Thursday, September 8, 2011

Paris-Brest-Paris 2011: Postscript

I've been back from France for a bit over a week now and taken a couple of my favorite bike rides.  I've started planning my fall cycling and looking at my goals for next season.  I feel fine and I think I'm pretty well  recovered from the 1230k ride in France.  I'm sleeping normal and my resting HR is getting back down to the normal zone. My perceived exertion vs speeds are telling me that I'm at 85 or 90% already.  The post grand randonnee blues have passed without incident and I've found my way back to work.  I'm making plans for fall bike racing and trying to decide what events I will focus on next season.  Next season's list gets shorter the more consideration I give it:  Leadville 100 mountain bike race and the Texas Time Trials as my season focus events.  Other things on the calendar are a full SR series, velodrome racing, the Fiesta Island TT series, and the California Triple Crown.  Already the season looks filled and this year is not close to over yet.  But that is good, it means my appetite for riding is still strong.

My first encounter with PBP was around 1987 back in Missouri.  We were out on a club ride and this dude was talking about PBP.  I remember asking if he meant Paris-Roubiax instead but he was very clear that it was Paris-Brest-Paris.  His description of the ride intrigued me and I filed it away in my memory for further study.  As various things came and went through the years cycling is always something that found it's way into my life.  A few years ago I had started bike commuting to work a few days a week.  One morning I boarded the train for my inter-modal commute and wound up sitting across from a gentleman that was quite interested in my bike.  We talked for a short time and I vaguely recall him mentioning something about randonneuring.  After a few days of research I had mentally committed myself to PBP in 2011 and started my preparations.  That was three years ago, in late 2008.

Paris-Brest-Paris is a jumble of disjointed controls and food and sleep in my mind.  I thought that after a little time a clearer picture of the ride would present itself but that doesn't seem to be happening.  Unlike the Rando Stampede in Texas where I rode with a group of people for the last days of the randonnee, in PBP I rode with an enormous variety of riders.  I think that because of that variety of riders I'm missing the mental anchor that links me to people and to specific events and to specific places.  From Texas I have the most vivid and specific remembrances of the entire ride; PBP not so many yet. 

PBP was a huge undertaking, as is any 1200k, and quite an accomplishment.  The ride will inform my cycling in some way for the rest of my life.  When people ask how the ride was, I inevitably first answer that "it was hard, really hard."  That is certainly a gross understatement.  At home a week later, I'm still not sure that I would commit the time and resources to do PBP again.  Perhaps as randonnesia completely sets in I will find my way to more fully romanticizing those four days on the bike in France.

Monday, June 6, 2011

PCH Randonneurs Corona 200k Brevet 6.4.2011

The day after a brevet is almost always up for grabs.  Sometimes I ride, but not very often.  Usually I prefer to do something other than cycling.  This morning I got up at the crack of 8am and went to yoga.  It was a good session although it did start out a little rough.  I wasn't sore, just a little stiff and it made the first half of the session sluggish.  I came around at the half way point and starting feeling a little more limber.  In the afternoon I walked down to the beach and finished reading Hell on Two Wheels.  I also took a nap.
Doheny State Beach looking towards Capistrano Beach

Saturday morning I had everything loaded up and ready so all I had to do was get in my car and drive out to Corona.  I left home about 0600 and got to Corona at about 0630.  As I was unloading my car I wondered what kind of ride I would take this morning.  Most of the time I take these brevets as social rides and ride along with a group.  I'm in decent form this season and had also been thinking about riding a hard 200k to just see how it things are progessing.

After getting geared up and the bike unloaded I took a quick spin around the parking lot where we were assembling for the ride.  I always do that to see if I'd boogered anything on the bike during transport.  The bike was fine and as I took my quick lap I decided that this I'd like to push my pace a little bit.  Terry Hutt, the event master, called a quick meeting at 0655 to go over a couple of particulars on the route and then set us free.

I figured that if I was going to make this a fast ride, I might as well go, so I took off right away.  As we climbed a slight grade over the 91 freeway I passed Willie Hunt, a 'bent rider, and said good morning.  I imagined that Willie would be good to go with me.  I didn't know who else might follow but I'd welcome the company for sure.  After the briefest time on public roadways we hit the SART (Santa Ana River Trail) where we'd be for about 30 miles.  The river trail has a pretty good surface and has a slight, slight grade towards the ocean.  With the typical on-shore breeze there is normally a head wind in our direction of travel as well.  We were early enough that I hoped we'd only experience the slighest breeze this morning.  I wanted to get to the coast and turned south where the traditional tailwind would then give us a nice boost down to San Clemente and control #3.

I pushed my pace for a long time, about an hour on SART seeing speeds in the 22-24  MPH range.  I scrupulously kept out of the red zone on my HRM staying below 164 BPM.  I could hear another bike behind me and assumed it to be Willie.  It was a cool morning which made working hard feel easier.  As we neared the coast we began to find the on shore breeze and Willie came around and asked if I was in a hurry.  I guess I was.  I had formulated a minor goal which was to arrive early at the first control.  Even with hauling ass on the river trial that would be no mean feat since we'd also have several miles of public roads to contend with near the control.  Around that time I realized that we had another rider along, Constantin Bancila, who came around shortly after Willie.  We continued in this fashion for the next few miles.  I managed to miss a turn off the trail but quickly noted the error and backtracked on course.  I reached the first control a couple of minutes after Willie and Constantin after being gapped at a stop light.  I managed to clock in at 0856 for a 0858 control opening time.  Success!

Constantin (foreground) & Willie
We messed around for 10 or 15 minutes before we got back on PCH headed south into a headwind.  Yup, unusual wind direction today as this would most often be a tailwind.  No problem, Willie on the front and Constantin and I swapping wheel #2 we made good time south bound generally running 20 MPH when we weren't stopped at a light.  The route took us down the Balboa Peninsula and back across to the mainland via the Balboa Ferry.  It had been years since I'd ridden the Balboa Ferry and it was fun.

Back on PCH in Newport Beach we kept heading south.  The sun came out between Newport and Laguna Beach and we stopped to have a quick nature break.  Working our way into Laguna Beach I got gapped off again at a stop light.  Many riders seem to fear riding through Laguna because PCH while four lanes wide is very narrow and has a steady row of parked cars.  For me there are two ways to ride Laguna.  The first is the conventional "take the lane" vehicular cycling method.   The second, and the one that I enjoy the most, is to car surf through the heavy traffic areas.  By that I mean you crank up your speed to match that of traffic and move along at automobile speeds in the lane taking advantage of the draft when ever you can.  I guess it is like an impromptu motor pacing session.  On a busy summer day the traffic speed is about 20 - 25 MPH in the most congested areas which is quite doable on a bicycle.  This day was not so congested so I simply took the lane as needed and moved on down the road.

Continuing south into Dana Point I could see Willie and Constantin a short distance ahead and knew we'd make the third control together.  After a 15 minute stop we got back on the road heading north.  We crossed paths with some southbound randonneurs just north of the control.  Back through Dana Point, heading north on PCH, I saw my wife Michelle and our neighbor Michelle walking our dog Koni heading home from the coffee shop.  The best I could come up with was a quick "Michelle, Michelle" as we sped by.

North edge of Dana Point
At the north end of Dana Point we pulled back onto the extensive complex of Orange County bike trails.  After a short time it became apparent that Constantin had either stopped or gotten lost.  We didn't see him again this day.  Willie and I rode the bike trail which is uphill for about 20 miles going from sea level to around 1500'.  The majority of the climbing is in the last 12 miles and this is one of my favorite routes for an inland training ride.  Just short of the high point in the route there was a control.  We found Terry Hutt waiting there with snacks and fresh water.  Since the cloud cover had cleared the day was warming up.  This was a really nice location for a control and resupply.  After another 15 minute stop we got back on the road.  I didn't see Willie again until the finish.  He owns Santiago Canyon on his 'bent.  I know how fast I traveled between control 4 and 5 and I can only imagine how quickly that same terrain would be covered on a 'bent.
Willie (foreground), Terry Hutt, control 4


At control 5 I stopped at the Subway and had a sandwich.  Up to this point I was quite happy with my ride.  Was looking at a nine hour ET for this brevet with about 7 1/2 hours riding time.


