Big Wild Ride in Alaska! July 2013

Preface/Disclaimer:  I’m writing this from recollections of over a week ago, and some events are not well-recalled, or may be out of sequence, and names may be incorrect.  I hope to add photos later, but I'm traveling and don't have the means to easily do so.  

Day 1 - Valdez to Delta Junction

The ride started promptly from Valdez at 11:59pm, and headed up along a river at an enthusiastic pace.  Everyone was raring to go, as we’d had a day and a half to kick around, and we were there to ride!  It was strange to ride at that time, as there was more light in the sky than one is accustomed to living in California.  Outlines of clouds and the silhouettes of the mountains could easily be made out, all “night” long, in fact.  We went by some beautiful waterfalls, and began climbing about 20 miles out.  The grade wasn’t too steep, 6-8%, but it was long (8 miles?),  and it got pretty windy and a bit wet near the top, and on the descent.  We got to the first control around 0230,  and I was glad to have fenders.  At this point, Deb Banks and I rode together, keeping the pace a bit more realistic for a ride of this duration.  The light was increasing at this point, and more detail of the surroundings became apparent.  Everything was a lush, green forest, with lots of streams and rivers.  This beauty and nature was to be the theme of the day, as the highway from Valdez to Delta Junction had very little in the way of towns or traffic.  

Our second control had a buffet style breakfast with some Russian-themed food additions.  Unfortunately most of it was lost on me, and I conservatively settled for a bowl of oatmeal and fruit, along with half a waffle coffee, and OJ.  I took a banana, too.  I was glad to be done with that stop, as now (0530) it was full daylight, and my brain was out of sleep mode, though I was still tired from lack of sleep.  

As the day went on, the winds from the North picked up, and stayed with us until about 2030 or so.  It made sense for all to join up in pacelines, and we did so for much of the day.  We rode with lots of different people, including a very steady group that included Dan Driscoll and Pam Wright.  It was fun getting to know them on the ride, and we stayed with them for quite a while before forming another group whose pace was just a tick faster.  Not sure that was a good thing, because some of the faster riders pulled at a rate that was hard for me to keep on, but more of the riders who took a pull rode at a more sane pace, moderating the paceline a bit.  

The scenery was spectacular!  Views of the mountain ranges, particularly the Wrangells, were unforgettable.  One could see vistas far and wide.  The temps were in the mid-70’s, and except for the headwinds, it was perfect for riding all day.  The highway had a decent shoulder, and most of the pavement was good. Lots of rolling terrain, however, and that kept chipping away at my cycling strength as the day progressed.  

At a lunch stop somewhat later in the afternoon, we spent a bit of extra time there, both to recuperate, and to wait/help Tim Mason with a rear flat. We also had a delay due to some concerns (unfounded, as it turned out) about the road condition between this control and the next.  Some allowances for control times were made, and we eventually proceeded.  The climbs were a bit more substantial than the earlier rollers, but the views more than made up for it.  

We got to another control at about 1730, where many ate another meal.  Here it seemed pretty warm, and I was tired.  We also learned there was more climbing to come.  From here to our penultimate control, I was not feeling too well, I think from overexertion earlier in the faster pacelines.  As the evening wore on, we saw lots of large river valleys, and a lot of up and down.  We frequently saw the film crew in their pickup, and they helped keep things in good spirits.  We saw several moose on/near the roadways, which was nice.  Tim, Deb and I worked a paceline to the extent that I could, but I was definitely the weak link in our group, and they both worked to protect me from the wind were possible.  We got to a B&B that served as the final control before Delta, and I had no appetite - not a good sign.  I tried to eat soup, and when I took a drink of coffee, I knew it wasn’t staying down.  I did feel slightly better after getting sick, but I was weak.  I wished I could stop at the B&B for an overnight, but we’d done *only* 235 miles or so, and needed to make it to Delta Junction.

We left the B&B with a few others, but the group quickly disintegrated, leaving Tim Mason, and Deb Banks to pull me along at a snail’s pace.  More climbing over larger hills, but we finally got to Delta Junction High School at about 0045 the following day.  265 or so miles in 25 hours.  I managed only a few bites of food, and waited a while for the only shower with hot water, and got into my bag for about 2 hours of sleep.   

