I had resigned myself to missing the 2nd Annual 69 Mile Ride. Last year Max Schaaf from 4Q Conditioning put together an impromptu event that was destined for the history books. This year there was no other mention of the ride except for a very obscure poster that invited one and all to attend 'the 69 mile.'
On a whim I loaded my bike into my van, brewed up some coffee and hit the road to Oakland, California, at 10 p.m. Sleep when you're dead, that's my advice to you, because you'll get precious little yard camping shuteye between 4 and 8 in the morning, when Max's black-and-white pitbull starts his snorting and licking.
When the sun rose I was still wired from the coffee and a little cold from the dew, but I'd made it, and after something to eat, the morning fog burnt off, and the warm fall sun shining down, it was turning into one hell of a nice day.
Max was a little late to his own party, so everyone was already lined up when he rolled in. It was an amazing sight. I don't really know how many bikes were there. The place was littered with Knuckleheads, Panheads, Shovelheads, Sportsters, Evos, and even a few Triumphs, CBs, RZs and BMWs. There was even a 1930 Ariel there for good measure. I heard one dude bought a bike the day before, just so he could go on the ride.
Everyone was so happy, the sun was so warm, and the bikes were so bitchin' that God himself insured that every single bike fired up on the first kick. It was a truly marvelous sight and I wish that you could have been there to see it.
The ride to Port Costa is super fun, though not without peril. There are sections so bumpy that to traverse along them with sufficient speed on a chopper is to feel like you are atop a horse in the Kentucky Derby. Fillings and bolts alike were rattled loose as rigid frames bucked riders into the air only to be bounced up again by the following heave in the asphalt. Luckily most stretches were both smooth and pretty as we wound our way through the gentle farmland hills.
The bar in Port Costa, our half way point, was pretty neat. Inside there was a stuffed polar bear, free popcorn, cheap beer and plenty of pool tables.
On the ride back to Oakland our divine protection ran out. A tire went flat, a cat went flat and a motorcycle was laid flat after high siding around a corner. Thankfully, everyone made it back in one piece, the cat not withstanding.
I felt pretty good about giving up a night's sleep for a day like this and plan on doing it again next year... if Max's dog will have me.