What does it take to get 10 cops, three reporters and one teacher kicked out of jail? Apparently too much spandex.
Sunday’s destination: William Head jail in Metchosin.
The Tour de Rock team set off from the Saanich police station at 8 a.m. Sunday morning and rode West down the Galloping Goose, under the pretty canopy of trees that arches over much of the trail until we reached the West Shore.
We passed Fort Rodd Hill and continued down the narrow strip of land that looks like it could easily be swallowed up by a big wave lapping into the Esquimalt Lagoon.
From the peaceful tranquility of the ocean-side ride, we were jolted back into work-mode as we stared up Lagoon Road, a punishing, evil-stepmother of a hill. I could almost hear her shrill cackles as our wheels grinded up the slow ascent. I half thought the tree branches would turn into conniving little fingers, plucking us one by one off the route as we tap out from exhaustion.
But, we made it to the top, a steady line of heaving bodies.
The rest of the route through Metchosin was a fun, up-and-down rollercoaster ride until we could see the gates of William Head jail, glinting off the faint rays of sun peaking through the clouds.
And who was waiting for us in front of the gates, as eager as an inmate awaiting a conjugal visit, none other than Jack Knox, dressed in full spandex regalia. Jack, being a West Shore resident, biked out to join the rest of our ride.
We had just barely balanced our bikes together to stretch out and munch on some protein bars when we caught the attention of two jail guards, both built like the Hulk but with more tattoos and shorter tempers.
We were being asked to vacate the premises. This was federal land, not stretch-out-your-quads-and-complain-about-your-aching-behind land, we were informed, not in so many words.
So we hopped on our bikes and rode off, clearly feeling a little amused and possibly rebellious at having been kicked out of jail for being too bad-ass (at least that’s how I’m going to tell the story, given my penchant for exaggeration).
We were only at kilometre 30 and had a long way to go, given our 90K jaunt the Sunday before. Remember, Sundays are meant for “time in the saddle.”
Just as soon as we wondered where we were headed next, we found ourselves in Saanich looking at the approach to Prospect Lake Road. This was a cruel trick. Isn’t Prospect Lake Road, that serpentine beast of a road, reserved for hill night? Not anymore.
We tackled it together, practicing pedalling hard down the valleys to coast as much as possible up the hills. We only got tangled up once, an ugly ascent where not gearing down fast enough led some of us to weave across the road like Bambi on ice, frantically trying to win a stalemate with our pedals. It was like a slow-speed crash, bikes swerving into each other, trying to stay clipped in and not lose our balance. Chandler and I ended up coming off the bike and had to re-start on a hill which had about as much grace as Rob Ford throwing a football.
Whenever we screw up, there’s usually a lesson involved. Our trainer, Bob “the Bobfather” MacDonald, said we need to better anticipate the hills so we can gear down accordingly.
With these words of wisdom etched in our brain, we rode back to the Saanich police station.
We clocked 60K, “a hard 60 K” Bobfather underscored, so as to not downplay our work for the day. Not as hard as jail, but close.
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Katie DeRosa is one of the media riders for this year’s Cops for Cancer Tour de Rock, a 13-day bike ride from Port Alice to Victoria. Follow DeRosa's blog for details about the ongoing training, leading up to full coverage of the ride Sept. 20 to Oct. 3. To donate to her fundraising campaign, click here.