Day 2 - Delta Junction to Healy

Amazingly, I felt somewhat better awaking at 0400 for a 0500 start to the day; only 204 miles today.  Start was flat-ish, and there was a bit more traffic on the roads, but still easy riding.  For reasons I don’t recall, I rode solo for a while, not joining with Deb except occasionally. Food went down well at the controls, and when we got into the urban/industrial parts of Fairbanks, a giant salad bar worked really well for lunch.  After lunch is when the fun began.  There was a series of long, steep-ish climbs, and I quickly lost my strength.  Deb rode on ahead, and I was very drowsy, so I stopped, put on long clothing and a mosquito net, and took a roadside nap for about 30 minutes.  Fortunately the majority of mountains had passed, and found a nice couple (names?) whom I rode with for a while. II caught up with Deb later at the penultimate control, and we stayed together with several other riders as the terrain became more mountainous again.  As we approached Healy there were several sections of road under repair, and we rode on gravel several times, for at least a few miles.  This is near the end of another very long day, and the rough surface did nothing positive for my contact areas, so to speak.  Finally we got in to Healy near midnight, ate food, cleaned up and slept about 3.5 hours.  

Day 3 - Healy to Talkeetna

Deb and I rode off about 0500, into somewhat chilly air as we pedalled along to what is the entrance to Denali National Park.  Lots of tour buses along this part, but still not really much traffic.  Needless to say, we were thrilled at the views we got of Denali for much of the day.  My understanding is that this is somewhat rare in the summertime, so we were very fortunate.  Most of the riding today was comparatively flat.  Deb was in a speedy mood, however, and she and I rode with Larry Solokowsky and Carl Anderson for a lot of that day.  Again, it was hard to keep up, but, on advice of both Tim Mason and Deb, I ate more food.  Best food I think I had during my whole trip to Alaska was some home smoked Salmon from Ted, one of the control workers early that day - Wow!  That kept the mood up.  Later that afternoon we went in to a lodge with a view of Denali and I had a full meal.  I didn’t care for how full I felt when we left, but I did manage to keep up with everyone in our group that day, which I think was 170 miles.  Best thing was that we got in to Talkeetna control at around 7pm, which meant a lot of time to eat, shower and sleep for 5.5 hours in a bed - Woot!

Day 4 - Talkeetna to Anchorage

Only 120 or so miles today, and, though a bit sore, I’m better rested on this day than any - including the first!  Good thing, too, as once the traffic picked up as we approached Wasilla, the ride became less fun.  Wasilla, though situated in a beautiful area, has way too much and too fast traffic, and drivers without much patience for slower-moving cyclists.  This was particularly true when riding along the Glen Highway.  We also had to pay a lot more attention to the cue sheet, and got some bonus miles anyway, particularly in the Eagle Creek area.  Some of the bike paths were closed for reconstruction, and that made for some interesting detours. The last area was almost exclusively on a bike path, which made the entrance to Anchorage more relaxed and fun.  We arrived at the finish at 1400, and enjoyed warm temps, cold beer, and comradery of our fellow randonneurs.  

Reflections

It’s been over a week since completing this ride as I write this, but a few things stand out, both positive and a few negative (though negatives are meant constructively!):

1.  I really loved this ride, but I likely wouldn’t do it again, mostly because the weather will likely never be this good again - Seriously.  Alaska, and the Alaska Randonneurs, and the volunteers, were exceptionally good to me.  I do plan to go back and ride some more, but likely not the Big Wild Ride.  

2. The course was spectacular, and I liked that it was point to point.  I don’t know if it’s logistically possible or not, but I think BWR would be even better if the course were reversed, to start in Anchorage and finish in Valdez.  Then everyone overnights in Valdez and takes the ferry and train to Anchorage together and could swap stories of the ride.  

3.  Midnight start times are really problematic for me.  I wish Grand Randonnees would start early am (0500), so a person has a normal sleep cycle and is rested before the start.  This is especially true for travellers, who typically don’t sleep well anyway.  

4.  This has to be the prettiest 1200K out there!  Alaska is amazing in its beauty and expansiveness.  I’ve only completed 2 rides of this distance, but I can’t think of a more beautiful place in which to ride a 1200K.  I would recommend that future participants make plans to stay more than just a day or so, and do some other activities.  I wish I could’ve explored the Kenai peninsula, for example, but it would likely require at least 5 days, as distances are vast.  

