Where do I even begin for this one? [eats cookie]
This is another grand adventure with my friend Stacey, who is training for Ironman Coeur D’Alene in June. It’s not like we didn’t know it was going to be a challenging ride, as they say so plainly on their website. Our plan was to get there as early as possible, and go for the full 113 miles and 8500 ft of climbing. So we get there at 6am and it is in fact, totally raining.
Team AWESOME, ready to ride in the rain at the crack of dawn.
We notice while in line to get our cue sheets that everyone else there appears to be an elite athlete. Foreshadowing…
Ok, forget foreshadowing, to set this route the organizers must have made a list of all the most challenging hills in the area and strung them all together.
Also easy to notice is that a large number of people are driving away with their bikes to avoid the rain. What! Not us. We are going to ride the 113 miles, or as much as we can anyway, no matter what! Yeah! Ok.
The first 20 miles
After you leave the parking lot, there is a flat road out to the first challenge, Pinehurst rd which goes through the lovely community of Canyon. Redwoods, Madrones, Bay trees and a gentle rolling ascent. Oh, until it becomes sharp, steep hairpins, ending with a steep climb to Skyline Blvd. What else are you going to do at 6am on a Sunday? I mean, really.
As we continue on Skyline I point out my personal spots of interest which consist of the turnoff to my Mom’s house and several trailheads (and eventually, the steam trains and merry-go-round at Tilden Park). I also point out the beautiful view, which we have to imagine because of the pouring rain and sopping fog.
Me and my rain colored rain jacket on Skyline
Our climb to Grizzly Peak and the resultant descent into Tilden Park was really all about being rained on and getting wet, and having to blink really fast to see, and it really felt like hailstones on our faces. We were cold and uncomfortable and developing gills. Who says fish don’t need bicycles! [bubbles]
At the first rest stop at Tilden, 20 miles in, we are SOAKED like everyone else. Looking around, although we are all miserable, everyone is smiling in mutual recognition of craziness and the ridiculosity of what we are doing. (Yes, ridiculosity is now a word).
The volunteers and food at this ride are wonderful!
Everyone is so nice, and we were fed homemade baked goods, fresh fruit, SOUP, and herbed red potatoes. All handed to us with latex gloves for purposes of swine flu prevention. The mud at this stop is really slick, and we huddle under a tent, which does not prevent us from getting more wet from the rain. Lest you think our spirits are down, the two of us are actually grinning like crazy people and laughing at how much water comes out of our gloves when we make a fist. Even though we are Cold and Wet and Uncomfortable. What is even more hilarious is that it starts to rain even harder when we go to get back on our bikes. All the riders simultaneously look up and say “Gahhhh!” or some such.
wet soggy cyclists in the mud
Boo hoo! We are Cold and Wet!
The fact that others are continuing the ride shames us all into likewise continuing. It’s 100 miles after all. It can’t be raining everywhere!
Onward into the unknown…
The next thing that happens is that we descend down Wildcat Canyon. On a sunny, dry day, I think this would be a fun descent: swooping down through forest and meadow, with a few blind turns thrown in. In the pouring rain it is completely terrifying. I squeezed my brakes so hard, but couldn’t really feel the bike slow down, so my descent was much faster than I was comfortable with, especially around blind corners and with faster, fearless riders passing me with not much warning and less room between us. But I made it to the bottom, just in time for a nice red light! Another cyclist pulls up next to me. “that was terrifying!” I say. “What? no way!” he replies. Then Stacey arrives, echoing my sentiment with appropriate fervor. Fast Guy barely has time to laugh at our expense when the light changes.
Part deux
Riding around the San Pablo Reservoir is more fun swooping road, and also pretty, even though a busy street. I think after this bit is where Stacey gets her flat tire, still in the rain, although it is lessening. It is not an easy tire change so I have time to notice how many riders were actually behind us. Hooray! We left early enough! The SAG guy is really nice and tells us about all these tough hills in the area that just happen to be on our route. Ah, excellent! On the road again we are greeted with several more groups of tire-changers. “better you than me”
I've never cycled past the Carquinez Bridge before. Actually a lovely road!
We go through Pinole and could not help but notice with mouths agape, that the rain has stopped. The route continues through Martinez and we cycle past the lovely and scenic refinery (can you smell that? it’s sarcasm), the point of which turns out to be to lead us to another set of climbs, this time an actual scenic road with a view of the Carquinez Bridge. Because it’s dry now we are able to really enjoy the rolling descents between the climbs.
Let’s see, what comes next. Some climbs, more or less flat roads, more country, some wind kicks up, and here we are at the next rest stop: mile 45. Yay! This is the stop that had SOUP. more cookies, fruit, gatorade, call mom to say where we’re at. We still think we are going to continue after lunch to finish the 113 mile course. Lunch is at 73.5 miles, only 30 more for us! No sweat. As it turns out though, LOTS of sweat!
