizer. It's decadent, yet frugal.

The gardens around Figone's are exquisite. It's another pattern among wineries here on the Sonoma side. They are shady and varied and very colorful. The background of brown patchy desert grass just makes them more spectacular.

Raleigh Andrea and Sherry and I are becoming a pattern too. They are clearly the athletes of the pack, and they go at a pace that's comfortable for me. They climb the hills with ease. Raleigh Andrea is more focused on getting from point A to point B, and she memorizes the cue sheet before heading out. I let her out in front, and never look at my own cue sheet. Raleigh Andrea is a photographer, and the phys ed instructor, but she's more leisurely. She knows she could blow us both over, but chooses to hang in the back looking for interesting things. They are two cool women, and if this were a bike club, they would be my consistent riding mates.

We arrive at Chateau Ste. Jean winery for a guided tasting. The steward breaks out a bottle of Zinfadel that blows us all away. It's the first tasting I've been at so far where the verdict is unanimous, and I think we all hit a new level in our relationship. A shared hate may bond, but a shared love is something more sublime, more timeless, and more mysterious. I look at my bike mates. It is here that we go from "people who will shake hands when we part" to "people who will hug when we part." We will look at each other's pictures and smile.

Amazing what a good bottle of wine can do, isn't it?

We eat lunch and then climb on into the vans to head to Healdsburg's Madrona Manor. The ride is about 20 miles of really crummy road, and not good biking terrain. This is one time being on a seasoned VBT tour is so cool. If this were just random people planning a loop, we'd have biked this leg and had a miserable time.

But now I get back to the hotel room and find this incredible balcony right outside of my room. And I spend the next 4 hours sleeping on the deck chair. My Official Recovery. I feel incredibly relaxed.

The van takes us to downtown Healdsburg. It's not a very big town, and no matter how our 20-person group splinters, the smaller groups seem to find each other within minutes and trade members. I end up at Willi's Raw Seafood Bar with Houston Harry and Caryn plus Boston Mark and Heidi.

It soon turns into the best meal ever. Willi's specializes in tapas, so we order plates and pass them around. I order a Cumcuber Martini, and it's so refreshing and fabulous, I order another. We partake of Rare Tuna with Coconut Milk, Hanger Steak Kabobs with Chimichura Sauce, Grilled Asparagus, Sauteed Spinach with Lemon Marmalade, Carmelized Salmon with Miso Vinaigrette, Roasted Shrimp and Chiles, Hamachi Seviche ... mmmmmm. Everything is heavenly, and we taste enough to be infatuated with each dish, but not enough to become complacent with anything. It is the perfect meal for people getting to know each other. (Although I keep lying about my Forensic Accounting career ... at least it's becoming more comfortable for me to lie about!)

My part of the bill comes to $45. I go through my wallet and pockets and find only $30, so throw in my credit card instead. Note this well. It'll become an important fact in just a few hours.

The rest of my compatriots decide to go back to the hotel, but I stay downtown. Healdburg doesn't have many bars, as I find when stroll around. I duck into one bar and see a bunch of wine bottles in back. I ask what they have besides wine. "Coffee and soda," was the answer. I excuse myself and leave. Wine country has become stale for me.

I end up in Bear Republic Brewery. Here there is wine and beer. The beers are microbrewed and on tap, and have their alcohol contents written next to them on a black board. Remember I have been drinking 80 proof Dewars all week. So the Racer X, listed at 20 proof (more than twice the alcohol of regular beer) looked pretty much up my alley. I ordered one.

Hoo, boy, was it good! It tastes like orange juice, very hoppy and yet no trace of bitterness. It was beautiful. I watch ESPN and order another. Then another.

And another. And this is where it starts getting blurry. I remember a few things, but there a few unsettling blanks. I remember asking for a cab. And I remember proposing to Janice the waitress I had met a minute ago. I remember her laughing like ... OK, dude, you are not serious! But I don't remember actually getting into the cab or finding my way to the room. I have no idea what time it was.

Racer X has pretty much undid any recovery in R & D day ... as I would find out soon enough.