2013 Gold Rush Randonee

After a fun two weeks at bike building school in Ashland, Oregon, I prepared myself for what I knew would be the most challenging ride I've done:  Davis Bike Club’s Gold Rush Randonnee, a 1200 km (750 mile) ride from Davis to the desolate NE corner of California, almost to the border of Oregon, and back.

This is a  description of the ride and course I lifted from GRR finisher Kevin Fitzpatrick: 

Along the way there would be staffed ‘controls’ where we could restock on food and water that we carry with us, eat hot food, and sometimes sleep on cots or even grab a quick shower. Where controls we far apart the organizers had set up staffed ‘water stops’ where we could refill our water bottles. We would also have the opportunity to send three bags of gear ahead to three different controls with changes of clothes, special food, and anything else we thought we might need in the middle of the ride. Where the route had a shorter alternative there would be ‘info controls’ where we would be asked to look for and record a specific piece of information that could only be found by visiting that location.

The GRR route crosses the Central Valley at night to avoid the worst of the summer heat. It then climbs into the Sierra Nevadas by way of the Feather River, goes up into the high desert of the Modoc Plateau, and further north to within a few miles of the Oregon border. Then it turns around and retraces itself back to Davis.

After the usual check in and gear inspection we waited around and socialized until we were finally underway at 6pm.  The weather was unusual for this time of year – cool and cloudy, with light showers, causing many riders to start with rain gear.  At least we wouldn’t be dealing with the valley heat that is more typical, making for a comfortable start. 

Of course, one drawback of wet roads is the necessity to ride with fenders, and the greater propensity of flats.  Sure enough, I got a flat just North of Knights Landing, and promptly lost the pack of riders I had hoped to accompany.  It always takes more time to change tubes with fenders, too, so when I was done, I was at the end of the riders, save one, Craig, who kindly stopped and waited for me to finish so we could ride together.  We chatted for a while and navigated our way to the first control at Sutter. 

Next control was Oroville, which we got to after midnight.  Nice spot with Kimber working the food orders, featuring some wonderful vegetable soup.  That, a cup of coffee, and a few Clif Bars, and I’m set to go. I ride out along Table Mountain Road with Peg Miller and rando-expert Kitty Goursolle, but pick up the pace along Hwy 70.  This part of the route is our first climb, up to Jarbo Gap.  I’m not a fast rider, but I do sustained climbs rather well for my speed, and I started catching up to the mid-pack riders.  I ended up riding a while with Clyde Butt, another experienced rider, whose pace seemed pretty fast, but still reasonable.  We descended into the Feather River Canyon in pouring rain, dodging fallen rocks on the roadway.  Car traffic in the wee hours was non-existent, and we got to Tobin around 3:30am.  Clyde wants to sleep a bit, so I move on, riding toward Greenville and Taylorsville with Roland Bevan, Patrick Chin-Hong, and (Don or Bob?). 

I was concerned about getting sleepy riding through the first night, as I've encountered this problem before.  Strangely, while I was tired and not adequately rested prior to the start of the ride, I felt OK.  I also knew that, once we were in daylight, my body clock typically permits me to ride without fear of falling asleep on the bike.  Not this time.  After the info control in Greenville, I caught myself nodding off, even though we were well into daylight (10am?).  I took some caffeinated gum, but it either didn't help, or help enough.  I was overcome with sleep as we approached the Indian Valley FD control, and fell over.  I snapped awake just before I hit the ground, so I was unhurt, but my bike had hooked hard to the right, and tore into the sidewall of the rear tire, causing the tube to pop, too.  Fortunately, I was still with company, who were amazed that I was OK, and they helped me get my last good tube into the spare tire I carried.  Roland generously offered up a second spare tire in case I needed it later, and I had two good tubes awaiting me in my bag at Taylorsville, our next control. 

I get out of some soaking wet clothes and eat late breakfast at Taylorsville.  I’m tired, uncomfortable, a bit soft-headed, and worried about falling asleep again, so I decide to lie down on a cot in the “sleeping” area.  Unfortunately, it’s just too noisy, with most of it coming from the local 4-H volunteers and their parents.  The kids and other volunteers are fine helpers but after about 15 minutes lying down, I knew sleep here at that time was problematic, so I got dressed, got the gear I thought I would need until I got to the next bag drop in Susanville, and took off solo for the climb to Boulder Creek stop at Antelope Lake. 