Wylie Coyote
Back on SART after a few miles of cross town riding, I got moving again.  Setting my pace at 22 MPH I gobbled up the trail easily still enjoying the speed.  As I peaked a small rise in the trail I saw a coyote jogging along the trail.  I think that I was approaching much quicker than he expected and it afforded a good picture opportunity.


I finished the ride at 1605 and found Willie talking to Jim Harris at the finish.  After a few minutes of hanging around at the finish shooting the breeze with Willie and Jim, I loaded up and drove home.

This was a outstanding day on the bicycle.  Willie and Constantin were fun and willing participants in a fast 200k.  Terry Hutt did a great job with the route and he routed us through some areas in my home turf that I seldom ride.  Jim Harris was at the finish as a volunteer and when I learned he lives in Palmdale that really clarified his level of commitment.  Thanks Jim and Terry!

PCH Corona 200k Ride Stats:
Distance: 209 km
Riding Speed Average: 27.5 km/h
Ascent 1304 m
Time 09:05 hh:mm

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Texas Rando Stampede 1238km May 2011

Prologue

When I saw a notice of this grand brevet winter 2010 I took note.  It looked like it would be scheduled just right; our local SR series would be complete and I'd still have plenty of time before PBP for recovery and to make adjustments to my brevet bike, equipment, and process.  It was to a be a full scale test run of the 1200k experience!  In retrospect it almost seems crazy.  It's like buying a Ferrari to see if you really want to buy a Ferrari.  I had already been deeply committed to PBP 2011.  Everyone I know knows I'd been preparing for PBP for the last two years.

For the month prior to the Stampede I'd been riding in winter weight gear no matter the conditions in an attempt to get some heat acclimation in before venturing to Texas.  I'd also been doing my usual yoga classes in heavy jerseys.  Where I live it doesn't really get all that hot until August or September and then it's only for a couple of weeks.  I could venture out to the nearest desert to ride on weekends, but this didn't seem like it would help my heat acclimation enough to be worth all the time involved.  In the couple weeks before the Stampede I saw temps in Texas reaching into the 90s and began to get concerned.  I hadn't really been heat acclimated since I moved to California from Missouri in 1996.  I remembered back in the day turning in some of my best, fastest rides in the horrible heat of the midwest summer so I know I could get used to heat and perform, but it was a matter of finding that heat and working out in it; not a simple matter at my current residence.

From some rides in the San Diego desert over the last two years I'd learned to deal with the heat in my own sub-optimized fashion by riding slow.  In the worst case scenario I knew I could do the same thing in Texas.  I had also learned to deal with cramps and how to continue to ride through them.  I was confident in my coping strategies.  The trade-off in the grand brevet would be sleep.  Ride slow in the heat, get less sleep.  Have to stop for cramps?  Get less sleep.  Everything in a 1200k could be expressed in terms of how much sleep it would cost.  Flat tire?  10 minutes sleep.  Hanging out at a Starbucks?  One hour of sleep.

Most things pointed towards sleeping less as part of the solution but sleeping less has it own limitations and I wanted to explore that in this ride.  Out in the work-a-day world I've found that if I get shorted on sleep for a couple of days straight, I begin to turn into a raging bastard which I seems incompatible with enjoying a nice long bike ride.  On a 600k, 90 minutes sleep with full days of riding on each side was completely doable for me.  On the 1200k, I was looking at the possibility of four days riding with 90 minutes sleep between each day is something quite a bit more intensive than the 600k experience.  I wasn't completely sure how I would perform under those conditions.

I flew into DFW on the Tuesday May 10th and was greeted by a cheerful volunteer named Becky Reily.  We loaded my bike and luggage into her SUV and passed the ride to Waxahachie talking about riding.  It was great to have transport pre-arranged from the airport to the start hotel and I just can't say thank you enough about that.  Becky, thank you again.

At the hotel, I monkeyed around assembling my bike and did a quick little test ride to make sure everything still worked.  After a brief pre-ride meeting we were all dismissed.  My roomie, Bob Hess of the great state of Tennesse, and I headed over to a nearby Chinese buffet place for a round of carbo and MSG loading.  A fitful night of sleep lead to a 0330 wakeup for the 0500 start.  I imagine that I slept three or four hours which seems to be my tradition before a long brevet.

I've stopped making ride plans for brevets.  It seems that the circumstances on the road are so variable that every plan needs to be modified.  Coming into this ride with that knowledge I had only three things in mind.
  1. Find some people to ride with.
  2. Endure day one and two no matter what happens.  Use day three to get back on a safe finishing time line if necessary.
  3. Finish no matter what.
The potential for hot weather aside, I knew that physically I was well prepared to ride this distance.

Day One 361 Km
After a light breakfast I re-checked my dropbag vs. saddle bag loading for the seventh time, zipped everything up and deposited myself outside the Hotel in readiness for the start.  The ride started right at 0500.  As my normal procedure I immediately jumped with the lead group.  I always like to roll out fast as dropping back to another group is a much easier option than having to speed up to catch a faster group.  This morning I was particularly motivated since stiff headwinds were predicted for the entire day and I did not want to push against the wind alone all day.  The group in the ball park of 30 riders moved quickly into the rural roads south of Waxahachie.  As the roads crossed the rolling terrain of the countryside the wind became more apparent.  The group provided a nervous respit from the wind and since we often found ourselves in quartering or cross winds we weren't able to fully realize the advantage of such a large group.  We would have had to run an echelon across the entire road to capitalize fully.  In spite of this I continued to roll along and enjoyed talking to a number of other riders.  The group slinkyed severely over the rolling terrain causing a scramble over the top of each little summit to stay in what little draft was available.  Each down hill the group bunched only to slinky again across the next summit.

Hiding from the wind behind Tim and Bob
After getting brake checked twice within a two mile stretch I decided that I wasn't having that much fun riding in that style and at mile 86.4, I looked at my cyclometer, sat up, and let them go.  I was feeling worked in the heat and humidity and rode the next 24 km into Gatesville on my own terms.  It was mid 80s and humid.  I spent many of those 24 km right on the edge of cramps and couldn't put down any significant power at all.  I went into spin mode and turned over an easy gear at low speeds, 12-15 MPH, with a 95 RPM cadence.  I've found through experience that the easy spinning would do a pretty good job at keeping me riding while keeping cramps from becoming serious.  In Gatesville I found another rider whose name I didn't catch, Tim Lucas, and Bob Hess.  I had the mother of all hamstring cramps as I dismounted my bike and almost found myself flailing around on the ground.  The cramp passed mercifully quick but was certainly intense.  I hoped this wasn't a sign of things to come.  After refueling and cooling off at a gas station, Tim, Bob and I headed back out towards Lampasas.  This was a long stretch of road and I found myself thinking about ways to get out of this ride as we beat into a howling wind.  After about four and a half hours of punishment we approached Lampasas in a light sprinkle.  I had started to recover but still didn't feel great.  Imagine our surprise at finding what seemed like the entirety of the brevet entrants huddled under the awning of Skinny's Fina, the control.  Everyone was holed up there waiting for a storm to pass.  It turned into a two hour delay for may riders.  Once again I refueled and waited with the rest of the field as riders continued to arrive and the storm rolled in.
Skinny's Fina.  Lots of bikers.

After everyone's weather radar apps had confirmed that the storms were moving away from the area the riders began to depart.  I imagine we resembled a bee hive migrating.  We arrived from "nowhere" en masse for reasons that only the hive understands and we left for "nowhere" for reasons only understood by the hive.  I'm sure they were somewhat relieved at Skinny's to see us go on our way.

