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!