The climb was longer than I remembered, but I got to Boulder Creek without further incident.  It was a joy to see my pal Ken Johnson enthusiastically ringing a cowbell at arriving randonneurs and providing whatever supplies needed.  When I checked in I realized I no longer had my brevet card, which set off alarm bells for me.  Ken, sensing the difficulties I was having with lack of sleep, offered me a beer and the bed in the motorhome, and he got in his SUV and drove back to Taylorsville to find my card, likely stashed in my drop bag in my wet jersey.  What a guy! I slept peaceably for an hour or so, and spent some quality time with Deb Ford, the roving photographer/SAG person, and friend-for-life.  Ken came back after over two hours with bad news that the Taylorsville control was closed and locked.  Time to press on, and hope I could persuade RBA Dan Shadoan to accept check in times on rosters as proof-of-passage.  It was now later in the afternoon, and, having slept just a bit, I rode through the beautiful forests on quiet roads along the top of the route, descending the noted and steep Janesville grade.  The rain was only light and occasional, just enough to keep the road and clothing wet. 

I got in to Susanville around 6:30 pm, had some dinner, and changed a few wet articles of clothes for dry ones.  It was a pleasure to see my friend Denny Burnham, who was just as attentive to me as Ken was at Boulder Creek.  My goal was to make the Adin control, but with 67 miles and a lot of climbing to get there, I wasn't sure it was possible on the 90 minutes of sleep I’d had to that point.  Denny knew what I wanted to do, but he didn’t mince words about the work it would take me to get there.  I decided to try for Adin, as I would have an easier ride on the inbound portion of the ride if I got there.

 

I left Susanville with several riders, but we didn't really hang together, due to varying speeds.  It was now dark, and the specter of a falling asleep on the bike again rose in my mind.  I managed to get to Eagle lake before caffeinated gum no longer worked.  I had to rest, but I was in the middle of nowhere, and it was still showering on and off.  No shelter was to be found, but I was definitely nodding off.  Finally, I just stopped, propped the bike, and lay down on the ground, and closed my eyes.  I felt very relaxed, and I may have slept for a few minutes before I got up, feeling a bit better (but cold, due to stopping), and my cycling got better.  About 30-45 min later, I did it again.  And then again. 

Finally, I got to a water stop at Grasshopper, basically a CDF parking lot with a rental truck staffed by some terrific and accommodating volunteers, who were serving hot noodles and coffee, and rotating sleep shifts in the back box of the truck.  It was just after midnight, and I decided to sleep in the truck.  While I scheduled about 2.5 hour sleep period, the disruptions by people getting in and out of the back made it such that I may have gotten 90 minutes of sleep.  I left at 3:30am, feeling pretty better, and looking forward to the better weather forecast for the coming day. 

The rain had stopped.  The road began to dry.  As daylight approached, the clouds began to break up, revealing spectacular skies and alpine views.  It was maybe the most beautiful portion of the ride, but it also may have been that I felt better, too.  I did get sleepy again, and cat-napped on the roadside as I’d done earlier.  It wasn't part of my original plan, but it did move me along. 

I had breakfast at Adin, a very small community, but moved on in order to make up some lost time.  My plan was to get back to Susanville and sleep in a hotel room for at least 4 hours, so I could finish without feeling so trashed.  Riding mostly solo, I rode at a decent pace, and moved ahead to where I’d caught up with some of the riders I’d encountered earlier. 

The Alturas control was staffed mostly by SFR volunteers, and I enjoyed some homemade lentil soup and fresh fruit salad, which I believe was prepared by a very caring Elaine Astrue.  I enjoyed the food and company, but I wanted to move on, and take advantage of the growing tailwind which blew us toward the Davis Creek control.

On the way out, I heard some chatter from riders about the distance to the turnaround, but the wind made hearing all difficult.  I did hear something about “41 miles,” so I thought we had a control after Davis Creek.  The tailwind was spectacular, moving us along quickly and effortlessly, and we quickly got to the stop.  I just filled the water bottle, and Patrick went for a quick bathroom break.  I told him he would catch me (he’s a strong rider), so I took off, heading North.  After a while I noticed I saw no returning riders, nor riders in front or behind me, and no SAG vehicles.  Time to check the cue sheet.  DAMN! Davis Creek WAS the turnaround!

