April 17th, 2022

6 cyclists, 4 camera people, and 1 driver versus Mt. Uhmunum, Mt. Hamilton, Mt. Diablo, and Mt. Tamalpais. That’s 4 Bay Area peaks at 300 miles, and 30,000 feet of climbing, all within 26 hours.

My role for this project was talent technical support,

which means that I was on set providing help in areas of environmental safety, and talent and crew wellness. Serving largely as the driver of the production, I also made sure we were on schedule, and ahead of the cyclists so that the crew would have enough time to prepare for capturing key moments of the ride. As we came to each pit stop, I was able to check in with the crew, as well as take behind-the-scene snapshots to document the experience.

Already tired from the prior day of all-day pre-production,

we woke up the next day to a terrifyingly beautiful fever dream of a project because we began early the next morning with a 4am call time. As we made our way to San Francisco from Berkeley, a rolling storm was revealed as the sun finally came up illuminating the clouds. Rain started pouring down along Pacific Coast Highway where the cyclists began the first stretch of their long winding journey.

Coming up from the gloomy storm, the ascent of Mt. Hamilton was a glorious ride up winding golden hills.

Impressive is a word I want to use to describe how I felt when seeing the riders move from one mountain to another, but it would be too premature for me to say this early on since I knew there was two more mountains to climb after this one. To say the least, I was a certainly captivated. To me, the ride towards Mt. Hamilton seemed like the most ideal version of a bike ride one might imagine when it comes to depicting something epic. The sun was hitting just right, the clouds were a dramatic haze that created glowing beams of light, and the breathtaking views certainly provided a second wind for all of us.

Spirits were high at this point. Most of the time Maude passed the crew, her effortless ability to chat it up throughout the entire ride had me delighted. As riders like Matthew and Lars rode fast and far out in front, it was amazing to see Maude and company trail not too far behind, casually chatting about how their week went. This was a major indication to me that this ride was somewhat of a normal activity for the group.

And just like that we all descended down into the blue hours of the day, and deeper into the dark night.

Once the cyclists descended from Mt. Hamilton, the crew split from them and we headed back towards civilization. We made the effort to get back to the Livermore proper before the cyclists did. At this point of the night it was dark as ever, and meeting up felt nearly impossible simply because communication was sparse since the cyclists were scattered throughout a part of the route that had spotty cell service. Since we had a couple of hours to spare before the riders expected arrival, we managed to get an hour of sleep in the car while waiting for the cyclists to roll through. It was a “sleep with one eye open” ordeal considering the uncertainty of where everyone was at. Come 1:38am, we had our first visual on Matthew, and the crew poised them selves with cameras in hand. The riders spent a solid half hour resting and fueling up, then promptly hit the reset button by warming up to get back at it.

Riding to Mt. Tamalpais from Mt. Diablo was absolutely horrendous.

To refrain from any legalities all I want to say is timing is everything when working on a project like this, and—least to say—time was not on our side when we approached the Richmond bridge. It was a rush to say the least. The cyclists came into view after taking a chance on double-backing the bridge, and they appeared like silhouetted puppets that moved along the backdrop of the rising sun. That moment felt most surreal of all because the timing felt absolutely impossible; the serendipity was out of this world considering I felt like botched it just a few minutes before.

The race continued onwards up the final mountain.

From there, the cyclists made the summit at staggered times. As far as I can tell, once the last riders made it to the top, everyone saddled up without rest and booked it down towards San Francisco. We were able to get a few minutes ahead of the cyclists before they rode onto the Golden Gate Bridge, and there was a moment while waiting where we all slipped into liminal state of being wide awake and dead asleep. We saw the cyclists turn a corner out in the distance, and we drove up quickly next to them. Taking in the high of a long ride coming to an end, we caught the cyclists panting and grinning their way past the bridge, and towards Golden Gate Park. From that point on, I dropped the crew off at the park so they can get hero shots of the victorious riders, and stayed back in the car to close my eyes during the few minutes of solitude.