The roads where wet and water was running deep along the curbing indicating a real gully-washer had been avoided.   Most people had donned rain gear because the temp had dropped significantly behind the storm front.  I continued working my way back to feeling good again.  I stopped to strip off my rain jacket as I'd fully warmed up again after a few miles.  In spite of the generous venting in my Showers Pass jacket I knew that without even cooler temps I would have a rain forest like atmosphere under the jacket in a short time.  Once again I had let the large group go and planned to ride solo until I found some compatible riders on the route.
After a couple of hours I found my way along the route to a convenience store where everyone seemed to be stopped.  I was starting to understand the distances between places to resupply where around 30-50 miles so I also stopped.  I was getting hungry and this little store had pizza by the slice.  I had a big piece of pepperoni and my traditional chocolate milk.  We were something like 186 miles into the day and the food was exactly what I needed.  I felt great after the food and rolled ahead of the big group.  The road to Jonestown control was the ideal form of rolling terain.  You could sprint down the hills and carry enough speed up the other side so that with a little stand up jamming avoid actually climbing the hills.  I do love this type of terrain.  I devoted years of my life to this type of riding and can make really good time in rolling terrain.  I was having fun again.  After a few miles of this the big group started catching up, but I wasn't really feeling like riding inside a big group.  I put the hammer down and stayed on the front until nearly Jonestown.

The Jonestown control was an interesting experience.  While the migrating hive arrived and milled around some local cops pulled up to find out what was going on.  One of the riders explained and the cops expressed a great deal of concern over us riding RR 1431.  As the sheriff said, someone gets killed along there every month.  They decided that they'd give us an escort.  That is what they did, in a Ramboesque sort of scene they escorted us right to the edge of town.  Just as we hit the city limits one of the deputies pulled up next to me and began to talk:
Do you know what you're heading into?
No sir.  What do you mean?
There's 60MPH winds, lightening, and 1/4" hail in Burnet County.
Do you know what that means?
No sir.
Burnet County is Marble Falls.  That is where you are heading.
Thank you sir.
As I continued a short distance the deputy's words started to resonate.  I could see big lightening and the clouds moving fast up ahead.  It started to rain a bit and I decided that there must be a better option than riding into an electrical storm.  As I rode up a slight grade I spotted a church on the right that appeared to have a nice covered patio on the side.  I pulled up and found a covered patio along with picnic tables to sleep on.  I left my bike parked with the Super Blinky on pointed towards the road in case any other riders were coming by looking for shelter.  In a few minutes Tim Lucas pulled in.  We spent about a half hour letting this storm blow over.  We saw hail along with some good gusty wind and rain.

We took off and found a beautiful night for riding.  The road to Marble Falls was completely empty and was easy riding.  After a couple of hours we rolled in the control 40 minutes after midnight.  The volunteers where great.  They took our bikes, organized our drop bags to be at our rooms and brought us food.  They even carried our bikes to the room if we wanted.  This was terrific after a long day on the road.  They had lasagna and spaghetti with bread and real Coke in bottles.  The food was wonderful and it was nice to sit on something that wasn't a bike.  I'd been on the road for about 19 hours.  I decided that I wanted three hours sleep which by time I got to my room, showered and loaded for the next day, meant getting a 0430 wake up call.  The room setup, which was included in the entry fee, was for double occupancy rooms.

Day Two 389 Km
At 0430 the phone in the motel room started ringing.  At first I didn't know what was making all the noise.  It was a phone but not my cell phone.  I finally figured out that it was my wake up call.  180 minutes sleep seems to go by very quickly.  My roomie was already up and out.  I started out slow and by time I'd had some breakfast and got ready to go it was 0515.  The control closing time was 0504 so I knew that I was cutting it close.  The big group had rolled out at 0500 and should be well ahead of me.  I took my bike to the parking lot and returned my drop bag to the volunteer's care.  All my bottles and CamelBak were full so I took off.  It was nice riding in the pre-dawn time and I felt good on the bike.  Not strong, just good.  My plan was to spend the day recovering from the day one heat and I would deal with the consequences of that choice on day three.  I also understood that because of the general delay due to the severe thunderstorms on day one everyone got a two hours of extra time at the intermediate controls, but would need to be back on the original time line at the overnight control in Sealy.  This would make for what I hoped would be a good solid recovery day.  It would turn into a very long day.

It seemed to take forever to cover the first 60k of the day to get to Dripping Springs.  Early, still in the dark I was coming down the narrow lanes we'd been on for a few miles and ahead I saw a crowd of reflective gear.  As I got closer I could make out a rider down on the ground with several standing in close.  My heart dropped as I began to think I was approaching the scene of an early morning crash.  Thank goodness as I got close it became apparent that it was just a flat repair.  They had it under control and I kept riding.  Dawn broke as I crossed between the small open fields of the Texas hill country.  I started running into swarms of tiny black flies.  They didn't bite and they died by the hundreds against my body as I rode on.  At the same time the road turned into gravel and I  enjoyed the change to loose gravel for a couple of miles.

I was making slow time and had stopped for a few minutes at the side of the road to have a bite to eat and wash off the flies as a group of two single bikes and a tandem came by.  As we wound through the roads heading to Dripping Springs I started to feel like we were zig-zagging back and forth in some diabolical attempt to lengthen the day.  Finally, and I do mean it felt like finally, we reached Dripping Springs Control.  The control had a Subway and convenience store.  I had a sandwich and a chocolate milk.  I also refilled my CamelBak with Gatoraide and picked up a couple of Fig Newton two packs for the road.  The other riders there at the time were Irene, Bill, Alain and Victoryia.  Everyone completed their preparations and as we went out to leave it became clear that a storm was coming through.  The clouds were low and moving fast.  Then the wind started.  As we debated whether to leave or not it started raining again.  We stepped inside to continue the debate.  Just then, lightening struck a utility pole across the street.  It was convincing display of mother nature's power and helped everyone to decide that staying in the Subway and remaining un-electrocuted seemed like a fine idea.  I got a nice  30 minute nap during this delay and I suspect some others did as well.

George Evans, who had been at the control for a while also asked if he could get us all change of address forms.  It was a good hint.  The major storm had passed and it was just raining lightly.  We moved on and found our way onto some small rural roads.  I really enjoyed riding in this section.   I started to get too warm with my rain jacket on so I stopped and removed it.   After a while on the road I started feeling hungry and popped a couple of gels to keep the machinery working until food was available.  Continuing on to Canyon Lake I stopped at an Exxon station where another rando bike was parked.  I gathered up some supplies and as I paid at the cash register the cashier smiled real big and said "another straggler!"  He told me a group had come through about and hour earlier.  I went over to a sub shop I saw across the parking lot and had a much needed meal of sub sandwich, chips, and soda.  From there to New Braunfels the roads were terrific.  I was riding solo at this point but nonetheless I was enjoying the ride.  Along the Guadalupe River, the route followed mildly rolling terrain and I'm certain that I had a tailwind as I was moving along at 22 to 24 miles/hour most of the way.  The road was over hung with trees and there were many little resorts along this stretch.  It is easy to picture how busy this little area would be in the heat of the summer as people escape from Austin to cool off with a weekend of tubing on the river.  A quick climb and a couple of miles and I found New Braunfels.  I reached the control at 1543, 43 minutes after the original closing time.  The delays were starting to add up and I had to get back on schedule by time I reached Sealy.  I really wanted to get a couple of hours in the bank by Sealy so I could sleep and avoid having to time trial day three.


