You have already read Normie's recount of the death march into Hancock and the meltdown in Oakland, but I have a bit to add to the story. And sorry in advance for the lack of pics.
First, that ride into Hancock sucked. A lot. I played a lot of mental games to pass the asphalt-melting time. I would say to myself, "as soon as I get to that corner, I will take a break" and then once I got there I would force myself to ride just a little bit further. I think it was this added level of "just a bit further" that made Normie think that I wasn't going to ever stop.
It was hot and hilly and I started a new fashion trend of completely unzipping my jersey while still wearing a bright yellow safety vest. Seeeexxxxyyyy.
I don't remember what I ate in Hancock -- but I do remember I was full. Like uncomfortable, bloated, unzipped-jersey-with-a-yellow-safety-vest-showing-off-my-bloated-fat-roll type full. It wasn't that far to Oakland and I hoped that some standing up on the bike would get my digestion kick-started. Normie and I had vaguely talked about a pool in Oakland, but I wasn't sure exactly where it was. I figured I would look for it once I got into town. I crested the top of a hill with some wind in my face and turned right to head into Oakland. I noticed some tennis courts to the right, but didn't see any pool. I headed down the hill into town and as the turn continued I realized it was a huuuuuge hill and by the time I contemplated whether I should have waited at the top, I was going about 25 mph and screaming to the bottom. On the left I saw a bar and grill (serving wings!) named after a reptile (Gators? Crocodiles? Lizards? I don't remember).
I pulled off to the right and sought muggy shade under a billboard-type sign. I plopped down only to realize I had sat on an ant hill. After some quick wiggles, I shifted over and watched the downhill for Normie.
Nothing.
Nothing.
There she is! -- Nope, just the infamous homeless wandering drifter guy.
At this point, I was sweating profusely -- all that wind was non-existent at the bottom of the hill. The air was still and humid.
I looked down at my phone to see that Normie was calling me. I answered and was instantly confused.
Sweat quickly caked up on my phone making it hard to hear. I wiped it on my jersey a few times (yeah. that helped...) and then listened intently. I honestly couldn't tell if Normie was crying or laughing. I suddenly realized that in all 27 years of our friendship, I had never heard Normie full on cry. A long sniffle followed by silence finally snapped my brain into the realization that it was definitely a cry. I asked, "what do you want me to do?" and I was met with an "I don't know." I knew that Normie would never tell me that she wanted me to come back up the hill...so I replied, "hold on, I will be right back up."
I know Normie felt bad for making my climb back up the hill -- but what she didn't realize is that I already knew I was going to have to get back up to the top at some point to get picked up by our BnB ride, so it really wasn't a big deal. I turned on some Sweet Home Alabama at top volume and I kicked ass back up that hill. It wasn't easy, but my legs had just enjoyed a nice rest and I was relieved to actually be moving and able to cool down a bit.
I thought all the way up the hill about how to best support Normie. About halfway up, I decided that my approach would be the shut up and listen approach. And that is exactly what I did. I was super proud of myself. I didn't fully understand what had made Normie so upset, but instead of yapping at her and trying to convince her not to be upset...I just listened. I know, right! Breakthrough.
After a while, I realized that the tennis courts I had seen earlier (with that green netting in the chain link fence) were actually the fences around the pool. As Normie regrouped, I spotted the country club and instantly devised a plan to get some food and brews.
I knew this was going to be the low point of the ride for Normie, so I tried to be a good steward of her vulnerability. I sulked with her, I munched snacks with her, and I handled the BnB ride logistics. I haven't always handled all parts of my relationship with Normie very well, and I was really proud to be supporting her. Once we got to the BnB, I called B from the patio (we couldn't get service inside) and lightly alluded to Normie crying as I recounted the adventures of the day. Little did I know that my summary of the events would eventually undercut all my awesome friend efforts. But that story is best saved for another day.
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