For the first time, a Tour of California stage both started and finished in San Luis Obispo county. Riders started on the Pismo Beach pier and when Wednesday’s stage four ended beachside in Avila Beach, Peter Sagan held off challengers in an uphill sprint to win the stage.

The atmosphere was festive in both south county beach cities, though the attendance at both was somewhat less than either of the previous two years, when the cities hosted a stage start and finish respectively.

One spectator-friendly aspect of both Avila and Pismo was a bike valet, which I used at both locations after riding my own bicycle in.

Photos by Owen Main

Thousands of people came to Avila Beach on Thursday, but not as many as organizers had planned for. By Owen Main

They rolled in. At a pace that mortals should not be able to ride, the best cyclists in the world sped from Santa Barbara to Avila Beach on Thursday. Crowds lined the streets through some of the mostly-rural ride, but the big crowd was expected at Avila Beach.

“Over 7,000 people” were expected, according to the California Highway Patrol, and there was much talk of shutting down access into town because of limited parking. Everyone was on full safety alert. Then a funny thing happened. Barely anyone showed up. Based on Fansmanship’s totally unscientific and uneducated estimate, there were somewhere between 2,000 and 3,000 spectators in the town. I don’t know if the golf-course parking lot ever filled-up. I’m pretty sure the parking areas at PG&E and Avila Valley Barn didn’t. The Bob Jones trailhead parking lot was about half-full around 11:30, which might not be that much more than a regular Thursday and is probably less than a sunny weekend day.

Don’t get me wrong, the preparation made the fan experience fantastic. I had planned on walking to and from the event on the Bob Jones trail from the KOA campground in Avila Beach, but ended up taking a mostly-empty shuttle both ways. I kept waiting for the “big crowd” to get there. The group of cycling fans that ended up coming were loud and excited, there just weren’t that many of them. It didn’t hurt my experience, though. I had no problem finding a great vantage point to take some photos from, my photographer was able to easily get out of town after the finish, and I was able to move pretty freely from where I stood to the podium to take some photos there too.

One really cool feature was having a video screen with the ATOC commentators easily heard on the street corner. Watching the pros pedal on the roads I frequent was exciting and watching Jens Voigt make his move on a “sticky” little hill that always annoys me was nothing if not really fun.

Watching the pack make its way into Avila with a crowd was one of the most interesting and different fan experiences I’ve ever been a part of. The build-up is huge, only to watch each rider pedal by for 15 seconds. Then it’s over. The podium celebration was cool to see, but the “bang for your buck” — how much of the actual event you get to watch — is actually pretty short. Short and exhilarating.

So what will the impact of the tour’s quick stop in Avila Beach be? Some businesses like the Hula Hut and Avila La Fonda Hotel went out of their way to greet customers (the cookies at La Fonda were incredible!). The Custom House looked more full than I’ve seen it mid-day on a Thursday in May and there was obviously a higher-than-normal buzz around town.

Unfortunately for Avila Beach, a coffee shop owner who closed down for the ride may have, in the end, been the most visible business in the area. The reason — this flyer that was posted on the door of Jo Mama’s Coffee last week:

http://teroknortailor.tumblr.com/post/45334356790/philhollywood-star-trek-the-next-facepalm

Photos of the flyer went viral faster than the swine flu. I saw it on Facebook as recently as last Wednesday, saw it myself on Saturday, and by Monday a friend of mine in San Diego emailed me and asked if this place was in SLO County. It’s possible at this point that most California cycling enthusiasts who spend any time on social media have seen it by now.

I tried to contact the owner, Michael Kidd (not to be confused with Michael Kidd-Gilchrist). I left a card at the shop last Saturday — but have not received a call back.

Reaction to the flyer has varied in intensity, but it has been about as one-sided as you might imagine. Local bicycle shop owners were confused both at how a business owner wouldn’t want to take advantage of the opportunity to do more business than usual and also at the “safety” issue, cited in the article, that nobody I talked to quite understood or bought-in to.

One local bicycle shop owner called it a face-palm moment. Another called it a head-scratcher.

The crazy and even more confusing thing to me is that Michael Kidd, the owner of Jo Mama’s and presumably the author of the flyer, has had a fleet of bicycles in the past to rent to visitors to Avila Beach.

Kidd has also taken to responding on the KSBY message board on this article.

