Ted brought back fond memories, for me it was from the early 60's. Our training rides would normally start somewhere in San Francisco and either go South to San Jose or North over the Golden Gate Bridge.
The top of every hill was a sprint, every city limit sign was a sprint. I remember the nervousness in the pack the pace speeding up, the subtle gear changes, I tried to include my gear change with returning my bottle to its cage, it fooled some but not all. It was normal on the way back from San Jose to cross over the Coast Range to Highway 1, normally when you crested the hill you rode into the coast fog and as much as a 15 degree drop in the weather. The sprint into Half Moon Bay was always well fought, I broke a chain in one of those.
The rides to Marin were fantastic, we normally crossed Mt. Tamalpias and then up the coast on Highway 1.I remember the sprints in to Rancho Nicasio being especially long, imagine fifteen or twenty riders spinning 52/13 combinations before even beginning the sprint The major change has been the amount of traffic on the road, you don't dare have three riders abreast on El Camino sprinting flat out. In those days about half of El Camino Real had no sidewalks, the same with Marin County, it was mostly dairy ranches.
And for those of you waiting for it most of the bikes were Italian, Bianchis, Cinellis and the small builders that nobody ever heard of, brought back by the guys who had raced in Europe. I remember those having especially nice fit and finish.
Jim McCoin, yeah stuck in the Sixty's
Fremont Ca