The route between New Braunfels and Lockhart was a low point for me.  The roads were rough chip seal and the country side was wide open for the wind.  I had headwinds most of the way and resigned myself to just grinding these miles out.  I had hopped to catch some riders on the road but my pace was just not fast enough to make that happen.  I was also starting to have a saddle problems and getting sleepy.  It was a grim four or so hours.  Just outside of Lockhart Alain and Victoryia Abbate passed me on their tandem.  That energized me to get to the control so I could eat and maybe have a wheel to follow for some miles after the control.  When I arrived at the control there were a number of randos milling around.  There were a few 'bents just leaving as we pulled up as well as a couple of other bikes.  I gulped down a Whatachicken and most of an extra large fries then got outside to see what was happening with my saddle. 
See the lip in the center of the saddle?
After field surgery lip gone
What I found was that a lip had formed in the center of the saddle.  It had become an ass-hatchet.  No wonder I was so uncomfortable.  I dug a pocket knife out of my tool kit and field modified the saddle to find some relief.  Since I've been back, according to Selle An Antomica what I witnessed on my saddle does happen on occasion and they prescribe exactly what I did as the solution. 

The Abbats rolled out a few minutes ahead of me.  I didn't know if they were going to run easy or hammer down and I didn't want to risk missing the train.  I dropped into TT mode determined to catch them as quickly as possible.  After a few short minutes I saw them ahead and could tell they were in cruise mode so I let up to conserve my legs figuring I'd probably need them later.

As we rode along on almost empty roads the Abbats on their tandem, me on my solo bike we talked and passed the miles.  Time passed quickly through this section of the and I enjoyed their company.  As typical on brevets at times we'd be separated by some few minutes on the road only to reconverge a short time later.  At one point another rider had passed us who was making good time.  I marked this rider as another potential companion and as a taillight to watch to help with navigation.  At one point shortly after dark after the light ahead that had been out there about a mile it seemed to have disappeared.  We wondered where they had gone and finally assumed that they just put the hammer down and rode away from us.  The section from Lockhart to La Grange was 94k long with nice rolling roads and as good a surface as I'd noticed any place on the ride.   There were plenty of deer to spot on the roadside in addition to the running conversation.  As we approached La Grange we came upon a couple of 'bents on the shoulder of the roadway with tire trouble.  After stopping briefly to see if any help was needed we moved down the road a couple more miles into La Grange.

In La Grange we found the Whataburger control closed with a couple of other riders already there.  In addition, some reconnoitering around town revealed everything closed at this time of night; even the gas stations and convenience stores.  We had another 88 km to go before reaching the overnight control in Sealy and I was already getting hungry.  I had 6 gels and 2 Clif Bars on the bike with me and enough water to get me through to overnight at the pace we'd been riding.  I figured we had about four hours riding time ahead of us and my food stocks might be just enough to keep me from bonking.  We learned that a sag crew had been dispatched from Sealy bringing food and water to Lockhart control for the riders arriving through the rest of the night.  We decided to hangout until the volunteers arrived.  They brought fix'ns for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches along with water.  I had two PBJ sandwiches thanked the volunteers and Alain and Victoryia and I were off for Sealy.

The road was dark, dark, dark headed to Sealy.  I don't recall seeing a single car in that 88 km.  I used my helmet mounted headlamp to spot deer and other critters along the road and talked as we rode.  Someplace just past Frelsburg we all started getting very sleepy.  We had seen the SAG wagon on the road and flagged them down at the first oppurtunity to inquire if they knew anyplace warm to catch a quick nap.  There was a post office in New Ulm just a few miles ahead so we made for it.  When we found the post office, we rolled our bikes in and crashed out on the very comfortable tile floor.  While it wasn't heated inside it was sheltered and felt pretty good.  Some time later, and I really don't know how long, I was awakened by the sound of a car in the parking lot outside.  Startled, I woke Alain and Victoryia.  We slowly got ourselves together and ventured outside to continue the ride.  I was completely disoriented and had it not been for Victoryia navigating with a GPS I would have had a devil of a time getting back on course.  It seemed to take forever to warm up on the bike.  There were no significant hills and riding faster didn't seem like a great solution either.  My teeth chattered for five or ten minutes before I finally started making enough heat to warm up.  In the early morning, this was a Thursday, we passed a waste hauler, school bus, and newspaper delivery all out and starting their day's runs.  As The sun came up we got see the sky go through shades of blue from midnight, to indigo, to sky blue as the sun fully emerged.

We arrived at the overnight control in Sealy at 0702.  The cutoff time was 1013 so I was happy that I'd started getting a time cushion.  Breakfast was being served for the departing riders and I welcomed the eggs and biscuits with sausage gravy.  I dashed to the room, showered and got in bed for a quick hour and a half slumber.  I got up around 0930 to start day three, the day I'd targeted as my make up day with a plan to ride as hard as necessary to build a few hour time buffer.



  
Day Three 251 Km
I walked out of the hotel in Sealy around 1000 hours.  The control would close at 1013.  I had 13 minutes in the bank heading out the door.  The sun was bright and I could tell we would get some heat on this fine day.  This was the beginning of day three.  Going into this 1200k ride I had decided that I'd let the first two days unfold however they unfolded.  If I was behind the clock today was going to be a make up session in the Texas House of Pain.  If I was on time it would be an easy day.  Fortunately day two in spite of the late arrival at the overnight had been a good recovery day for me.  I felt as good as anyone operating on four and half hours sleep over the last two days and this day looked like it would be an easy day.   I left the control solo and as I rode along I decided that I'd find some riders on the road to pass the day and miles.  Following the route sheet, I worked my way north and east of Sealy following the residential rural roads.  I could see some bikes up ahead and knew that I could slowly reel them in.  I passed a rider stopped in the middle of the road making some adjustments.  A few miles later I came upon a group of three recumbents parked on the road having a discussion.  I said good morning and kept riding.  I was in an easy cruise mode working against the wind but not killing myself.  As the road stair stepped north then east then north again the relative wind switched from direct headwinds to cross winds and back again.  It was starting to warm up and I had carried two frame mounted bottles specifically for spraying to cool off.  That in combination with my torso, arm and leg coolers seemed to be doing a pretty good job of keeping me comfortable.  I had also been riding with a 3L CamelBak, a new addition to my gear for this ride.  As the town of Waller came into sight I started thinking about whether I wanted to stop and what I might want if I did stop.  I wanted an ice cream bar.

Staying on route I rode through Waller looking for the Hagen Das ice cream stand.  It seems they didn't have one.  I backtracked a short distance to a Shell station as the nearest possible substitute.  As I pulled in the three recumbents were also just arriving.  I did find an ice cream bar and it was delicious.  The store keeper was generous with their ice and allowed us to fill bottles and CamelBaks with ice.  The 'bent crew invited me to ride with them if I'd like and I was happy to do that.  We departed the Shell station and headed for the control in Magnolia that was still maybe 50km away.  The route headed through residential neighborhoods and rural routes.  Riding and talking to my new friends, Peggy Petty, Sara Kay Carrel, and Daniel Schaaf made the 50km pass quickly and in no time we were in the chaos of Magnolia.

It seems that a number of major roads connect through Magnolia so the intersection you are presented with upon entering town looks like a mess from a cyclists perspective.  After a quick discussion about where we wanted to eat the three 'bents headed for McDonald's and I headed to Sonic for a Cherry Lime Aid.  I then crossed to McDs to join them for lunch.  It was a leisurely stop and we had arrived three hours to the good.  The Cherry Lime Aid really hit the spot and I was surprised to learn that Daniel had not only heard of Dana Point CA, he knows exactly where it is.

Getting back on the road after a short back track we turned north and almost immediately entered Sam Houston National Forest.  The road rolled through big conifers and the change was almost startling when compared to the Scrub Oak and rock terrain we'd seen around Marble Falls or the open farm country around Lockhart and La Grange.  We rode and talked and rode and talked holding a respectable pace but not trying to kill anyone in the group.  I eventually realized in spite of the enormous amount of water I'd been carrying it seemed likely that I'd run out before the next control.  I let everyone know to keep an eye out for a water spigot.  After quite some time we came upon a church and I refilled from the spigot on the side of the building.  It was in the mid 90s this day which was much warmer than anything I had ridden in this year.  Keeping hydrated was critical to stave off cramps or those other heat related problems that can crop up.