On a local cycling email group, cyclists were not impressed. Here are a few tidbits:

Joe Momma,

You may think you can hate the Amgen and court the local rides at the same time but it doesn’t work for me.  I’ll never cross the threshold of your business again.

Sincerely,

Local Spandex Bike Jerk

And another,

Joe Momma’s “locals only” attitude is so small-mindedly cliche. The urban dictionary’s “locals only” definition reads, “Locals Only – A term used by local assholes, especially at beaches, who show hostility towards anyone who is not from the specific area. Also common in coffee shops. Be prepared to receive nasty glares from the locals. You don’t have to be a tourist or from out of state to experience this, you could live in the next town over. Local elitists love to ruin your fun.” If Joe Momma’s wants a “locals only” business, I recommed that it move to a less touristy area. Maybe Taft (off the main road) would be a good location for only crusty locals?

And another…

I’m pretty disappointed at this. We are out of town visitors who frequent the SLO area on vacation throughout the year. Looks like we’ll never be going to this coffee shop.  Oh, I think I am going to share this flyer on Facebook too. The great thing about social networking is that instead of telling just a few of your friends about something you can tell hundreds….instantly.

You get the idea. In an age of social networking, cyclists from all over the state and probably the country were made aware of Jo Mamas’ anti-spandex declaration in a flash. Perhaps the “All publicity is good publicity” mantra is where he’s going with it?

I grew up in Cayucos, a town with many similarities to Avila. We live in an amazing place that is calm and peaceful the vast majority of the time. People come and visit places like Avila and Cayucos from all over California and all over the world. When people come and visit, us locals don’t always like it. We complain that the “out of towners” ruin our local scene.

Here’s the thing though — and I’ve understood this since I was in 8th grade and cleaned rooms at a Cayucos motel for some cash in the summer. Without tourists in town spending money, the options we have as locals become much more limited. If you’re going to be excited about a cool little coffee shop, know that it probably doesn’t exist without visitors. When we start limiting who these visitors can and should be (for instance, I heard Kidd talk about how Avila was for people from Santa Maria to Paso Robles to enjoy), you also start coming off as xenophobic.

In Cayucos, the Fourth of July is a big deal. Ten thousand people visit the town for the parade and/or fireworks. Hotels are booked. Beach rentals are packed for a week before and after. People, mostly from out of town, come and spend money at their favorite cookie shop and restaurants. I think the community has come to generally accept that there will be different people in town at the beginning of July. For a place that is so mellow most of the time, it can be a fun change.

Businesses in Avila Beach had the opportunity to make a good impression on Thursday. I think they did. All except one.

And in case you’re wondering, I did have my spandex.

So I guess, in the end, the Tour proved Jo Mama’s Coffee wrong. Instead of an “unsafe” throng of fans in town, there ended up being marginally more people in town than during the Friday evening farmer’s market they hold there most of the year — with significantly more security. This article said there were “no incidents to report” from the Sheriff’s office.

In the end, everyone did almost too good a job of “warning” people and not quite a good enough job of “getting people excited” about coming. What should have been behind the scenes planning was made so public that people didn’t want to go through the hassle and worry of getting out to Avila for such an unknown. Ironically, had they come they wouldn’t have had any difficulty getting in and out of town for a world-class sporting event.

Yesterday, during my first ride in 3 weeks, I chose some different background music. It was a great choice and stimulated a chain of thought that maybe only I thought was interesting. Here goes anyway…

__________________________________

Here we go. Back in the saddle.

What to listen to?…. How about Sublime.

On the bike and rolling. I always skip the first few songs of this album, I wonder why. Oooo that wind is going to be rough today. At least it won’t be too hot…

Early in the mornin’

Rising to the street….

That wind feels good in my face. Not on my legs though. Onto Los Osos Valley Rd. now and WOW that wind is worse than I thought.

It all comes back to you

You’re bound to get what you deserve

Try and test that

You’re bound to get served

Damn right. I haven’t gone on any rides lately and now I’m going to pay for it. Head down. Get comfortable, O. Feel the Sublime groove. Pedaling as hard as I can muster and still only maintaining 14 miles per hour. Like it says in the Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy: “Don’t Panic.”

Just think about how great that wind will feel when that hurricane is at your back.