A quick check of the road signs indicated I had traveled about 14 or so miles past the turnaround, and now I had turned my efforts to bank some time at the end of the day for a good night’s sleep in Susanville into naught.  Plus, I had to ride an extra 29 miles, half of in a tailwind, but the other half in a stiff headwind.  Plus, I had put getting back to the Alturas control before it closed in jeopardy.  I had to jam hard for 34 miles into a headwind to make the close!   

It turned out I made Alturas with time to spare, but my stupidity had cost me some burned matches in my efforts to make time, plus, I effectively lost two hours that could have been used for sleeping in Susanville!  I was pooped.  I had more of Elaine’s terrific soup, and Rob Hawks was very supportive toward me, sensing my despondency.   I didn't plan to give up, but Rob was reassuring nonetheless.  I got on the bike with a few of the others who were straggling a bit, and moved on to Adin, eventually struggling solo with the headwinds.  Bummer.

By Adin, it was around 7pm, and the winds had died down.  It would be another 67 miles of hills to Susanville, so I had some dinner and got out the night gear.  As the sun dropped, so did the temps.  I soon after put on the legwarmers and jackets, and steeled myself for the chilly descents, which took a while to get used to.  Nice thing about brisk air is it is easier to stay awake, and it didn’t take too long to get to Grasshopper.

I made it back to Grasshopper stop around 10pm, tired and now a bit chilled.  I had coffee and noodles, refilled Clif Bars and water bottles and pressed on.  Nothing but mountains between here and Susanville, and as the route went on, I noticed how easy it was to see things that weren’t really there.  The tar lines on the pavement looked like three-dimensional snakes, and tree lines appeared to look like buildings.  I later learned from other riders that they, too experienced these hallucinations.  I also had to pull over several times to sleep beside the road.  It wasn't wet like before, but it was cold (someone recorded a temp of 38 degrees in that section), so I didn't sleep but a few minutes. 

I got into Susanville around 3:30am, proud I had achieved my goal of getting there that night.  I wanted to climb up Janesville after sleeping, so I’d be less haggard than otherwise.  It was crowded, but subdued in the control, and I easily fell asleep on a cot.  There just wasn't enough time for a hotel room. 

I left Susanville around 6:30am, a bit more rested, and riding solo at an easy pace.  The morning was sunny and warm, and I enjoyed the scenery and tried to relax as I turned right, up Janesville Grade.  The road is immediately steep, around 12% grade, and it didn't take long to get a decent climbing rhythm going.  I passed a lot of people pushing their bikes, but I ride a low geared triple, and had no real difficulty, even in the steepest part.  The scenery at the top is beautiful, and soon I was descending toward Antelope Lake, and I got to the Boulder Creek control.  Good to see Ken and the gang again, and, though my mind was pretty foggy, I was pretty happy, knowing it was (almost) all downhill from there.   Ken rubbed my shoulders while we talked about the ride, and I could tell he knew I was going to get this ride completed. 

Down to Taylorsville for lunch.  This time the stop was still crowded but quieter, and there were some who were getting some sleep.  Eric Senter was the DBC member in charge, and everything was going smoothly.  I got a chance to learn about other happenings on the ride from Eric, including helping to devise a sling to hold up the head of a front rider who was suffering from Shermer’s neck.  Also, Deb Ford had come in and found my brevet card in my “stinky” drop bag, so I was able to use it for the remainder of the ride.  Thanks, Deb!

The ride down the canyon after lunch was not as fun as it could be, because it was hot, and there were headwinds, making progress slower than anticipated.  Despite coffee, I had to take another roadside nap or two on the way.  As I was about halfway down, Ken Johnson drove by and pulled over, getting me some ice water and he encouraged me to pour water over myself to keep cool.  It really helped!  I know this from previous rides, but it’s funny how one’s brain just isn’t terribly resourceful when you lack so much sleep. 

I finally got to Tobin around 4:30, not hungry, just wanting to sleep once more.  This wasn't my original plan, but, in light of the heat in the valley after Jarbo Gap, I was in no hurry to get to Oroville.  I decided it would be wiser to get a few quiet hours of sleep, and finish the ride at night/early morning, around 8am.  I got a small room in a cabin to myself, stripped naked, set my alarm for 7:30, and fell asleep within seconds. 

