Yesterday, we biked up Diablo and drank beers that I had stuck in my jersey pockets and in my water bottle cage.
I got a hot dog, which was possibly as exciting as watching the race. And then thousands of spectators in costumes, with varying degrees of ability and sobriety, all descended down the hill mixed in with racers trying to get back to their cars.
Today, we watched the Marin stage. (I tried to attach a video, but couldn’t from my phone.) It was much more low-key, possibly because drinking at 8:30 am doesn’t sound that appealing.