It’s up to you what you really wanna do

Spend some time in America

Sweet trumpet solo. I really live in a beautiful place. Look around, don’t focus on the pain. Look at those flowers over there. I’m going the “Wrong Way” now, but it’ll be the right way on the way back.

Time to get pumped and get to the “downhill” of LOVR. Get there O.

In my mind

In my brain

I go back

Go completely insane

I have to be insane to want to do the a century ride next month. I’m hurting after 6 miles, how am I going to do 100? Press on. Focus on the music.

I’m going downhill now, so why am I not going faster? This is depressing. Get to the top of Turri and it will be OK…. yeah, right.

Let it burn,

Wanna let it burn

Wanna let it burn

wanna wanna let it burn

My legs are burning. Did I put sunscreen on? I’m slowing down and going downhill. Hang in there, the ride will be better. Get to Turri and you get to turn with the wind to your side. You got this.

What I really wanna know

My baby

What I really wanna say

I can’t define

Well it’s love…..

What a great song. I’m totally in a groove now. Singing along even. Love being on the road. I don’t know who Sancho is, but his punkass better freaking watch out!

Believe me when I say

That I got something

For his punkass

I battle the elements, not any one person out here. That being said, this wind is definitely a punkass. Turing on Turri now. The worst is behind me. I think.

Can’t fight against the youth

But I can fight against the hill. This feels good with a mellow pseudo-ska beat in the background. That cow is looking at me like I’m an alien. But I don’t look anything like Sam Cassell or Nick Van Exel. So I don’t know what his problem is. Push it O. Almost up the hill.

What has been sold

Not strictly made of stone

Just remember that it’s flesh and bone

Whoa, that car was a little close. That would suck to get hit. Especially on Turri, where cell reception might not be great.

Grooving my way to the top. Don’t stop there, just turn straight around like a gangsta. Like it didn’t even phase you. Like when you get hit by a pitch. Don’t rub it.

You have a little time for your head to stop being dizzy. Even have time for a quick drink of water. Good deal. Forty minutes to get to the top of the hill. With this wind, it should take about 25 to get home.

Up to 35 miles per hour and down the hill before I fully realized I was at the top.

Fast forward almost to the end. There’s that baseline. No more wind in my face. Instead, it’s at my back. Caressing me and helping me go 25 MPH on an incline.

You hate me

Cuz I got what you need

That wind pushing for me instead of against me is definitely what I need. Spanish lyrics are about where my frame of mind is at this moment.

Levanta levanta

Tienes que gritar

Levanta levanta

Tienes que bailar

My feet feel like they’re dancing on the pedals. In my highest gear. I don’t feel any wind. But I’m going 25.

Yep, moments like this are why I ride. The 40 minutes of pain are totally worth the 25 minutes of bliss.

That’s that lovin’ sound.

Singing along. Almost keeping up with cars near the stoplight on LOVR and Foothill.

Let the lovin,

Let the lovin’

Come back to me.

“OK TEAM (notice there is no i in TEAM) here’s the scoop: Lighthouse Ride, end of September (exact date to be provided later when I feel like it), 60 plus miles, commitment, training, support, and most of all a sore butt. But: think about the feeling of accomplishment after you begin to get feeling back into your legs, your arms and hands stop trembling, and your eyes begin to refocus. I’ll have more later, including guest speakers, links, workout schedules from my heart, firm, hard, and software and other technological tools. Keep in touch.”

My family and I had been riding on the Bob Jones Trail a few times and discussed riding more, but none of us saw this coming. Steve Main had thrown down the gauntlet. We had seven months to go from seven or eight miles round trip to over 60. “This should be fun,” I thought.

Having played three sports in high school, and as a regular at lunchtime basketball games, I had only small worries about being able to finish the ride. While I had never been on a bicycle for that long, I was sure that with some practice and training I’d be able to complete the metric century and have fun doing it.

Throughout February and March, my father’s email and the looming Lighthouse Ride inspired us to ride more. My brother and sister participated in a few “training” rides, but a core group of four of us were present on most weekends. While my father and I rode ahead and waited, my mother and wife worked hard to improve their riding. Before long, we rode 20 miles. San Luis Obispo to Los Osos and back. We thought it was a really long ride. When we got back home, 20 miles felt like an eternity. I was sore for a few days after and my wife began to waver about being able to finish the big ride.