I awoke on my own about 6:15pm, a bit disappointed about that, but I got dressed and went to get some food.  In the eating area was Clyde Butt, also preparing to leave, and we thought it a good idea to ride together.  I was pretty sure I wouldn't need to sleep any more along the road, so this seemed like a good idea.  We left Tobin at an easy pace both of us with the idea that we would finish sometime between 7-9am on Friday.

We got to Oroville around 10:30(?)pm, and had more great food, and moved on.  We rode with Kevin Fitzpatrick and a few others on a off, and saw a lot of riders at the Sutter control.  There were a lot of bugs in the air, as the night air was still, warm, and humid from the irrigated rice fields in the vicinity.   Somewhere after Sutter I made a few navigational errors, costing Clyde and me an extra three miles in total, but Clyde was a good sport about it.  Along the long trudge of Reclamation road, the light of dawn was coming.  I felt slow and wooden.  My knees, arms, hands and butt were pretty sore.  At the turnoff to Kirkland Ranch, we agreed to get off the bikes and walk a few hundred feet, just to break up the monotony. 

The last control at Kirkland was beautiful, as the sun was just rising, but the mosquitoes were unbearable!  We wanted to lie down on some cots, but it was quickly apparent that wouldn't work.  We grabbed snacks and moved on, taking a detour along the Sacramento River levee road, as a reported sinkhole had closed part of Hwy 113. 

Somewhere near Woodland we were joined by Craig Moser, the rider who had waited for me on my first flat outbound near Knights Landing on Monday evening.  We also picked up Martin Meyer, who looked like he could use a pull.  I knew the way back, so I was pretty happy, but tired.  The conversation started to lighten just a few miles from the finish.  When we turned left from Road 29 to “F” Street, we were all very happy.  As we approached the Davis city limit sign, Craig took me up on a challenge, and promptly kicked my sorry ass.  I had it coming….

You’ll likely never hear me say this again, but when we pulled into the finish, it was so great to see my friend Darell Dickey cheering me in!  I just stopped, and gave him a big hug!  It made me a few minutes later than the others at check in, but I didn't care.  We were done!  Darell promptly handed me a beer, and loaded my bike, took me to his place to shower, and provided a darkened bedroom for me to sleep in so I could make the luncheon in only a few hours.  Thanks, Darell!

There’s more, but I would like to add a few critical items that don’t neatly weave into this long narrative without becoming even longer.  I learned a lot about riding a brevet of this type: 

1.       I can ride this distance.  Distance isn't the hard part, managing my time so I can sleep is the hard part. 

2.       Organization is my friend in preparing for rides of this distance.  I will have written lists of what to carry, and what goes in every drop bag.

3.       Reading and cue sheets.  I need to rely more on myself for navigation, and I need to read the cue sheets and take responsibility for where I’m going.

4.       Support.  This is the hardest endeavor I’ve ever undertaken, and it sounds cliché to say this, but it’s true – having great support, particularly the support of your friends who've volunteered to work the ride, and the friends you ride with, make a HUGE difference on a ride of this distance.  A hug from Deb, roadside ice water delivery on Hwy 70 from Ken, a great cup of coffee and frank advice from Denny, a warm smile and lentil soup from Elaine, an encouraging word from Eric, and riding long hours and sharing the experience with the likes of Clyde, Roland, Patrick, and others made this undertaking a renewing life experience for me.  I’m sure I've left some important people out of this, but I hope you understand what I mean. 

I plan to put this into place right away, as I’m registered for the Alaska Randonneer’s Big Wild Ride, starting in three weeks! 

March Madness

Each year the Davis Bike Club hosts March Madness. It is a fundraiser for area school kids who need helmets and generally safer cycling gear for riding their bikes.  DBC members register and pledge to ride a certain number of miles during the month of March. And then you see a helluva lot of people riding bikes in March around Davis!  Here is the link to MM info on the DBC site. 

Being new to the club, and looking to do some pretty serious miles in preparation for my summer, I registered and pledged to do 1000 miles.  That is a lot of miles, but I think I nearly did 1000 miles in February, so, while it seemed ambitious, it was not unlikely that I could do this.  I even ordered a March Madness Jersey, which will have the pledge miles emblazoned on the sleeve.  The photo of the jersey looks pretty cool:



 
I like the blue and orange themes, and I understand there has been an Alice in Wonderland motif going on for the last few years of MM, so it works for me.


