Day 11: Dog Day

87.8 mi 6:55.33 max 44.0 12.6 avg


Somewhere around mile 15 or so, I rounded a corner and there was a dog in the pullout, just on the southern end of the Avenue of the Giants. Of course, I had to stop. At first, the dog barked at me, but I could tell that it was curious as it approached me. When she realized that I posed no threat, she jumped on my bike and on me...I think she also smelled the turkey jerky in my pack. I pulled some out, and gave her a little bit to help win over her trust in me. She had on a collar, but no tags. I think she was mostly black Lab, with a little white star on her chest. She couldn’t have been much older than a year. She was SO friendly – she liked having her ears rubbed, like Madison, and when I worked on her left ear a bit (which I think was starting an infection), she leaned hard into me and groaned a little. I miss my puppy!!!!!!!!!! I wasn’t sure what to do with the dog at that point. I’d bonded with her and couldn’t just leave. She didn’t have the road smarts not to follow me or get herself hit (and 101 is busy with Important Californians with Places To Go). One of the riders suggested that I tie her up and hope one of the locals would notice her. That didn’t work for me on several counts – there was no indication that people would actually notice her or take care of her....she’d be without water....and I’d never know if she had been rescued. Fortunately, David pulled in just at that moment and said that he’d help with the dog. Shortly after, a police car also drove by, so I flagged him down and David handled it from there.

When I got to the rest stop, the story came up there and Alan spearheaded the conversation about the puppy’s fate: “As soon as Dave rounded the corner, the cop took the dog out and shot her,” he said. That’s not what happened...but I really dislike being teased about things like that. I hope she’s ok.

I spent some time thinking about how Madison would probably like a little sister or brother...and how maybe we need a BRPC Ride Mascot...

At breakfast, the riders were intensely fretful. It seemed like an inordinate number were complaining about minor things, especially about the amount of climbing and the distance. I get tired of hearing the same things over and over, and another rider made a comment to me, quietly, about how he was sick of all the complaining and I quickly groaned in agreement. I added brightly, “Well, now we’re complaining about all the people who are complaining.” He grinned.

Yeah, the day was tough. There were two impressive climbs – lots of switchbacks, both on the way up and on the way down. They weren’t overwhelming though. You just sweat through it and ride. Just ride. The weather was beautiful. My favorite part of the day (aside from the dog) was at the bottom of the 2nd descent. The road just started to rise and as the wind died down in my ears, the sound was replaced by the ocean waves as the Pacific opened up before me. It was a spectacular return to the water.

Near the end of the ride, my bike started making a funny clicking sound. I was able to figure out that it was coming from the bottom bracket, which I reported to Alan. He seemed mildly impressed that I was able to identify the sound (yay! I’m not a TOTAL bike moron anymore).

Almost all of us went to the Northwest Brewing Co. at the end of the day, and then we moved on to a dive bar on a semi-back street in Fort Bragg. I was tired and just not into the group thing.