Me, Lori and Stacey at the start.
This was just fabulous. Maybe it’s the weather… yes, my reward for cycling the first 3.5 hours of the Grizzly Peak Century in the rain was to ride all 100 miles of Strawberry in perfect, sunshiney, singsongy, prozac-like weather, with a beautiful cool ocean breeze to complement.
I rode the 65 mile course in 2005 and have missed it ever since, so I had an idea of what I was in for this time. Basically, this ride strings together many of my favorite hills with the addition of a few of my un-favorite. But in good company we can be brave! (That’s a line from a John Irving novel, by the way. Points for knowing which one.)
Gasp
We started out exactly on time, rolling away from the parking lot at exactly 7am. What! I had cleaned my bike and greased the chain the night before. No way! I had everything I needed with me. That’s not true! I forgot to put the sunblock in my pocket. This time my cohorts were Lori and Stacey. So not too different from many other times. Lori was on the 65 mile route and peeled off at Airport Blvd, while Stacey and I headed toward Eureka Canyon, the first major climb of the day.
Eureka Canyon
I love cycling this road, and this morning was no different; warm weather, redwood forest, gradual to steep incline, good times! And lots of potholes of course. The sign saying “rough road” halfway up was just silly. Tell us when it’s smooth, how about! About 3/4 of the way up (it’s about a 10 mile climb, forget exactly) my bike started making a loud ratchet sound on the upstroke. Great. As people passed I quizzed them: what do you think that sound is? It’s not the derailleur- I’m shifting just fine. Must be a twig in the spoke or something. At the top, we found nothing visually wrong or missing, the gears spun well and silently without me in the saddle. Hmp. Ok, we’ll continue then…
Stacey and her figgy newtons
At the top there is some hair raising descending over tightly turning and massively potholed terrain. I had an exciting moment when people were riding closely on either side and I was heading right toward a water bottle in the road. Augh! A quick swerve failed to start a bicycle pile up and I was free to enjoy the splendid view of the Soquel Demonstration Forest, the Santa Cruz Mountains and Monterey Bay.
The first rest stop is right after this bit, and this is where we collected another riding buddy, Jill! She is much speedier than we are so we were not surprised when she disappeared in front of us down Old San Jose Road. By the way. The summit and this descent are often Very Cold for Cyclists, but this day was verging on hot! Good bye arm warmers. I won’t need you as I swoop through the trees! It’s long and fun and I always forget that there are climbs on the way down and take them in a really high gear. Uff!
The Dog Festival
It was actually a real Dog Festival, taking place at Soquel High School at the bottom of that hill. The red light afforded a chance to coo at a puppy in the car next to us when we realized we weren’t turning left, we were going straight, and we are in the wrong, wrong lane. Luckily we had made friends with the dog owner and driver, who allowed us to clop over to the appropriate lane in front of her. Heh heh. (”clop” because we’re wearing bike shoes with cleats of course)
“Oh No”
Then I realized where we were going and figured out we were about to do two of my un-favorite things, go down Spreckels (steep hill, ends in a stop sign over a big grate, often piled with cars) and go up Rio Del Mar Hill (straight up with bumps and close traffic). We found Jill again on our way there and she led us through. I needn’t have worried about anything. No traffic on Spreckels (”look Julia, no cars!” says Jill) and I rocked the hill just fine. We go through the lovely neighborhoods of Aptos and Rio Del Mar, and hear some whooping and hollering from a porch. We turn our heads and are treated to a MOON. At least he was tan so as not to blind us.
Tour Guide
Lattes at the rest stop! Surely you jest!
Because this ride is in my proverbial Back Yard and I have done much of the route before, I amused myself by alerting Stacey about hills to come, comparative steepness and length, and personal landmarks. ( All the while trying to ignore the aforementioned ratchet noise my bicycle is making with increasing loudness. )
The second rest stop is at the Calfee Bicycle um, place they make the bicycles at. We lost no time in discovering that they were serving lattes with torani syrup as well as biscotti, kalamata olives and everything else you would normally serve cyclists. We stayed there for 25 minutes, talking about things like how much we all weigh.
