Brian and I stopped at a scenic turnout on Skyline Rd. yesterday to check on a voicemail to make sure the caller wasn't Todd warning us he'd be late or worse, not riding. It was 6:00 a.m. and dark. There was a van parked in the turnout. I had my helmet light on full blast because we'd been descending and I hadn't switched it to a lower output. Anyway, I stood there checking the message. It turned out the message was an abusive from my friend Chris who questioned my manhood because the past two years I'd ridden only five double centuries a year, while in 1939, a British racer Tommy Godwin rode 75,065 miles, which is over 205.6 miles a day for 365 days (Tommy Godwin's 1939). Since neither Brian nor I was particularly keen on descending into fog in 37-degree temps on wet Tunnel Road to meet Todd who was climbing toward us, Brian waited while I stood there, heaping abuse on Chris on my Blackberry. Suddenly the van started up, the driver pulled out of the turnout and made a 3-point turn. As he did so, he rolled down the window and gruffly said, "What's the problem?" We said, "No problem" and cracked up. He drove away. We had no idea there was anyone in the van and, obviously, my headlamp woke up the occupant. I think we found it funny because it was so unexpected. You had to be there, I guess.
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