McEwen, Pig Farm and the “Bears”
The cows at the top of McEwen
What they failed to mention is that right after this rest stop there is a STEEP hairpin turn (not unlike the one in the Auburn triathlon) which opens out into a very steep and long climb. This hill was very intense, and the organizers had thoughtfully put up intermittent signs with rhyming couplets (again, like Burma Shave ads) to egg and inspire the poor schmucks on this ride. The second one I think, said “you’re almost at the top” , which was a flat out LIE, but even though the poetry was goofy, it actually really helped me keep a nice, slow but even pace. Near the top it got steeper. Stacey says this is 17-20% grade with an average of 13% grade of climbing throughout. I don’t know, but I did it without bursting into an athsma attack, which I count as a personal victory! We stopped at the crest to say hello to some really fine cows. As we went past, one of them said MOOO! quite insistently. Yeah, we don’t know what we’re doing here either!
We thought the descent would lead us gently to the next rest stop before lunch. It was instead the herald of what I will call the Festival of False Summits. Basically, there is climbing, a crest, a short downhill and then a longer climb after that. For miles. Some of the crests looked like you were going to drop off the planet. Here is my thought process during this terrain:
Climb climb climb. Oh, the crest-OH MY GOD I’M SCARED-look, we’re fine, wheeee! Crap, another climb. [downshift]
Meh-eh-eh-eh! I think this was Pig Farm hill, but I call it Goat Hill.
Before we quite realized what the pattern would be, we came across these goats. We simultaneously stopped for a picture and to stretch and make cooing noises at the goats.
It was a fortuitous break because the next turn revealed another long climb, some steepness, a false summit, more climbing, etc.
There were actually some roads along here that looked flat. They only looked flat though, because we were working hard on them! I kept asking Staceyif my back tire was flat and she insisted no, so I guess it was just a deceptive visual. My legs were so tired at this point. Left Leg tires out first, along with Left Arm, which was taxed heavily with all the brake squeezing in the rain. For a person who loves to push the big gears, I sure spent a lot of time in gear tiny! Momentum jsut didn’t work on these hills as the descents were not long enough, so downshift and pedal, pedal, pedal. After Pig Farm and some of these fake flat roads, we climbed “mama bear” hill. I have already described it. And then we were at the next rest stop! It came about 12 miles before lunch.
The woman handing out the delicious red potatoes at this rest stop was very fun to talk to and we jawed at her between snarfing down snacks. I told Stacey that if she still wanted to continue after lunch I would continue with her even though my legs are SO TIRED and I can’t even imagine climbing Pinehurst again (remember the beginning?) but it’s up to her, since I am not the one training for an Ironman. She gives me a glassy look. Ten minutes later when we are getting back on our bikes I say “yeah, I don’t think I’ll continue after lunch.” Another glassy look. “But I will if you want to”.
As we start riding again, we involuntarily make Pterodactyl sounds. Another cyclist regards us with what I think is bemusement before swooping off.
It is only 12 miles until we return for lunch, but what happens next is a hill called “papa bear”. Guess what it’s like. After that more false summits and a terrific hill of great steepness (oh, maybe that was papa bear) and we are heading back into Moraga, towards, lunch, which I mention with great frequency so you know what our conversation was like. At the top of this hill it turns out that Stacey’s tire was totally flat again. ARG! We get it hap-hazardly pumped to a ridable (sort of) um, level of pumped-up-ed-ness, and continue ona road that actually IS flat! What the heck, maybe we’re off course. No, this is right! Hey, isn’t this the road that LUNCH is served on? it is! Wait, why are we turning left off of it? And now right? Oh, of course, it’s to go up ANOTHER STEEP HILL. was this supposed to be “baby bear?” Perhaps “surly teen bear”. About halfway up Stacey pulls off into a driveway and mumbles “I need a break” and I mumble back “I need to keep going” and through concentrating on my breathing and continuing to turn my legs around I get to the top. At this point I can feel all my glute and leg muscles like they are anatomical drawings, from where they attach at the top, past the throbbing part, to the bottom. Stacey appears now with a facial expression that I can only describe as Pure Misery. we hurtle down the other side, turn left, cross the street and HERE WE ARE AT LUNCH!!!! There are nice people in the driveway cheering like we won the Olympics. And maybe we did…
As we rack our bikes we know we are done. We are not going to attempt the remaining 30 miles, and are practically gleeful about this fact! 73.5 miles we covered, with 7600 feet of climb! And it only took us 6 hours, including stops.
Stacey has GPS on her bike, so here is our ride as a graph! Please be impressed.
Lunch is delicious. Everyone is excited to be there. We eat and share stories with a nice man from Berkeley named Adam who finally admitted he was going to attempt the final 30 miles, and we heartily encourage this behaviour. “better you than me”
Actually, I would love to do this entire ride, but I would need to train better for it. We were using it as a training ride, but we should have treated it as an event to train for!
As we pushed our sodden, very dirty bikes and gear back toward the car, a cyclist who was ready to drive off in his own car saw us and started jumping up and down and cheering. We did it! We all say. We are so glad we weathered the rain! What a great day! What an adventure! YAY US!
So if you want to do lots of climbing with fabulous and kick-ass cyclists and volunteers, all the while eating gourmet food, by all means do this ride!
Team AWESOME, dry and grimy, a challenging ride IN THE BAG
Tags: Century Ride, cycling
Awesome! Incredible! Wow!