Generally when I blog, I re-activate my memories of each day by inspecting my photos and checking out the route map. Of course, today there is no route map per se, and unfortunately there are also no photos as dingbat here forgot to take his camera with him!
So, to distract from this monumental blunder – Look!, here's a picture of a grumpy kitty!
I do remember that an intrepid group of us awoke at an intrepid hour (7:30am), got into one of the vans (driven by the intrepid and insanely gorgeous Stevie) for an intrepid drive up the long downhill of the previous day, and then intrepidly went down it again. It was INTREPID!
The ride was pretty much a repeat of the day before except a little cooler, a lot shorter (I didn't do the not-the-actual-option option), and the tandem terrors Amy and Steve had an even bigger boulder attached to their bike. They are simply unstoppable downhill! This time I caught up with them even further down the road, and only because they had actually stopped! I suspect Steve was detaching and hiding the warp drive they secretly attach to their bike at various opportune moments!
Several other tour members were also along on the ride, but unfortunately because I didn't take any pictures I can't remember who – sorry about that guys. Oh well – Look!, here's a picture of cliche kitty!
After the downhill, Amy, Steve and myself decided to take a wander into the Sunriver downtown area. The previous day, I had spoken to Wilder, the-guide-who-shall-flirt and all round great guy, re: the best place to investigate getting a compact crank installed. Not only had he rung around, he'd also organised for me to speak with one of the guys at a local shop who had a compact 50-34 Shimano Ultegra ready to go. So, it was my task to seek and destroy! (well not the destroy bit).
We managed to locate the place after a little hunting (Sunriver has an unusual layout – in short it's freekin' confusing as all hell!) Boss man was out at a local cafe, so I was sent to hunt him down. Finding my prey I boldly faced him and inquired when he was coming back to the shop to deal with my urgent purchase: equally boldly he told 'me when he was good and ready'. Actually, it was far more civil: I politely inquired and he politely answered, suggesting he would see me at the shop in around 15 mins.
On my way back to the shop I was stopped by a gentleman who appeared to be an official of some kind from the golf tournament that Sunriver was holding over the few days we were there. What followed was one of those surreal conversations where one person (the official) is talking about something, and the other person (me) has no idea what the hell he is rabbiting on about! I think because I was in cycling garb, and looked like I knew what I was doing re: biking, he assumed that I was the policy maker for the Sunriver Council for all things bike? And so he started cranking on about how many cyclists there were about, how they were seemingly conducting their riding activities with no regard to theirs or others safety, and how this type of lawlessness required quick ameliorative action. He wasn't unpleasant, loud or strident, but obviously felt he needed to get his point across to a person of some standing. My role consisted of feigning concern and interest, and an occasional nod of the head.
I am convinced that at the end of the conversation, he left feeling he had more than adequately explained his concerns, had received a fair and unbiased hearing, and that very soon significant changes in biking law and behaviour throughout the Wild West that was downtown Sunriver would result! He is going to be a very disappointed man...
Soon, Boss was back at the shop dragging out the crank and installing it. Amy and Steve had nicely hung around, but as I was going to be 30 minutes or so, and Amy appeared to have seen a shop 'with stuff' that was interesting, I bade them farewell for a short while. Before the install was complete, Steve had re-appeared – I am guessing that 'stuff' wasn't Steve-type stuff!
The guys in the shop were a great bunch with the classic mountain-biker patois and fashion sense – excellent value. Pretty soon the Dean was up and running, and a quick little spin later confirmed all was good with the new crank in place. I was to appreciate it on some of the climbs ahead on my two tours!
Feeling peckish, the three of us headed off to a sandwich bar and acquired some tasty lunch. Amy and Steve generously paid for my lunch – I'm pretty sure that they are well ahead in the treating-the-Aussie stakes, so I'm gonna have to keep coming back on tours just to one day repay them!
Post lunch, we snailed our way back to our rooms. I say snailed, because Sunriver has the most infuriating bike paths in existence: bikes have to give way to cars, pedestrians, various wildlife including migrating geese, and golf officials! (actually, I suspect golf officials are fair game).
Back in my room, Robb is nowhere to be seen, so I have a shower and flip on the Olympics. Amazingly, they are showing VOLLEYBALL! Of for the love of whatever – what is going on? Have all other Olympics sports been eradicated in the hope that China's volleyball teams suck? Well that has backfired, because I can plainly see China winning this particular match I am watching! Fleetingly, some action from the cycling velodrome is broadcast, but it is quickly cut off. Somewhere in a dank, dark basement of a US broadcaster, a recalcitrant TV desk operator minion is dragged off screaming, his re-education re: the wholesome goodness of volleyball about to commence.
Then, up on the tele – Look!, here's a picture of a praying kitty!
Robb rolls in mid arvo after having walked a billion miles around Sunriver then baked himself at the pool, cleans up, and we sit around chatting before the wine and cheese gig held by the guides in their room is scheduled.
The power of imminent wine and cheese, and growling stomachs, fires up Robb and I, and we storm over to the guide's room intent on hastening their preparations. Others are also storming, and the guides, fearing a riot the likes of which not seen since Tiananmen Square, open the doors and let us invade. It's like Genghis Kahn but without the horses!
After some drinks and nibbles, Robb and I decide to hit town and search out a famed Italian restaurant. Robb is keen to get a little peace and quiet, and I sneakily agree, but I have an ulterior motive: back at the guide's room, the remaining 'guests' are to be subject to a night of torture involving tubes that mimic musical instruments (which function by slamming them on other's heads), and the presence of a cute little boy. The guide's evil knows no bounds...
Robb and I locate the joint, 'Marcello's Italian Cuisine', and as we breeze in, the apparent owner sees Robb go by and calls out his name! Robb seems non-plussed, and I am hopeful that Robb has influence and the night is free, but all that happens is that Robb eventually recalls that he'd chatted to this dood at the Sunriver Lodge where said dood also works, and had been given the address as a place to eat.
Well, influence or not, the food is great, the wine is lovely, and the Romanian waitresses are plentiful! Well, there are a couple of them, and I wonder if the Euro-wait-person slave trade is alive and well in Sunriver?
Robb and I talk on – we get along very well, and he is a super-interesting person, intelligent, funny, and somewhat off-the-wall. He is also very friendly, and I am constantly amazed at how he can just talk to anyone and everyone. Great guy!
He and I wander off into the jumble of the Sunriver pedestrian walks, and eventually get back to the room. Soon thereafter it's crash time, and I drift into sleep, dreaming about being hunted, and – Look!, here's a picture of a stalking kitty!
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