My hardest ride was undoubtedly my first long ride . I had been bitten by cycling when I was about 13 or 14 , my bike was a balloon tire bike given to me by a neighbor , I used to ride it all over San Francisco and the Peninsula , I had a great sense of freedom and independence on my BIKE .
I'm not sure if it was in ' 59 or ' 60 , but Sports Illustrated had a wonderful article on the Tour De France , how cool , I needed a light weight bike . I found a used 3 speed in the want adds , $18.00 , I rode the street car over to the sellers house handed over my savings and rode my new lightweight home .
One of my friends in junior high school had just bought a used 3 speed also , it was summer vacation and the world was ours . We decided to ride to the Russian River , how far could it be ?, when you look at the map , it's not far at all .
We set out , over the Golden Gate Bridge , through Mill Valley , Fairfax and finally the Coast . All of these roads and towns would become familiar destinations as the years went by . We stopped in Tomales and ate lunch , all the wrong stuff , baloney sandwiches , potato chips , coke's . My buddy was beginning to complain about his but , his leg's , just about everything , I was having a ball .
We finally made it to Rio Nido and continued on to Monte Rio , we had cold cuts and bread for dinner washed down with orange juice , we both had a surplus army blanket tied under our saddle , we settled down in some trees and went to sleep .
In the morning my buddy was suffering so much he decided to throw his bike away and take the Greyhound home . My ride home took two days , I got lost and wound up in Bodega bay , I made it back to Samuel P Taylor Park just as it was getting dark , dinner was a Snickers Bar and some water from my canteen , I slept in the hollow of a burned out Redwood tree , until a park ranger woke me up in the morning and told me you have to pay to "camp" here .
That morning I road back to San Francisco , I soon learned the bike was way too small and the three speed saddle was a killer , and that there were special shoes and pedals and just about every thing I had was wrong .
My life as a cyclist was just beginning , my buddy never rode a bike again .
Jim McCoin
Fremont Ca