On the way out, I am prepping them for what I insist is the most difficult collection of climbs in the ride when I totally make a wrong turn. “…this way…!” I hear from the other driveway. Heading back out onto San Andreas Rd we are there in the Strawberry Fields, with hills to the left and ocean to the right. There is a glorious bank of fog sitting on top of the blue blue water and the birds are singing. La la la.
Elkhorn Slough
We chat through the fields, through Watsonville, towards Elkhorn Slough. Now Jill is in front, going straight but the wrong way, and we turn, calling out cheerfully “…this way…!” She rejoins and we ride through the slough. Well, not literally, we stayed on the road and everything.
Just in case you are not familiar, Elkhorn Slough is beautiful, with rolling hills for cyclists, flat water for the water birds, train tracks running through it, and a big power plant in the background, just for irony. When I am there I either want to paint or ride.
Hills, anyone?
Because we are riding on rolling hills, where you can easily build momentum, and all the different rides I have gone on in this area, I almost don’t notice the left turn we are supposed to make at Strawberry Rd. I swoop off suddenly to the left calling in alarm “Left turn here!!!” and nobody misses the turn.
At this point, Jill and Stacey are trying to guess when the big 18% grade hill is that I have been mentioning. Rest assured YOU WILL KNOW when you see this one! Meanwhile, Strawberry Rd becomes hot, since we’re away from the coast now, a little girl waves from her yard (”Hi!!!”), and my bike is loud. (Hey Jill, what do you think that sound is? The crank? Does it need lube?) The road then turns upward. It’s a gradual climb with no breeze, and it’s long and becomes steeper as it lengthens. (Is this the big hill? No?) I have to concentrate on my breathing because my legs are tired and I don’t want to blow my chances of making it to lunch- we still have two more big hills before lunch- I remind everyone. It’s funny now though because my bike is making that rhythmic ratchet noise and Stacey’s chain is tapping lightly on her derailleur, and we sound like some crazy machine with our heavy breathing. (Jill climbs stealthily behind us with ease and power). I am sweating like a cartoon, with beads flying everywhere and pouring into my eyes (YAY). Eventually we are rewarded by a fast downward curlicue which dumps us onto a main, flat road, with slow and go traffic. We totally ride past all the cars.
This is the hill I have been talking about
Jill, me and Stacey. Maybe at the Calfee stop? Those smiles look coffee driven.
Our next turn is the precursor to the hill I’d been going on about: Tustin rd. Anticipation mounts. It takes longer to get there than I remember, and we’re approaching 70 miles and we’ve already been climbing quite a bit. Just to paint the picture. We are not fresh daisies.
We make the turn and there it is: the wall of road. Is THAT it? ha ha ha. Well. I announce, by way of convincing myself: I know we can all do this because I did it in 2005. So we hunker down and up we go, inch by inch. (SCRAPE SCRAPE SCRAPE says my bike) It is longer and steeper even than I remember, and I have to talk myself through all the way, huffing and puffing and pushing hard on very tired and very sore legs. (Aside: no asthma attack!!!!!! insert personal victory here) Jill waits for us at the top, then Stacey, and then me, announcing in spurts “must… keep… pedaling…” and then downhill we go, WHEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Stop sign.
“Just one more Hill”
There is another very steep hill before lunch, a 15% grade this time, which is better than the 18% one we just did, but still. After that we turn into the park for lunch, which is also a climb. At this point, we are not jsut tired but cranky, and the noise of my bike is driving me completely MAD.
Another rider checked my bike for me and discovered, at long last, that the left crank was loose. Ah! Newly tightened and our attitudes replenished with sandwiches and soda, we set off to our next destination, which just so happens to be Gizdich Ranch, where they served us PIE and crepes. I had the pie. If you couldn’t guess.
After that we rolled on to one of my favorite-est ride routes known as Hazel Dell. Yes there is some climbing here, but in comparison to the earlier hills, these seem easy and smooth, even with some length to them. And my bike is quiet, so I am able to sneak up on the people walking their bikes. (Ahhhh.)
The rest of it
We hightailed it back. There, that’s it! 100 miles, and almost 8,000 ft of climbing complete. Check! We ate what food they had left to serve us and Jill bought us pies that they sold off for 2$ each! Yay! Fun. The end. Thanks again to Stacey who lets me steal the pictures from her blog.
Better than a medal!