I cycled up and down Mountain Charlie Road in the Santa Cruz Mountains Saturday afternoon. Mountain Charlie is a very narrow single lane road that is steep, curvy, and poorly maintained. It’s a nice, lightly trafficked road that takes me to the summit of the Santa Cruz Mountains.

Mountain Charlie Road is a little more challenging than your normal hill climb road — the pavement is poorly maintained and the curves are unusually sharp, meaning you really need to watch your speed. If you lose control on some corners, there’s no rail or wall to stop you. I don’t recommend Mountain Charlie unless you know the road and you know your bike. You need good brakes, good tires, and good bike handling skills.

Like any hill climb, the real fun is the ride down. Saturday, though, I was thinking of Rachel Atherton. Immediately prior to my ride I was at the bike shop and heard about Rachel’s head one collision with a pickup truck not far from where I live. She was flying downhill on Amesti Road in Corralitos, crossed the centerline coming around a curve and hit a truck, flying over the hood and into the windshield.

Later on, I learned of Liz Hatch’s crash during a fast downhill in Napa County when she hit a patch of pine needles coming around a curve, lost control and went over a guard rail at nearly 30 mph.

A couple of years ago, local cyclist Bob Hebeler was riding down Empire Grade Road at about 40 mph in the Santa Cruz Mountains when he reportedly crossed the centerline going around a curve and hit a pickup truck going the other direction. Unlike Atherton, Hebeler passed away from massive head injuries from his collision.

I’ve known of a couple of other amateur cyclists who’ve perished after losing control and crashing on steep and fast downhill runs. I also have motorcycling friends who’ve taken risks biking on winding, curving roads, and lost control around those corners.

One of my more spectacular crashes was in Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado. Coming down Trail Ridge Road I attempted a left turn onto Fall River Road to get to the Fall River park entrance. I had descended from 12,000 feet elevation to 9,000 feet in 15 miles and 20 minutes. I took that turn at probably 30 mph when I hit sand and slid through the intersection on my side.

Many of us take risks when cycling, but what about you on those hills? Are you a thrill seeker? Do you stay on your side of the road? Or have you lost control momentarily and either gone off the road or drifted into the oncoming lane?

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

And this will be the day — this will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning:

My country ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.
Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim’s pride,
From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!

Did you know you can plant wire clothes hangers and they grow up to become bicycles?

I had a pretty odd dream last night.

My wife and I traveled by river boat to a snow ski resort. A Caltrain conductors who’s a jerk to bicyclists cameoed in my dream as the boat captain.

We arrived at the ski area, but the snow was melted (just like in real life in California). I slipped my skis on — and I mean this literally because instead of ski boots and bindings, my skis had rubber boots like water skis do — and sushed around on slush and wet grass for a while, but I soon tired of that and rode my bicycle on the ski runs as I dodged out of control snowboarders.

The boat carried loaner bikes that were folded into a storage closet. When I helped my wife with a loaner, I discovered these bikes were made completely with the wire clothes hangers you get from the dry cleaner. Frame, handlebars, wheels, cranks, even the chain were made with hanger wire, and they weren’t folded so much as bent for storage. To ride the bike, you had to unbend the frame into shape. In my dream, when you lifted one of these wire bikes it weighed about has much as a hanger.

I expressed some concern about the safety of this flimsy bike, but Mrs Fritz rode around on it with no problems at all.

When I awoke, I didn’t find any wire hanger bicycles on the Internet, but I did find:

• This bicycle map holder constructed from clothes hangers.
• Clothes hangers constructed from bicycle wheels for only *ahem* $24.