March, as it turns out, was one of the wettest on record! It was difficult to schedule ride time around the seemingly constant rain. Additionally, Kathleen's daughter and my son Bryce came home for spring break, and we had a lot of activities together.  I managed to sneak in a few rides on half decent days. I even bought some lightweight fenders for my bike so I could ride in the rain and not get quite as soaked. 

I had about 900 or so miles by March 30, but had entered a long ride (called a permanent) on April 1st.  The last few days of March featured better weather, so I rode multiple days in a row without a day off, and got pretty tired.  I didn't want to be worn out for the longest (125 miles) ride I'd ever done to that point for the permanent on April 1st, but there was no way I was ready to ride 100 miles to make my pledged miles for MM, and and do the permanent the following day.  My cycling club buddies kidded me about claiming the permanent's miles on "March 32nd."  Hmmmmm....that is not adhering to the letter of the MM event, but, with all the unexpected rain we had....that was my intention to finish 1000 miles.....it is in keeping with the spirit of MM, right?....hmmmmm......OK!  I put my April 1st permanent mileage in my MM record...It is a kind of April Fool thing, in a mad way.  

So, having had some days to reflect on my "fudge," I don't really feel great about it, but it is difficult so early in my cycling experiences to know for sure what I could do in March.  Balancing work, family, and riding around bad weather was a challenge.  I vow that next year, I will do an extra 100 miles over my pledge amount to make up for it.  The Madness of March....

My Enthusiasm for Cycling Builds...

So after my first DBC ride with the Climbing Clinic, I started to look for others to ride with during the week.  I don't remember the exact sequence, but it may have been the next ride with DBC members when we went up Cardiac, a two-mile grade of something like 6% on Hwy 128 near Lake Berryessa.  I rode with John,  Linda and Russ on a Friday.  I got to know John and Linda pretty well, as we rode along together chatting along the way.

I learned a lot about group riding etiquette, including things like the leader is responsible for pointing out obstacles, potholes and broken pavement that might disrupt followers.  The rearmost rider typically calls out "car back" when a vehicle (car, truck or motorcycle, doesn't matter) is coming up on the group.  This way riders aren't surprised by approaching traffic, and we stay as safely to the right side of the road as is practical.

Linda, in particular, seemed a very experienced rider.  While she would often get out into the middle of the road to ride next to other riders (easier conversation and smoother pavement), she always seemed to get to the right before I was aware of traffic from behind.  She uses a rear-view mirror that mounts on her glasses frames, and they really seemed to help her monitor what was happening from behind.  I put that on my list of things to get soon.  She told me later that it has likely saved her bacon more than once.  Here is the Take a Look mirror:

http://www.teamestrogen.com/prodPP_100TAL.html

I bought one, and it works great.  I admit that mirror looks kind of dorky, but you can relax more when you ride.

We rode out from Winters, and while I had driven 128 many times, I was a bit apprehensive riding it on a bike.  Not just because of the hills (they aren't that steep), but sometimes this road has a lot of traffic, particularly on boating weekends, where pickups and wide boat trailers filled with partyers are wending their way to and from Berryessa.  This was a Friday morning ride, and there were 4 riders, which made us more visible than a single rider.  There is safety (perceived safety, anyway, I don't have evidence for this) in a group of riders.  If nothing else, you are more likely to have witnesses!

Turns out, traffic was light, and the ride was very enjoyable.  After we got up Cardiac, since it was a sunny and warm day, we decided to ride a bit further to Moskowites corner, at the junction of Hwys 121 and 128.
We stopped for snacks and drinks, and got a photo of us from a passerby.

Left to right: Russ, Drew, Linda, and John. We rode about 40 miles or so, which was the furthest I'd ridden to that point.  I was tired, but it was a good day!  Here is a link to the route taken:
http://maps.google.com/?q=http://share.abvio.com/d0b9/a677/4d24/49d3/Cyclemeter-Cycle-20110128-1005.kml

More another time.

Climbing Group pics from my first ride with DBC

First Climbing Group meeting for me in Winters Jan 23.  I am in red in LH side of photo. Leader Deb Ford is describing the ride up Steigler Road and Cantelow Road.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm first red jacket. We are rounding the first small grade up Allendale Rd.

Steady Eddys coffee house is where a lot of DBC rides conclude in Winters.  Nice company that day.  Good panini!

Getting on the Bike

I decided to start a blog mostly because I want a way to share my interests with whomever cares to read about them, so here goes...

