We ride alone

We’re SMBC riders; we’re used to riding alone. So it was no surprise that I was the only bike at the Ralston entrance to westbound 92. It was only a minor surprise that the minutes ticked off with no riders seen coming from the donut shop, not even riders in quadracycles.

 

No one behind me

No one behind me

No one behind me
No one in front of me, either

No one in front of me, either

No one in front of me, either

Notice the lack of bikes. Notice the lack of traffic. Notice the lack of rain. So why was I alone?

 

OK, it was foggy wet at the summit of 17 and it was out-and-out rain from Scotts Valley to Capitola. The rain turned into a slight drizzle as I got closer to Watsonville.

Breakfast at the Beach Street was as good as usual. However, we not only ride alone, we apparently eat alone, too.