It took us about five hours to reach the next control, a truck stop in Huntsville.  As we pulled in we found Tim Lucas sitting outside the Subway.  Since he was solo, I encouraged him to hang out while we messed around in the control and then ride on with us to Crockett.  We had fun at the control in Huntsville wise cracking and burping.  We were all in good spirits and knew that we'd make the overnight at a reasonable time without having to kill ourselves on the pace.  After a leisurely stop we got organized and back on the road.

Leaving Huntsville just after dark we got into a paceline with Sara Kay on the front and the adrenalin from high speed traffic passing at our elbows took over.  We motored pretty hard to get back to the peaceful rural roads that we'd been experiencing for the last two days.  Once back to the country side we all sat up and looked around to make sure we were all there and switched on the cruise control.  Once again riding and talking through the night the miles passed with incredible rapidity.  At some point we picked up a couple of more riders who'd seen our lights coming down the road and waited for us.  Right around the little town of Weldon a car came by with the passenger yelling something out the window.  Daniel and I were on the front riding and talking and we basically ignored them assuming them to be another fan.  After a while I noticed that my mirror was clear of headlights.  When I brought this up to Daniel we had one of those "oh crap did we ride off course moments."  After stopping for a few moments we saw lights coming.  As the other riders arrived they raved about a treat whose name I can't recall that they got in Weldon.  It turns out that yelling passenger was in a SAG car out on the course handing out treats.  I managed to finagle one of these treats away from Sara Kay.  It was delicious.

It seems that between Lovelady and Crocket we started up a long grade that stair stepped.  We'd climb for a while then hit a flat, then climb for a while then hit a flat.  It was cool in the evening and the climb felt good to me.  I could tell that Sara Kay was feeling just fine as well and we had a little climbing contest.  Neither of us was going to crack on so shallow a grade so a truce was derived.  Sara Kay did take the summit some time later, however, I contest that win, but not her ability to win, since I didn't know we were still racing.

We arrived at the Crocket overnight at 0055.  We were a full eight hours to the good at this point.  After much discussion about "time off the bike" we got down to a 0400 departure time.  I split to my room ate, showered and hit the sack.  The next thing I know there is an incredibly loud noise in my room.  Then again.  Someone was banging on my door.  Stumbled out of bed and opened the door.  It was a volunteer come to roll my lazy ass out of bed.
How long will it take you to get ready?
Uh...
 I look around the room.  It looked like the DEA had tossed it, cycling gear everywhere.  I tried to comprehend how this mess happened.
 I'm not packed.
How long will it take you to get ready?
Ten minutes!
I may have left a thing or two in that room.  I haven't missed anything yet though.  It was tough packing whilst kick myself in the ass the entire time.  I was just thankful that the crew had waited.  I hustled down to the lobby feeling quite sheepish and mercifully didn't have to endure too much punishment.

Day Four 237 Km
Once out on the road the day started looking fine.  Tim Lucas found the strength of ten men and went flying off the front as soon as we got out of town.  Daniel and I jumped and hung with him and we were really moving up some shallow grades and rollers in the pre-dawn.  After ten or fifteen kilometers of this we let up as the sun came up.  Once again I felt good and it seemed that everyone else did as well.  We got back into our mode which was to ride and talk, talk and ride, holding a moderate pace and enjoying the company.  After 65km we reached the next control which would be our breakfast stop.  At the McDs in Palestine we had breakfast in the usual fashion for this crew: talking, laughing, speculating and generally having a good time.  The day was windy and cool and it was a toss up for me to decide whether to put my rain jacket on or not.  I decided to roll without it and then a couple of miles down the road I stopped to put it on.  I got back with the group pretty quickly and we rode along starting to see other bikes on the road.  As the sun was fully up I started to get a little warm and stopped to remove my rain jacket.  I took my time and had a nature break taking in the mid morning in Texas.  As I got back on the road I decided to see just how much fuel I had left in the tank.  I got into a full TT mode in pursuit of the crew maybe five minutes ahead down the road.  I set my HR at 163 and just cranked.  The hard effort was enjoyable.  As approached the crew I saw Daniel riding with a giant in a day glow green vest.  As I passed them, headed for Sara Kay and Peggy a 1/4 mile up the road, I thought about what a disadvantage it would be to be so big in the headwinds we'd been seeing.

Palestine to Corsicana was 101km, 55km of which was on dead straight road into the wind.  We got organized into a paceline and just rode.   Peggy was happy to do most of the pulling through that stretch.  Other riders came and went on this stretch but the core 5 person crew hung together.  We also picked up another giant on the road: Bill Olsen.  Bill was so big I thought I could probably sit up and eat a bowl of Rice Krispies while coasting in his draft.  
Study in contrast: Bill Olsen and Sara Kay

It was so windy you couldn't really talk easily so we just rode.  About 15km outside the control I started to feel a bit sleepy and eventually pulled off for a 60 second micro nap while still clipped in with one foot.  I was amazed how refreshed I felt after this little nap.  I got back on the road and found my way to the control in Corsicana within a couple of km.

The control was a busy place with randonneurs all over.  I had some food and some drink and got ready for the remaining stretch into Waxahachie.  We took off after about a half hour and had about five hours in the bank with 71km left to go.  After working our way through Corsicana we got on the wide but irregularly shouldered TX-22.  After a few miles I started getting sleepy again and soon realized that falling asleep on the bike could put a real crimp in my plan of finishing this ride.  At Barry, TX Tim Lucas and I pulled off into a little city park next to the post office for a half hour nap.  Tim and I both set alarms on our phones and Tim called his wife to ask her to call in a half hour just to make sure we wouldn't sleep too long.  We had the good fortune to be awakened by the town wake up mutt after 25 minutes.

Tim and I got organized and back on the road.  That little half hour nap really revived us.  Once back out on the route I found the strength of ten men and dropped the hammer.  We gobbled up an eight kilometer stretch in no time at all.

As I sat up, Tim found the strength of ten men and dropped the hammer.  We clicked off another 8 km stretch, Tim on the front.  At that point we had plenty of time and not much distance so we just turned on the cruise control.   We came to a small town, Avalon, and stopped at a market for some cold refreshments.  I had an Orange Fanta in a bottle which I haven't seen in years and it was delicious.  Tim called his wife Susan to insure that she'd have our medicine iced down when we got to Waxahachie.  Back on the road it was an easy ride into the finish.


Tim and I at the Finish
Postscript: Life After my First 1200k Brevet
Returning to day to day life after a long ride is always somewhat of a shock.  It has been a week since I finished the Stampede.  Initially it seemed odd to be so still.  After four intense days of ride, eat, sleep, repeat, the rhythm of the days seems to have vanished.  Just sitting in a chair with no need to jump back on the bike and pedal like hell to get to the next overnight seems so easy.  Sleeping until I awake seems so easy.  Everything seems easy.


The sensory load of cycling is gone as well.  On the bike, everything is alive.  You smell the fields and the trees.  You see everything, even things that aren't really there.  The feeling of riding, the road, even the chip seal surface is missing.  The feeling of being down on the handle bars forearms on the tops hands on the hoods in a TT position smooth pedal strokes flexing the frame and wheels slightly at 100 RPM; watching the tenths of miles ticking away as I monitor my heart rate making sure I stay off the redline is missing.  The sounds of bikes on the road is absent.  The rapid fire click of gears changing as the group rolls across a summit preparing to bomb down the other side is missing.  As the road rolls up the clatter from more gear changes as we all downshift into the grade to work another climb is gone.  The tastes of the road, ice cream and gator aide, McDonalds food and Whataburger are like bargain gourmet meals and are memories.  The shared experience with good riders and new friends is complete and I will have to go out and ride a some more brevets with my friends here to get that feeling back.