I was a runner for almost 30 years.  There were some periods of my life where I didn't run, sometimes for many months, but mostly Iran pretty regularly.  It made me feel good, it was a somewhat solitary time that gave me some time for contemplation, and it kept me fit.  I started running by trying out for the cross-country team in high school, mostly because I wanted to get in shape for a ski team I hoped to join (but never did - too expensive), but also because I sucked at football! ;>)

At some point about five years ago, my left knee started to rebel.  I could run only a mile or so before it really hurt.  It feels like a tear of a tendon on the inside of my knee, but it only bothers me when I run.  I have never really pursued a full medical investigation of the issue, but I guess that it just didn't seem that important in the scheme of my life.  I've been busy with, and sharing the raising of a teenager whom I dearly love, but who has required a lot of my time and resources, so finding time for a suitable replacement for the positive things that running has given me has been both a challenge and a low priority. 

My son is now in a place in his life where things are pretty good, and I am in a stable relationship with a wonderful woman, and my career as a community college auto instructor is a good as I could ever hope for.  In other words, now is a good time for me to make some time for the benefits of fitness again.

In the past, I have occasionally done a bit of bike riding.  The town of Davis, where I live, features flat terrain, and it is a self-proclaimed "Bicycle Capital of the World," so getting on a bike for a pleasure ride is not uncommon.  I ride a few miles down a bike path on Russell Ave, turn around, come back.  I have seen a lot of others who seem a lot more serious about their cycling than I, all dressed in lycra shorts and colorful jerseys, with helmets, many of them riding quickly, and riding to places I don't know about.

On day last year I was talking to my neighbor, a somewhat more-experienced rider who rode out towards Winters, about 12 miles away.  He invited me out for some morning rides, and I really enjoyed them. This motivated me to buy some riding shorts, clipless pedals and shoes, helmet and jersey.  I began to ride a few times solo to Winters and back (25 miles!), and it was a lot of fun.  My rear hurt, however, so a went to my local bike shop (aka LBS) and got a nice saddle (not a seat) fitted, and that improved my comfort level a lot!

I probably rode about 200 miles or so last summer.  I had free time, and riding in warm weather is much easier to do than running.  I don't get covered with sweat, and the warm air does a lot to help me feel good. It does, however, take a lot more riding time to get an equivalent amount of a workout when compared to running. That seemed a real disadvantage, as I don't have time to do this, what with other activities and responsibilities on my plate.  Besides, when the autumn chill came, I got busier with school, and it seemed too cold to continue.

By winter of this year, I had gained more weight, and I didn't really feel that good.  I asked for, and received, some winter cycling gear.  It wasn't exactly a New Year's resolution, but I had to do something to feel better.  The idea of riding by myself when it was cold (mid-40s) didn't appeal much to me.  I looked on the web for the Davis Bike Club for membership and ride info:
http://davisbikeclub.org/

What I didn't want to do was find a bunch of 20-something guys who ride 60 miles a day at 24 mph pace.  What I did find was a "climbing group" whose objective was to take recreational cyclists who want to learn gradually how to do climbing, with a goal to climb up almost 4000 ft Mt. Diablo at the end of 8 weeks.  I emailed Deb Ford, the climbing group leader, and she was very encouraging.  I joined the DBC, and met up the next Sunday in Winters for my first ride with a group, and a chance to meet people with similar interests.

I had an absolute blast!  There were all types of riders, from rabbits to turtles, and mostly ordinary-looking folks who, like me, just enjoy riding bikes.  I knew no one when I showed up, and I made more acquaintances than I could remember in a single time. Riders rode a various paces, so I could find a group and stay with them, ride ahead, or fall back.  It was great to find out about all the new routes and places to ride, and they are all very close to home.

On this ride (Jan 23), we rode up Steigler and Cantelow Roads, which are now part of my riding repertoire.  Also, I'm too bad at climbing.  I rode mostly in the middle of the pack (about 40 participants), and I didn't have to work as hard as some riders to get up Cantelow, the steeper of the two climbs. Here is a link to my route:

http://j.mp/hwjFCD



Since that ride, I have been cycling with a vengeance.  I ride often by myself, but once or twice a week I ride with John and Linda, or Dean, or meet people while riding (Ron from nearby Dixon on my way up Cantelow).  
More later, and hopefully some photos to upload, too!