Ride Report: San Anselmo to San Francisco

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The thick mist that surrounds us parts for but a moment and below there is a flash of the grey sea, churning itself awake and casting about, blinking its increasingly baltic eyes in the incriminating glimmer of what little sunlight pierces the fog. The wind is so strong that rounding the posts is like turning the oaken cogs of some ancient machine, slow and ungainly.

Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge in July or crossing the Øresund in September? You decide. (although I think it should be quite obvious…).

My teammate Sabrina and I rode from San Anselmo to San Francisco and back, traveling through a couple micro-climates along the way. We didn’t have any arm warmers, any jackets…we had only our inherent bad-assedness and thick blood to keep us warm. We aren’t sure how many miles. We don’t really care. Oh the glories of off-season road biking. And now I can say I have biked over the Bridge. Not that I saw any of the view.

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