My Japanese " SUPA" buddy
My friend Kit was finally fed up with the politics in his country, he recently told me. So he quit his job and came out to California, the “SUPA” Land of the Free-riding Americans. Here he wanted to get a job as a science teacher, and ride the gold rush trails of Tahoe, the streetcar steeps of San Francisco, and the Hollywood hills of L.A. Kit also wanted to ride with the American ‘legends’ on the trails he has read about for a decade in all his colorful, cartooned Japanese mountain bike mags.
Marla and Kit...
I’m sure his calendar is packed with epic trips to Yosemite and Big Sur, and peppered with ride dates with famous west coast mountain bikers like Julie Furtado and Brian Lopes. This guy had done his research and networking, and now it was paying off.
In his first call to me last month, he bragged that he had already bagged a ride with Gary Fisher in the infamous hills of Mt Tam. That’d be a tough one to beat, I thought.
Today, Kit surprised me that he was in my town and informed me that I was to ride with him. He also asked through his crackly cell phone signal, “How many hour… can we ride… on your trail?”
“Well,” I hemmed. “Today’s the shortest day of the year,” I hawed. But really, that morning, I had just done a brutal hamstring workout, and winced at the thought of an epic.
“We ride with flash lights,” Kit asserted.
We met, like many rides, at the local Starbucks. I brought extra water, Clif Bars, a jacket, and knee warmers. He brought a camera.
I never really had to eat any of the bars or layer up. But what I did was stop riding every few minutes to pose for his many pictures.
Kit took lots of “SUPA” shots; he was happy.
My quivering hamstrings were spared, and I never even had to invent a legendary excuse. I was super happy, too.