It Pays To Be A Member

Later today I'll post my ride/race report from Stage 4 of the Tour of California, but right now, I want to share a little of the drama of my day in a special little sub-post if you will.

The day had been close to perfect until about 1pm local time, I had glorious weather heading out to today's stage, fantastic roads to ride on (most closed to traffic or incredibly quiet) and I had good sensations in the legs considering the climbing I'd done (and the sort of climbing you just can't do in most parts of Australia.  It all went south, however, about 15km from my base in Pleasanton, when I realised I'd ridden the last 35+ km without my bike computer recording my ride.  For most people that would barely be a blip on the radar, but as a self confessed data junkie, that alone is enough to ruin my whole day.  Following that, about 10km from home it started to rain, not heavy, but it was raining nonetheless, and at about the same time I started to get a bit of the hunger knock.  I'd ridden about 90km (although exactly how far i'll never know), and although I had food in my pockets, I hadn't touched it.  All told, I was really looking forward to getting back to the hotel, slamming down some food, and jumping in the shower.  Imagine my surprise/distress when I reached the hotel, and reached in to my back pocket to find I'd lost my room key, which was especially bad since my room key was living inside my wallet.

Fortunately, my phone was still in its pocket, which happened to be the same pocket I'd put my wallet in, so after a phone call to Brad, I was back in the room to search for the wallet in the vain hope that I never put it in my pocket in the first place.  Of course the wallet I was looking for was nowhere to be found, however there was one small victory in that my everyday wallet (I carry a smaller one with me on the bike) still had my ATM card, so I could still access money, but my drivers license, AMEX, UCI Cycling License and room key were all in the wallet that had been lost.  The drivers license wasn't a massive issue since my passport was safe and sound, my room key could be replaced immediately, my racing license probably won't be required again until the summer criterium season, but the loss, and subsequent cancellation of my AMEX card would also lead to the cancellation of my  other card, which would have god only knows what kind of ramifications with direct debits and bill payments while I'm away.  The situation wasn't the end of the world, but I could certainly see it from there.

Brad and I decided the best approach would be to go looking first, then worrying about canceling any cards later due to its ramifications.  While Brad went back to work for a meeting he couldn't shelve, I showered up, but the more I thought about it, the less hope I held for finding the wallet.  I had only reached in to that pocket once on my ride, and that was on the top of Sierra Grade when I first arrived.  I stayed in that same spot for more than an hour waiting for the riders to come through, and while it was crowded, it wasn't sufficient to lose sight of the ground beneath me.  I had figured that it must have worked it's way out over the course of the day, in which case I had no chance of stumbling across it as I had covered 100km or more.  As I stood in the shower, I had all but decided to call Brad once I got out and tell him to continue on with his workday, and I'd spend the afternoon trying to repair the damage.

When I picked up my phone once I was out of the shower, I had 2 missed calls, a little strange since it was early in the morning back home, and I knew Brad was in a meeting.  Stranger was one of the calls was from Rob Stocker, part of the Footscray Cycling Club Executive Committee (and sometimes training partner), the other number was blocked, so it could have been Brad, since local cell phone numbers don't seem to show up on my phone.

Now here comes the kicker, Rob had left a message letting me know a woman from the Bay Area had tracked him down by way of my cycling license, hoping to reunite me with my wallet.  Not my drivers license, my credit card or my room key, my Cycling Australia, International Cycling Union, Footscray Cycling Club Racing License.  The other missed call on my phone was from a woman by the name of Sheila Cotter, a fellow cyclist, who had found my wallet by the side of the road near a town called Sunol, which is about 15km from Pleasanton, and from where she found the wallet, she believed it must have fallen out on the way to Sierra Grade.

As it happens, Sheila has a research background.  I'm not sure what she does for herself now, but she always has that to fall back on, because she's pretty good at it.  Sheila had contacted every Residence Inn in the Bay Area searching for a guest by my name, but since I was rooming with Brad, that turned up no results.  Fortunately for me, she didn't give up there, and more fortunately she then turned to my cycling license for clues, (I'm going to continue to use the word fortunately a few more times here because was it happened, there was a fair bit of good fortune involved) fortunately Sheila found the Footscray CC website, fortunately (and I should deviate a little here since a lot of hard and thankless work goes in to maintaining a website) the website contains contact details for all the club officials, and most fortunately, the first person Sheila called was the only club official that would have had my number in his phone (a few others might, but who am I kidding, it was still pretty fortunate that she called a training buddy).

So thank you Rob, for answering your phone to a strange number before 7 o'clock in the morning, thanks again to Rob and also Remo, Mick and all the guys who contribute to and maintain the Footscray CC website, but most of all, thanks Sheila Cotter.  You've got some good karma coming your way.