In June, we rode from San Luis Obispo to Pismo Beach via Price Canyon and back on the coast–a 25-30 mile ride. In Pismo, we realized we might not have fueled ourselves as well as we should have ahead of time. So the five of us had a good snack, refilled our water, and set off toward San Luis Obispo. The M&M’s I had did what I needed them to do, but my parents struggled and the heat finally got to them 22 miles into the ride. While my wife, sister, and I completed the loop and made it back to the car, the doubt about the group being able to make 60 miles was as great as it had ever been.  While 25 miles was the longest three of us had ever ridden, it was still less than half of what loomed before us.

While I played basketball, football, and baseball in high school, I had never trained myself to participate in any “endurance” sports. I liked the feeling of consistent exercise and being able to take a quick ride after work or on a weekend morning. Unlike other sports, participation didn’t have to be a production. The bike was always there and the road provided solitude and a place to think that few other places could. Combined with sporadic basketball, I began to feel stronger and more fit. Clothes started to fit better and I felt really good.

Our team scheduled rides around fun places and I saw much of the county I’d never really taken notice of before. Edna Valley, the frontage road through Shell Beach, Pismo Beach, and the road to the Oceano Dunes quickly became favorites. The Bob Jones trail became a part of a good ride, not the whole ride.

With the ride was less than a month away, my work schedule got busy. I traveled for two of the four weeks leading up to the ride, leaving little time for the training I’d been enjoying. The week before the ride, I traveled to Honduras for work. Despite being in another country and having lots to worry about I found myself wondering things like how difficult it would be to ride a bicycle in a city in Central America–namely San Pedro Sula.

Upon arrival back to the Central Coast and San Luis Obispo, I was struck with how lucky I am to live here. The calm traffic and great roads make San Luis Obispo county an ideal locale for riding. The more I travel to other places, the more I realize that 70 degree February days are not common in this country. I need to be more thankful more often. But I digress.

Cuesta College parking lot. 7:00. AM. Four of us trained enough to sign up for the ride and we were ready to go. Only one problem: it was warm. On a day that was the hottest of the year throughout the Central Coast, the temperature would rise to a sweltering 110 degrees in San Luis Obispo and will be well over 100 degrees on the coast. At 7:45, when we finally get started, it shouldn’t have been as warm as it was–well over 70 degrees. As we pedaled out onto the road, we felt good. At least we wouldn’t have to worry about getting cold.

Ten miles into the ride. We were all still feeling good. Almost to Cayucos, the group was still riding together and at a decent pace. It was 8:30 and the temperature in the small beach community was rising above 80 degrees. This did not bode well. As we rolled into the designated pit-stop at Hardie Park in Cayucos, the temperature was well above 80 degrees.

About twenty miles into the ride there was a hill. It’s a gradual hill, but in temperatures over 90 degrees by now, it was too much for my dad. At the top of the hill, he bonked (sorry dad). As my wife, mom and I rode into Cambria, my mom was overheated herself and decided that staying with my dad was probably more important than braving 100-plus degree heat.

The Main "Team"

On the way back South on Highway One, ice cold water became warm before I could even take a drink. My wife was a trooper and made it 45 miles as the coastal breeze felt more like the rush of hot air when the oven is opened. Back at the pit stop in Cayucos, the wife had had enough. I would have to pedal the last 15 miles on my own.

Quite a few people passed me during those last 15 miles. I lost count at 12 or 13. As I pulled into the same Cuesta College parking lot, caked in a layer of road grime and sweat, I wasn’t sure whether to be proud of finishing or just relieved that it was over.

Proud or relieved, I was hooked. I have participated in one more ride and my goal this year is to complete a real century–100 miles. I’ve begun to anticipate a good bike ride after work as much as playing basketball at lunch time. For anyone who knows me, that’s saying quite a bit.

As I climbed up Turri Road last week during a sunny weekend ride, the cows were scared away by my heavy breathing. There was no doubt I was suffering after a short California Winter when my bike had mostly stayed in the garage (does anyone know where I can get a good bike trainer?). But the view was beautiful. The herons flying over the back bay, the beauty of the day, and the steady rhythm of pedaling was therapudic. Unfortunately, I got a flat tire twenty miles into my ride that day and had to call the wife to come pick me up. Yep, a great day.

Like the article? Hate it? Thought it was OK? Want to comment on the great Central Coast riding options? Email me at owen@fansmanship.com .