6 posts tagged “ride report”
My second year riding in the Festa Foundation's annual charity century got off to an early start when my duty pager blasted me into consciousness shortly after 4AM this morning. I'm the nighttime on-call person for this week and a maintenance needed some assistance to wrap up. I helped out and laid back down, which was a mistake -- the problem was not actually fixed and I lost a precious half-hour of morning time laying there unable to sleep. When I got back up and checked in on things around 5, there were still problems so my egress to Bay Meadows was delayed going out the gate by about half an hour.
So things are getting somewhat better as I heal up. As you can see, I'm not quite so hamburger-ized this week:
Today started off much like any normal bike-commute Tuesday. Last week was Distance Week, which makes this Interval Week, so I was on the Della Santa and taking the San Tomas Expressway-to-Central Expressway route from Campbell to work in Palo Alto. I had tuned up my rear wheel over the weekend -- it has a spoke nipple that won't stay tight, which results in an annoying click when it loads and unloads in contact with the ground -- so I was paying special attention to how it was riding.
On vacation, I have been replacing my morning bike commute with some rides out to some of the scenic destinations here on Oahu, including my Tantalus loop the other day. Today was a typically lovely ride out to Makapuu Point. As soon as I turned out from my parents' house onto Kalanianaole, it started pouring rain on me, but I could see it was a blowing through pretty quickly so I kept rolling. Up past Hanauma Bay, the easterly winds were really knocking me around; combined with the still-wet road conditions I took it pretty slow down the descent towards Blowhole, where I stopped for a moment to snap a picture.
Past Sandy Beach, a few triathlon bikers were coming back and as we traded shakas I envied their downwind heading. There were quite a few folks teeing off at the Hawaii Kai Golf Course, undaunted by the gusts. The weather report said the winds were gusting to 20mph which seemed a little conservative as I turned to climb up from Kaloko Beach towards Makapu`u. I was tempted to keep going but I had gotten a late start and wanted to get back, so after snapping a few pics at the lookout point I turned and headed back home.
There's a saying I saw on somebody's forum sig a while back that sticks with me on days like today: "There's no such thing as a tailwind. Either it's blowing in your face or you're having a really good day." With that in mind, I was having an awesome day on the ride back to town! I zipped through Hawaii Kai and was blasting back along Kalanianaole when the day's only bit of mechanical drama manifested: accelerating from a stoplight, I shifted up the to the big chainring and derailed the chain right off! Fortunately I caught it on the right side crank arm and was able to finesse it back onto the gear without having to stop, which I was pretty happy about. The rest of the ride passed without incident and I was unable to reproduce the problem back in the garage, so I must have really cranked the shift lever over. I gave the outside limit screw a quarter turn just for safety's sake, rinsed the bike off and came inside to have a cup of coffee and write this up.
A guy could get used to this vacation stuff....
After the less-than-wonderful Strawberry Fields Forever ride back in May, I started looking around for another organized ride to do. A crew of folks on the Bikeforums NorCal forum were talking about the Giro di Peninsula and the timing worked out for me, so I signed up for the 100 mile route, which started out at 6:30 AM, Saturday June 30.
Per usual for the night before a big event, I didn't sleep very well. I did get up to the start point at the Bay Meadows horse track just after 6:30 and quickly met up with Ben, a cow-orker from Danger who I had coerced into coming, Henry (aka BlastRadius) who I'd done last year's NAHBS rallycat with, and the BFers who I'd never met in person. We set off through San Mateo to the first scenic section of the tour: Crystal Springs Reservoir and Cañada Road.
Up the first little hills on the way to the reservoir, I spotted an attractive orange bike up ahead and pulled up to take a closer look. No wonder it had caught my eye: it was the orange Della Santa I'd first seen in Shaw's a few months before, the elegant lines of which played no small part in my decision to make one of its brothers mine. I talked a bit with the owner, a very tall fellow who'd originally wanted a carbon fiber ride but, in talking to Terry Shaw, was amazed that "the guy seemed to have all day to talk me OUT of buying a bike!" He was however very happy with his DS and gave me great hope that when my bike's done it will be just right.
After a nice spin past the Reservoir and the water temple, we paused at the first rest stop for a cookie and a quick tool loan then set off for the climb up 84, with Henry and a BFer in a sweet Campagnolo jersey (whose name I missed) in the lead. The trip up 84 was tough but pleasant; Ben and some of the other guys pulled away pretty quickly, but I've learned my lesson about long rides and kept an eye on my HRM, went at my own pace, and ground up to Alice's Restaurant at a blazing 8mph.
Ben and another couple fellow sufferers (Ivan, I think?) were waiting at the top, putting warm layers back on. I foolishly declined to do so but instead set off directly on the descent down the back side of 84. Fast and fun, but after a few minutes os blasting through the still-slightly-foggy chill air, I hollered for Ben to hold up so I could zip into my long-sleeved jersey. The sweat I'd worked up on the climb quickly evaporated at 33 mph, leaving me goosefleshed and tooth-chattering.
Now nice and comfortable, I was able to relax into the rest of the lovely drop down through San Gregorio and into Pescadero. Unlike some downhills that seem to end way too quickly for the amount of effort they took to climb, this one was a nice long trip... but when it flattened out, I really started to miss the "beautiful downgrade", as Peter Murphy once said. Fortunately we were well within the main pack of riders and before too long a 10-member paceline caught up going just a mile or two faster than our pace, so it was easy to catch up and hang on. I wish I'd marked the jersey of the leader so I could thank him, but all I noticed was the insane definition in his calves as I stretched out on the hoods and held the pace all the way to the Stage Road rest stop.