I went into this ride knowing that I was physically prepared to do the ride in the allotted time.  But there was no absolute certainty in finishing in my mind.  1238 km is an enormous distance to cover on a bicycle and many things can happen.  I didn't know how I'd perform with the lack of sleep that would come with the 1200km.  I estimate that I slept eight hours total over the course of four days.  It turns out that it wasn't that much of a problem.  I was mentally prepared to nap on the road as needed and that did surely come to pass.  I slept in a city park, a post office, and a Subway.  I wasn't certain how my ride mechanics and ergonomics would hold up to this test.  I had a couple of minor issues and what I learned is that I'll never ignore anything again on a ride this long.  If something doesn't feel right at 750 km it will probably be agony by 1150 km.

The Stampede has left me confident for PBP in August.  I will arrive in France with confidence that I can cover the distance in the time allowed in good form.  I'll make a few adjustments to my ride ergonomics and replace a couple of things that I didn't appreciate as the distance tallied up.  I've got 13 weeks between now and PBP.

I arrived in Texas knowing no one.  I had the good fortune to ride with some really nice people and make some new friends out on the road.  The volunteers were fantastic and devoted making our ride efficient and fun.  The route was wonderful.   Texas is quite a scenic state.  The organization fantastic across three randonneuring clubs as we moved from area to area.  The weather?  Well the weather reminds me of the oft quoted Nietzsche: "What does not destroy me, makes me stronger."

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Stampede 1200k rollout

O'dark 30. Ready to ride.
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Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Fortune cookie tells the tale.

I don't know how this relates to my 1200k ride. Hopefully it will become apparent when the ride starts.

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The meeting room.

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weather forecast from Waxahachie.

Break in the heat in exchange for thunderstorms. I'll take it.
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Monday, May 9, 2011

Estelle packed safely in a Trico Sports hard case.


Wheels one layer above the frame and with every thing protected by foam. After decades of using cardboard boxes this seems bourgeois.
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Estelle packed safely in a Trico Sports hard case.

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I added the google latitude widget...

so my friends could easily see where I am during the Rando Stampede 1200k.  Assuming the cell phone battery holds up.

Todo for Rando Stampede 1200k









Stream of consciousness over the last week before leaving for my first 1200k.  I do love lists.  They keep me out of trouble sometimes.  Saved here in case I like it.  I can use it for PBP as well.
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Todo list for Rando Stampede 1200k

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Sunday, April 17, 2011

PBP Pre-registration Complete

I was able to pre-register for PBP this afternoon based on having completed a 600k last year.  My number is US-1977.  I've had the good fortune this season to have completed the PCH Randos Orange County SR series so in terms of meeting the requirements:  I'm in!

There is still that little thing of riding the Rando Stampede 1200k in May.  I'm looking at the Rando Stampede as a full scale test run for PBP.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

OC PCH 600k - The Big One 4/2/2011

Bikes waiting for the Triathlon to end.
Oswaldo and I had just finished a five star bicycle breakfast.  I had a T-street (T-street is a local surf break) omlette, hash browns, and toast.  We split a short stack and had many rounds of coffee.  Fifty miles into a 375 mile brevet we were eating like kings.  At the southern boundary of San Clemente we had encountered the complete and absolute closure of the bike trail system that goes between San Clemente and Oceanside because of a triathalon.  After exploring a couple of options and understanding that the trail would likely be closed until noon, we decided the best solution would be to kill a few hours and have a nice big breakfast.  I think of it as "the civilized way" to handle the situation.  Just before 1100 we headed back over to the trail closure site to watch the race.  They were just opening the trail to public use again so we jumped on and started heading south.  Oswaldo had called Willie (the ride master) to let him know we were delayed by a nominal three hours in case we ran into time problems later.  We reached the control in Oceanside by 1200 easily beating control cutoff of 1248.

I had planned to finish the first leg of the 600k by 2300 to 0100, a nominal 18 hour 380k.  I would clean up, eat, and head out without sleeping with my plan being to catch a first nap at the entrance to Carbon Canyon and nap as needed through the remainder of the day on Sunday.  Of course the closure completely broke that plan.

After a short trip down the San Luis Rey bike trail we connected to Sleeping Indian, the first bit of challenging road.  I've never ridden up Sleeping Indian but have enjoyed many descents down it.  I felt fine and the climb passed without incident.  We worked our way up hill to Fallbrook where we had a quick lunch at the slowest Taco Bell on earth.  Knowing that the real work was coming up shortly we moved right along and got into Sandia Creek Rd.  Once again I really enjoyed riding through that area.  I felt pretty thoroughly worked by the time we got to Rancho California Rd.  Once at Rancho California, I realized that a howling south wind was blowing and would become a tailwind for our trip north to Loma Linda.  We made quick time on this north bound leg, not working hard at all yet enjoying a high cruising speed.  On the rare occasions that we had to turn cross wind or even slightly into the wind it made me very happy to be headed north.  One of the nicest sections of road we were on in this north bound leg was Leon Rd.  It was dirt, there was little traffic and the landscape was austere and beautiful.  We continued making good time through lake Lakeview and on past Lake Perris.
Leon Rd.  You can see the grass being blown down by the howling wind.

At the Vallero just before the Ramona Expressway,  we saw the Sato's tandem and Matt O'Neill.  They found us at the control in Moreno Valley.  On the 400k I had found that the burrito I ate there didn't agree with me.  I stuck with Frapuchino, chocolate milk and Gatorade cocktail that has worked for a long time.  The grade up Redlands Blvd was much shorter than last time and the downhill run to the Loma Linda control was fantastic fun.

We had some food at Quiznos where Matt O'Niell and the Sato's encountered us again.  After a brief meal and rest Oswaldo and I departed finding Ed Shepard a short distance from the SART entrance.  Ed was looking good and riding strong.  We found expected headwinds on the trail and just hunkered down and pedaled.  Upper SART at night is much easier for me to take and the time on the trail passed quickly.  We encountered the Klines just before the dirt section of upper SART.  The four of us navigated the little Norco section of the route together and met again at the Corona control.  I had the Frapuchino, chocolate milk, and Gatorade cocktail along with some tasty potato chips.

Back on the SART we began encountering stronger headwinds and it was starting to wear on me.  I knew we hadn't far to go and just sucked it up till we reached Tustin Ave.  At this point, I should have identified that I was under-fueled but I didn't and instead of grabbing some more to eat at a convenience store I kept riding.  The distance from SART to the info control in Santiago Canyon seemed much, much further than it was in reality.

At the info control I chugged some H2O, and ate an energy bar that Willie had cached there.  That proved to be insufficient and the last few miles up Santiago Canyon were tough.  We were traveling in the direction that I normally  ride the canyon but I was too impatient.  I kept looking for the welcome to Lake Forest sign that marks the summit of the last climb and the beginning of a nice downhill resting section.  By the third false summit I had made up my mind to quit and decided to ride directly to my car, get in and drive home.  I also planned on how I could sell my Rando Stampede entry, get rid of the Waterford, and buy a nice comfy smoking jacket.

At the overnight control I was glad to be there.  As we walked in I recall Ruth asking me if I was going to ride straight through.  My answer was something to the effect that I couldn't ride on because my brain wasn't working correctly.  I ate, cleaned up, changed into my 2nd day riding gear and found a spot to sleep.  I slept for about 1:40 and woke up just before 0500.  After a few moments of getting my head into the game I had a quick breakfast suited up and jumped on the bike.  The terrain was familiar and downhill all the way to Newport Beach.  I had left the overnight control riding solo as Oswaldo had made plans to leave much later in the day.  My plan was to find some other riders out on the road to pass the day.  In Newport I saw Rita Garcia and Ruth Cabre.  I soft pedal for miles on SART waiting for them to catch up.  They never did.  I stopped at a picnic table to eat a Cutie and call a dinner request in at home (rib-eye, baked potato, and something else).  Eventually, Rita and and fellow who's name I didn't catch came by.  I packed up shortly after that and took off.  I flatted just shy of Carbon Canyon and was stopped to replace the tire when the two of them passed me again!  I finally found them near the summit of Carbon Canyon and maintained contact to the Chino Hills control.

