Mont Fromage and Kurt

Yesterday was lots of big hills day.
Once again, we picked up the Cat2 Pos Ped ride in San Anselmo and met up with some of the riders in Fairfax. Since we hadn't ridden very far, our stop was short and then it was off to tackle White's Hill.

Though our stop was short, we did run into Kurt Schade. He runs his own series of rides on Saturdays, but on this ride, he was one of the pack. Not that Kurt could ever really be described as one of the pack. Along the route, Kurt sings, he tells jokes-- he is a one-man entertainment center.

So, as we left Fairfax, Kurt was right behind us. We hadn't spent much time with him lately, so it was a real treat to get to pedal and visit. Kurt had lots of great stories about some of his riders, and as a former DC area resident (he went to Georgetown) we traded east coast stories, and of course, got to talking about John Waters. Kurt did his best Bawlmer Miss Edith voice. We talked about Glee. We sang, we laughed. And before we knew it, we were up White's Hill.

Next came Lagunitas Hill and more of the same. It had never seemed so easy. Last, but hardly least before a break at the Cheese Factory, came, of course, Cheese Factory Hill, which goes by a variety of names, Alp de Fromage, or as I call it, Mont Fromage. It is a toughie, and it is long. But once again, with Kurt riding with us, it was as easy as its ever been.

Another factor making the day's ride so pleasurable was the weather. While there's frequently nothing to complain about regarding Northern California weather, this day was perfect. The hills were lush and green from our frequent deluges of the past few weeks; the air was warm, but not too warm, and the winds were never really awful. Picture perfect postcard day.

After speeding down the Cheese Factory Hill (At one point I clocked us at 48.7 mph) we rode around the reservoir and then on to Pt. Reyes Station. Jerry and I split a sandwich and a bag of chips and we headed out, this time without Kurt as company.

I felt all those miles and Kurt's absence. The hills were harder and I was definitely starting to sag. But once we were up the short and easy side of White's Hill, we sailed back to San Anselmo, drove home, stuffed some more food in our faces and took naps.

That evening we engaged in our usual Sunday night activity-- going to a movie. We saw the Last Station at the Lark. What a wonderful movie! So engaging, so beautifully acted. The only downer was the popcorn. The Lark boasts organic popcorn, and to that I say, Big Whup. I'd prefer the regular stuff popped with whatever carcinogenic oil and "movie additive" that makes it tastes so good. The popcorn at the Lark was full of unpopped pieces and next to no flavor. Sorry, but I'll stick to the crap at the chain theaters. If we go back there, I'll bring truffle salt.