I will attempt to skirt TMI territory here, but suffice it to say that the port-a-potties at the stop saw my backside twice before we headed out again. Aside from their welcome blue-and-white presence, the stop offered bananas, sandwiches, and these amazing oatmeal/krispie/chocolate chip confections that one volunteer claimed were some folks' main reason for doing the ride. Seems to me there must be an easier way to get one than a hundred-mile bike ride -- like kidnapping and interrogating a volunteer for the recipe, maybe -- but the treats were DAMN good.
I also ran into a couple of friends at the stop: Glenn and Patxi, who I'd ridden with on separate occasions up and around Skyline Blvd. Between those two and Ben, the trifecta of "people who kicked my ass while biking" was complete! With that happy thought in mind, it was time to head out for the toughest leg of the trip: the Tunitas Creek climb.
As Ben said at the outset, "it's deceptively friendly at first". And passing through a few small farms on fresh smooth blacktop, it was hard not to be deceived. Somebody had spraypainted on the right hand side of the road, "7 miles to top" and I marked the point on my odometer, certain I'd be counting each tenth-mile by the end. At about the five mile mark, the redwoods started filtering out the sunlight into gorgeous, angelic shafts. The forest was cool and shady and although the pavement quickly degenerated into a rough patchwork of hand-patches, it never felt unsafe -- then again, at 6 mph I could have rolled over logs without a problem!
The climb was indeed tough for the middle four miles, but suprisingly I never felt like I wasn't going to make it. I stopped once to down some Clif Shot Blox and peel off my outer layer. But otherwise I really enjoyed the climb -- a far cry from my humiliating experience walking up (then giving up and turning around on) Empire Grade in Felton during last year's Tour d'Organics.
At different parts on the climb I rode and chatted with Ben for a while; Glenn very briefly as he and another Tri stud zoomed past me; a guy who's mentoring a team to ride Seattle-Portland for the Lymphoma Society; my friend with the orange Della Santa again; and for the last part, after the grade had levelled out from Insane to Merely Steep, Ron, Lara, and Asia from BF. The conversation definitely helped the effort along, so if any of my companions are reading: THANK YOU! Sometimes a mental "pull" helps more than an aerodynamic one.
At the top we regrouped briefly, rehydrated from the cases of water kindly stationed at the top, and then started a wild, twisty descent down King's Mountain Road. Now, I've gone up this road before, on the trip where the aforementioned Patxi kicked my aforementioned butt, but had not descended it. Having done it both ways, I feel qualified to say I greatly prefer the descent! Tight turns, good pavement, and light traffic made for a ride so good I had to pick the bugs out of my teeth 'cause I was grinning all the way down.
At the bottom, my odometer read 53 miles, but my gas tank was reading Empty. When we got to the intersection at Cañada and Woodside, I bid farewell to my companions and headed back towards Crystal Springs and the endpoint. I probably could have done the second half, but I know my limits and I was starting to get some warning signs from my body that it wouldn't have been without consequences. So I joined the end of the 100K route instead, and followed the steady stream of cyclists going north into a newly-sprung headwind up Cañada Road.
Even abbreviated as it was, the last part of the ride was challenging. Fatigue combined with the wind to make the trip north an 18mph slog, eased only by my conversation with a fellow Brooks saddle aficionado with whom I traded pulls until I fell behind as the road turned upwards after the intersection with Hwy 92. Cruelly, too, Alameda de Las Pulgas has some rolling hills when it heads into downtown San Mateo and I cursed it as the first leg cramps I'd had all day began to twitch through my calves and quads. But I knew I was almost in and the prospect of pasta and protein was a powerful incentive to keep the cranks turning until the tawdry environs of the racetrack came back into view, just after I rolled over 72 miles on the odometer.
The meal did not disappoint. It wasn't exactly Buca di Beppo, but for feeding a thousand hungry mouths, you could do a lot worse (the Punahou Luau comes to mind immediately). Meatballs, italian sausage, tortellini in a passable pesto, a cup of oreo ice cream and a damn fine biscotti later I was feeling greatly restored. I thanked the volunteers on my way out, loaded my bike back into my borrowed Jetta, and headed back home.
In conclusion, I'm really happy that I challenged my limits without being foolish about it; I'm grateful for the social contact and friendly conversations that kept the day moving; most of all I'm psyched to have found a fun, safe, well-run event to add to the calendar for next year.
After fueling up on dates and bananas, Bjorn, Ian and I took off and got into the first real climbing of the day. Ian was getting over a bout of pneumonia (!) but, undeterred by pragmatism was riding a custom singlespeed road bike made for him by Jim Kish for one of the UBI semesters Kish teaches. Gorgeous ride, but 42x16 is tough sledding in the Santa Cruz hills even for healthy riders. I felt a bit bad about it, but I ditched my homies about five miles after the first stop and trucked onwards, solo.
Again, I'm not sure if this was a restructuring of the route but the third stop was only eight or so miles past lunch. Though the cider and blintzes at Gizditch Ranch looked appealing, I just downed a quick cup of coffee and kept rolling. Time was running short and I recalled that the big climb of the day, Mount Madonna, was between the third and fourth stop.
Except this year, there was no fourth stop, and no Mount Madonna either! The entirety of the climbing was already behind me and the rest of the ride was just a quick punch through the backroads (and, for the last five miles, the main drags) of Watsonville back to the high school. The most challenging part of the 100K ride, and my main motivation for doing it, was cut out entirely. What a letdown. I rolled into the high school, grabbed my t-shirt and met back up with Bjorn and Ian who had SAG'ed it back after lunch.
We were home by 3:30 and truly, I am looking for some different events for the rest of the season and next year because this ride went from my favorite to a big WHY BOTHER. I didn't see the route map for the 100 mile, but really it shouldn't be necessary to do the full century in order to get a good ride in, as the earlier years proved.