The ride from Chino Hills to Irwindale was surprising to me.  I had looked at that area on maps thinking about linking Carbon Canyon and Turnbull Canyon as part of a permanent.  I hadn't because I thought it would be an urban hell of stoplights and bad roads.  That couldn't be further from the reality.  Grand is modern roadway with minimal stoplights.  It was a good route across town. 

 After a quick stop in Irwindale, Rita and I headed out to the SGRT.  The trail entrance crosses the Sante Fe Dam.  I'd never been on the Santa Fe Dam and I was surprised by the size of the structure.  It would appear that the San Gabriel River has a lot of potential based on the size of the dam.

Working the horses along the SGRT
The toughest part of the ride was coming up.  30 miles of flat San Gabriel River Trail into a howling onshore wind.  To say it was tough just about covers it.  Rita and I rode on and on and on watching the stupid mileage countdown painted on the trail reminding us of just how long it was taking to cover a 1/4 mile.  All along the trail there were little equestrian homes.  Everyone seemed to be out working with their horses.  It makes for a constantly changing backdrop to the trail and helped to have something to watch.  Finally Seal Beach started to come into sight and we reeled in the River's End Cafe.  I had a terrific plate of fish tacos, beans and rice along with coffee and water.  Out on the trail I had become sleepy on a couple of occasions and hoped to stave off sleep with the coffee until I could get home that evening.

Heading south out of Seal Beach we caught a much needed tailwind.  It made the ride down to Newport Beach easy running at a point where we really appreciated it.  The Chevron control in Newport was empty when we arrived but since we had three hours before the last control closed and 15  or 20 miles to ride we were taking our time.  Slowly other groups started to arrive, the Klines, Oswaldo, Ruth and Peter, the Satos and Matt O'Neill.  We ate a bunch of Hagen Das ice cream bars and headed for the finish.

Distance: 603 km
Riding Speed Average: 22.2 km/h
Ascent: 4596 m
Time: 39:00

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Orange County 300k

The start.  About 20 riders.
Everyone comes into a brevet with a different set of expectations and goals.  I always try to keep those two things lined up with my current level of fitness, rest and course difficulty.  For this 300k, I was still sticking to my early season training.  That meant keeping my HR well below my lactate threshold and not even thinking about my finishing time or even setting a goal for finishing time.  Planning to take it easy and actually doing it are sometimes two different things.  When we bombed down the San Diego Creek Trail to Newport Back Bay I've found the combination of the slight downhill grade and the early morning lack of an on-shore breeze can make for some nice high speed runs to the coast.  This day I resisted and cruised along at around 30 km/h.  Later on the route heading up the Santa Ana River Trail a scraggly looking paceline of randonneurs passed me and I again resisted the temptation to jump on.  Some people might call it sandbagging, I think of it as pacing myself.

We rolled out a couple of minutes after 0600.  I had been busy in the convenience store that shares space in the Ralphs parking so I didn't have a chance for the usual pre-ride talk with friends.  As we climbed out over Glenn Ranch, Saddleback Ranch, and then Santiago Canyon I started to warm up.  With the early departure we didn't get to see much of the sunrise from the Canyon.  The fishermen were up and out in force on the Irvine Lake and the vapor over the lake made me a feel a chill.  I've spent many, many chilly mornings at trout streams watching the vapor rise as the sun rise begins warming the day.  This day I'd left my fishing gear at home and kept on peddling.  Willie Hunt met us at the top of the last grade on Santiago Canyon to sign our brevets so we could pass on the convenience store control just a mile down the road if we didn't need anything.  The ride west to Newport and then north to Santa Ana River Trail (SART) was pleasant and uneventful.

As I started inland on SART I hoped I'd find the beauty of the river trail.  It is sort of a bicycle freeway from the beach to the mountains.  It's not the esthetics of the trail I find uninteresting.  I just find the riding a bit monotonous, which is saying something when you consider that as a native of Illinois, I have ridden all over that great flat state and enjoyed it.  This day I amused myself by biker watching.  There was a steady stream of coast bound riders to keep my attention.  The detour on SART just inland of Gypsum Canyon was very nice.   I do hope they decide to leave the trail as detoured running next to the golf course rather than close, within 20 yards for quite a ways, to the 91 as it was originally paved.

At the fourth control I found the paceline that had rolled by on SART departing and another group trickled in as I left.  Molly and Jerry Cook were part of the group.  It wouldn't be the last time that we'd run into one another through the day.  The route through Corona was new to me and I found it entirely pleasant to be up in residential areas on nice wide empty streets rather than hugging the freeway below.  After a brief wrong turn adding a couple of kilometers to my day I ran into Molly and Jerry again.  Navigating according to the route sheet we were eventually dumped out onto Temescal Canyon for the hop down to Lake Elsinore.  Two things really caught my attention on Temescal Canyon.  The first was an enormous dog that had been hit and was still laying in the road.  The second was "Skull Canyon Eco-Experience."  I wondered if the pioneers who settled the area actually named it Skull Canyon or if this was a commercial enterprise's vision of the best marketable name.

As I rode south, paralleling the 15 at some distance, I stopped at a Circle K to top up my bottles and buy some food.  We were heading to Clinton Kieth Road and following it east across the Santa Rosa Plateau into territory with few services.  At the Circle K, Molly and Jerry arrived moments after me and then to my surprise Kelly DeBore, Jaime Gurolla, and a fellow I've not met pulled in to fuel up.  Kelly, Jaime and crew were out riding the Toughrider 200k permanent.  I was surprised to see Kelly and Jaime because, according to my navigational devices, we were located approximately 15 miles due west of the middle of nowhere.

Clinton Keith Road was a good warm up for the coming terrain.  After about 6 or 8 km of steady climbing at 6 to 8% the grades came down to a more gentle 2-3%.  The climb, although shorter, reminded me a good bit of San Julian Road out of Lompoc.

The Santa Rosa Plateau is a unique ecosystem.  Primarily a basalt formation from volcanic eruptions eons ago the Plateau's grass lands and Scrub Oak are quite striking after the dirt and rock landscape of the 15 corridor.  At 2000 feet elevation it must be much cooler in the summer than the Temecula Valley below.  On this day the temps were perfect which makes hard work much easier.  After crossing the plateau a sign sets the tone for the next 10 or 12 miles.

It says "GRADE" not "GRADES".  The grades were innumerable.
Dropping off the plateau on a bombing run that drops 700 or so feet at 20%+ grades is spectacular.  This was one of the few descents where I've drug my brakes for almost it's entirety.  The terrain that followed was almost surreal.  I would not have been surprised to find a Rolls Royce Cabriolet full of cabbages or a clocks dripping from trees.  To prepare for paving hills sides are usually cut and hill tops chopped off to reduce the grade.  Not here.  These roads have been layered on top of the terrain as is and where is.  I can only imagine the task involved in paving this type of terrain and the vision required to hike or fly across the hills and picture paved roads in place of game trails and farm roads.  Riding through here was sublime.  The roads were terrible, cracked and potholed, and the grades were impossible.  To describe the roads as rolling is to understate their nature.  To me rolling hills implies that a rhythm of give a take can be found with the terrain.  Riding in Missouri is like that.  This terrain is mostly take, with occasional downhills that will make your eyes water.  The pitches are so steep that no rhythm can be found.  You are not in control here.  The surfaces; they were rough farm road paving jobs.  There's hardly any point in striving for perfect surfaces in a place like this.  If I saw 10 vehicles after from Avocado Mesa Road  to DeLuz road at Fallbrook I'd be surprised.  You have to ride these roads and pay attention.  This was some of the best, most enjoyable riding I've had since leaving the midwest in '96.  To see the terrain we crossed I've attached a google map link in terrain mode.  You can clearly see where the route climbs up to the plateau and then drops off heading south to Fallbrook.

