rivers of wine
Well, okay, rivers and wine.
On November 5th, I went to Cooper Mountain Vineyards to help set up for the Tualatin Riverkeepers’ Fall Fest party the next day. The Riverkeepers are a fantastic bunch. They operate quite successfully on the premise that the most effective advertisement for preserving the river is to get down on it yourself and paddle around.
So, for some dumb reason, I got it into my head that I’d ride my bike there that day, even though it was chilly and pouring rain. It wasn’t too long of a ride, though there was a part straight up Grabhorn Road near the end. (Incidentally, have you ever grabbed onto a road sign and cussed out the street like it insulted your mother?) It would be a good test of my raingear, too. A little too good of a test, it turns out. My booties were soaked by the time I got there. No matter. I chained the bike up under a tent and got to work.
Man, the Riverkeepers make everything fun. Setup day was a time of gleeful hauling of boxes, setting up partitions, climbing stupendously cool ladders, rigging lights, and trying not to do any electrical work while standing in puddles. And did I mention that we were all at a vineyard, with a tasting room a scant fifty meters away?
I put my semi-wet things back on and trundled out onto the road. The near-vertical part of Grabhorn is quite fun when you’re going downhill. Until you blow a tire, that is. I’m not talking about some little patch scratch I can fix with chewing gum and spit until I limp the bike home. I’m talking about the valve stem tearing loose from the tube and flying into the air, with the ever-so-hip eyeball stem cover still attached (I’ll spare you the suspense: yes, I recovered it!). I’m talking about slewing back and forth in the lane in the rain and traffic as I fight for control on a steep downhill.
Luckily, I had my own personal sag wagon, so I didn’t have to hoof it back home towing a limping bike.