seeing home thru different eyes

I grew up in a small town in northern California - Fairfield. It was basically a small, Norman Rockwell type town whose existence centered around an Air Force base. Fairfield sits on the edge of the Bay Area and only a short drive from Napa.I just heard the “ooohs” and “aaahs” of my wine drinking friends. Napa. The Mother Ship is calling you home....But I have a secret. Napa has not always been what it is now. Sure there was always wine, but there was also a mental institution. And a ramshackle downtown full of hippies and white trash. Those beautiful victorian B&B’s you see now? Not what I saw in the seventies! In the 80’s Napa was where we went to: Dance, at the only New Wave club in the area; Buy pot (see hippy note above) and Drink, because none of the bars carded. There was also a sneaky back way home to Fairfield where said debauchery could continue into the wee hours on a deserted country road in my 68 VW bug. No cops in sight. I promise this has to do with bikes. Promise. I went home for a visit last weekend and my sister and I took a drive out to the wine country. Napa...Sonoma and then Santa Rosa - to NorCal Cylcery. Originally the plan was to drive out to King Ridge Road (google it!), but we never made it. It was a gorgeous drive fueled by 7 eleven slurpees and roadside stand cherries. As I drove my little rental car though, I saw these towns I knew like the back of my hand thru new eyes and I MISSED MY BIKE. Like literally missed it. Like the lover I had left behind. I wanted to be out of the car and riding the countryside. Stopping at wineries and eating over priced antipasti from “Napa Style”. And then came the kicker. That “deserted debaucherous back road to Fairfield” is hwy 121. I saw the bike route sign and wanted to cry. As we climbed into and out of the valley, twisting and turning, I almost wept. I pictured the exhilarating descents and challenging climbs. I even texted my bike hubby - George Vargas - some of you know him :) and told him we HAD to ride this road. No longer was this hicksville, but the perfect ride. Next time I am taking my bike.