The last bit of wild terrain is south of Fallbrook.  We rode Olive Hill to Burma and Sleeping Indian out to N. River Road.  I was reminded of the last time I had been on Sleeping Indian:
As I climbed up the last little grade before the big descent to the river I could see a rider up ahead at the side of the road.  As I approached she asked if there were any more hills up ahead.  I could see another rider stopped at the top of the hill.  I had to tell the truth:  it's all hills in that area.  I don't know what they decided to do.

I got to Oceanside just before dark and started north towards Rancho Santa Margarita (RSM).  Riding the 5 always has a traffic generated tailwind.  At Las Pulgas road it was dark, dark, dark.  All the way through to San Onofre I had the only mobile light.  At Christianitos Road, Molly and Jerry caught me as I was scanning the route sheet.  I wanted to see where the last 20 miles of the route lay.  From Dana Point we turned well inland and headed to and up Margarite Parkway.  I can't recall ever riding Margarite all the way up to RSM.  There are some pretty decent grades on that road.  I started getting that "I'm not having any fun" feeling which means I need to eat.  I popped a gel as Molly and Jerry passed and I started feeling better almost immediately.  The ride started to be fun again.

I want to thank Willie Hunt for putting together a fantastic route.  It was challenging but I never felt cheated which is quite an achievement.  I also want to thank Patricia for cooking tortellini and spaghetti with a choice of marinara and basil dressing.  It was delicious.

OC 300k Ride Stats:
Distance: 312 km
Riding Speed Average: 23.0 km/h
Ascent 2910 m
Time 15:20 hh:mm

Sunday, January 16, 2011

One Flat Three Times, Then Another: San Diego Randonneurs Rainbow 200k

Rainbow 200k rider's meeting

I had just come off a 77 km/h down hill that was interrupted by a stoplight.  A half mile later I started feeling the familiar squirm of a soft tire.  I was someplace in the San Marcos area and I wanted to find a nice grassy spot to pull over and take care of the tire.  The flat wouldn't wait so I stopped on a grassy hillside next to a freeway interchange.
Flat repair #1
It was plenty safe but noisy.  I pulled the wheel, stripped off the tire and began a search around the tire for the cause of the flat.  Strangely I couldn't find anything stuck in the tire.  Knowing full well these things, tubes, don't generally let the air out of themselves I looked again.  No luck.  I inflated the tube but I couldn't hear or feel the leak.  Humph.  I decided to swap in a virgin tube that would at least get me to a quiet area so I could work.  Back on the road, I made it another mile and as the rear end of the bike went squishy again I pulled off at on a equestrian trail and went back to work.  I still couldn't find anything in the tire but I found and patched the hole in the tube.  I always put my tires on with the label aligned with the valve stem so I have a reference for tire repair.
Flat repair #2

I couldn't find anything stuck in the tire.  I had also forgotten which way the tube was oriented in the tire, you've got two choices you know, so I wasn't sure which position on the tire, about 60 degrees away from the valve stem, held the hidden object that was causing the flat.  I suspected it was a tire wire, one of those fine steel wires from a steel belted radial blowout.  Those will go through any bike tire and can be devilishly hard to find.  I put the tube back in hoping the patch being thicker than a tube would hold off the tire wire and put a boot in the position on the opposite side of the valve stem.   Back on the road and riding with the sensitivity of the princess in the Princess and the Pea I found the tire slowly flatting as I rolled into control #3.  It was good there.  Jaime had brought a tire pump along and I made use of it and found and repaired another small hole.  I still couldn't find anything stuck in the tire.  At this point it occurred to me that I might actually DNF a 200k because I'd either run out of tubes or patches which I found a little funny.  I also strained a quadriceps kicking myself in the ass for not carrying a spare tire along.  Did I mention that I had noticed that the rear tire was corded in a couple places?  That gave me some pause and I considered swapping it to the front to conserve it for the remainder of the ride and to make future repairs more appealing.  Front tires have glacial wear rates, however wear at the rear is easily discernible, particularly if you are doing a lot of climbing.  I decided to let things be and moved on.  From the control I headed over to the AM/PM where I ran directly into on of those aggregate concrete waste receptacles because I'd forgotten to close the quick release on my rear brake after installing the wheel.  If you've seen me on the road recently, you'll know that I'm riding a beautiful Waterford that is pretty new.  I ride my bikes pretty hard so I knew Estelle (the Waterford) would begin to show some wear.
I think that'll buff out.

I just wasn't expecting the "wear" to happen so soon in such an inauspicious manner: a collision with trash can in broad daylight, completely sober!  I recovered and after mentally letting out one of Jerry Stiller's "serenity NOW!" screams I went in to the AM/PM, got my Gatorade, filled my bottles, and took off.

The climbs up Old Castle, Lilac, Crouser, and Rice were enjoyable and uneventful: the tire held through it all.   I really enjoyed bombing down the backside of Crouser.  The water in the road was no sweat, it just added to my enjoyment of a technical descent.  Really.

At control four Tom and Tina  Reynolds where there with soup and homemade bread.  A few other riders were milling around as was my buddy John Hillard who had somehow wandered into the area but wasn't riding the 200k that day.
John, Jesus of the Control.

The soup was a treat that I enjoyed but I had been thinking about a tuna salad sandwich on the flat road into Rainbow so I satisfied that urge and gulped a chocolate milk and a V8 while I was at it.  The tire was still holding, two patches and a boot so I didn't mess with it and rolled out. 

As I rolled down Live Oak Park Rd.  I began noticing that squishy tire feeling and pulled off into a nice wide driveway to make repairs.  Upon disassembling the tire I located another small hole in the tube and patched it.  It was real close to the others but far enough away that I suspect this was a completely new flat.  Once again a search of the tire had revealed nothing!  I had noted the proper orientation of the tube relative to the tire so I knew with certainty where to place the boot.

Flat repair #4

I did meet the owner of the driveway who was coming out to enjoy the day and have a nice relaxing session of weed whacking.  He was quite generous but was fresh out of 700x28 Vittoria Rubino Pro Tech tires so I moved on.

I made a stop at the 7-11 at Vandegrift and N. River Rd which is somewhat of a tradition with me.  Once a couple of years ago I bonked on the bike trail headed towards Oceanside.  That was a much harder faster ride then than the Rainbow 200k yesterday but it was a lesson learned.  Since that time I almost always stop there to fuel up after emerging from the back country.

The ride down the coast from Oceanside was better than usual.  There was the prevailing tailwind and I ran into Dion Dyer just south of Carlsbad.  Dion was in more of a hurry than I and he eventually pulled ahead.  I always enjoy these last few miles of a brevet and try not to hurry though them.  It's a time when I can savour the end of the ride.  I went up the outside at Torrey Pines (per the route sheet), which I hadn't done in many trips south.  Traffic was light and the grade seemed a bit flat after riding the inside for so long.   The tire made it to the end and when I looked this afternoon was still holding air.

I met my goal for this ride which was to take it easy and to make what is a pretty challenging route a piece of cake.  Holding my heart rate under 151 except for the rarest of occasions was the center piece of that plan.  My scale up for this season is off to a fine start.  A couple of 300k brevets are coming right up and I am really looking forward to them.

Rainbow 200 Ride Stats:
Distance: 195 km
Riding Speed Average: 21.9 km/h
Ascent 2210 m
Time 10:59 hh:mm

Ride Volunteers: Thank you!
Start line - Robert Leone, Dennis Stryker
San Elijo/Elfin Forest - Osvaldo Colavin
Deer Springs Road Control - Jaime Gurrola
Rainbow Control - Tom & Tina Reynolds
SAG - Guy Laronche
Finish Line - Tim Sullivan, Dennis Stryker