Sunday, November 6, 2011

Finally....Clark's Novel of His King Ridge Gran Fondo

So Christy has wanted me to write about the bike ride that I participated in a month ago in California.  I’m finally getting around to it, right on time.  First off, the best part about the ride wasn’t really the ride itself. The best part was getting to see some friends of mine, which I have known since high school, and I have not seen in over a decade.  Seeing Roque and Steve and their wives, Deena and Barb, was great.  We are all very fortunate to be doing well and all of us healthy.   I also got a chance to spend a couple hours with my Dad while in Cali.  It was good to see him doing so well at 86 years old.

The ride was great.  Sure the weather was not perfect and some of it was very challenging (actually quite difficult at parts) and we had some unfortunate luck at one point, but still, at the end, we all felt very good about the accomplishment.  We stayed at different hotels the night before the ride, Roque and Deena were at one place and I shared a room with Steve and Barb at another place (how lucky for them!!).   In the morning Barb and Deena dropped us off near to the start and we rode the last quarter mile to the starting line.  It was quite impressive. There were thousands of bikes and riders.  Some of bikes you could tell were very expensive (like thousands of dollars) and others looked to be 30 year-old cruisers.  Mostly, it was a lot of expensive bikes.  Spirits were high and the weather was nice.  Despite the crowd of people and equipment, the start was steady and uneventful.  Slow, but uneventful.  Eventually, we crossed the starting line and we were off.  We set off at an easy, comfortable pace.  Our plan was just to have fun and finish.   We were not racing.  It was a new experience for me.  I have ridden some in the past with friends (mostly with Roque and Steve and Gordon, another high school friend) but never with 1000’s of riders.  We were cruising at a good pace originally, near 20 mph, but it was not difficult to maintain with the crowd pulling us along.  We were doing well until the first hill.  Somehow I got separated from the others and I wasn’t sure if they were ahead of me or behind.  After slowing for awhile I decided to ride onto the first rest stop and reconnect with them there. We had decided we would stop at all the rest stops along the way.  We hooked up at the stop, no problem. We would get separated a few more times, but we would hook back up at each of the stops.  The stops were nice, they had lots of food, PB&J, lots of fruits, cookies, granola, energy food and drinks.  The fresh strawberries were especially delicious.

We hit the first climb right about at 31 miles, just after the second stop.  There was a sign that said, “17 hilly miles to next rest stop.”  “Hilly” was an understatement.  About 1500 vertical feet of ascent on roads with grades of 4-17%.  I would be riding along thinking the hill was about to end and saying to myself, “Just make it to the top of this hill” and then I would get to the top only to find it wasn’t the top and it kept going up.  Brutal.  But we were pumped and prepared for this first set of hills. Once we reached the next rest stop I was feeling pretty good about myself.  Unfortunately, my good spirit was about to change soon.  For one thing, the weather at the higher elevation was not quite as nice. The clouds had settled on the coastal mountains so everything above about 1100 feet was moist and cold.  Thanks to a good friend of mine at my work I had a riding vest and arm warmers that helped immensely.  Otherwise it would have been quite miserable.  The other disheartening realization that Roque revealed to me was that worst of the hills was yet to come.  I had a made a mental picture of the course and I believed we were at one location (the end of the first set of the big hills with only one more set of hills to go), when actually we were only half-way through the first set of hills.  We still had about 12 more miles and another 1000 foot of ascent with even steeper hills to get to where I thought we already were.  Initially, I was in disbelief.  We were at mile 44 and I was starting to feel it and now we had an extra 12 miles of hills I wasn’t mentally ready for. The chilly weather wasn’t helping.  But drive on we must, so we did.  I have to admit my morale was a little low at that point.

Before hitting the next hill there was a very treacherous downhill.  A 15-18% drop of wet road that took us to a valley between the coastal mountains heading to King Ridge (the summit of the ride).  At the base of the valley was a metal grate bridge over a river.  Metal road surface + water + skinny bicycle tires do not mix well.  There had been a crash at the site just before we got there (we had heard somebody was helicoptered out) and I understand why. The approach to the bridge was very steep and wet. They were requiring everyone to dismount and walk their bikes over the bridge.  It was all you could do just to stop your bike with the grade and wet brakes.  Just after we crossed the bridge a rider behind us could not stop and rode right into the group of riders on the bridge.  People and bikes were flying like bowling pins. Fortunately, no one was hurt.  We survived that adventure.

The next set of hills was very challenging. They were as steep, if not more so, than the last and seemed to be never ending.  As I mentioned above, I was not in the best frame of mind at the time.  I would climb a hill than make a hairpin turn going up only to find the road to be still climbing.  I would approach the crest of the hill only to find another hairpin turn going up more.  I really thought I was going to stop and walk the bike for a while.  But I didn’t.  I just kept telling myself just make it to the top of this hill.  Eventually we made it to the top, to King Ridge, and to the next stop.  The scenery was beautiful. Sure it was cold and wet and foggy and you couldn’t see the coast, but the foggy clouds over the distant mountain-tops were still a pretty awesome sight.  Our reception at the next stop, the lunch stop, could have been better.  The food and people were nice, but man was it cold and windy.  My stomach wasn’t feeling the greatest so I really wasn’t in the mood to eat, but I felt I had to eat something to survive the second half of the ride.  We huddle around a tent while eating to get out of the wind.  After probably too long we decided to leave.  The weather did not seem to be getting better so it was looking like it was going to be a long dismal wet ride.  The mist/rain had picked up making it harder to see and chilling you to the bone, especially when coasting into a strong breeze.  Had we known what was ahead we probably would have left the lunch stop a lot earlier. 

We had another set of very steep downhills  right after lunch. These were probably a little steeper than the first set of downhills, but not as bad because they weren’t quite as wet.  I have to admit, as brutal as the hills were I preferred them to the steep descent.  I was very nervous fearing I would crash and burn whenever we hit those steep downhills.  You can lose control very fast at 30 mph on a wet, steep, gravelly road.  I was pretty much riding the brakes down the whole way, hoping they wouldn’t fail.  But then, about 6 miles and 600 feet of descent later, a great thing happened.  The clouds disappeared, the temperature went up about 15 degrees and you could see about 20 miles up and down the beautiful pacific coast. It was awesome.  Suddenly my morale and my energy level surged.  We hit some other not as steep and very dry downhills along the coast where we were cruising at 30 or 35 mph and feeling good.  This was why we came.  It was a nice 15 miles of easy ride along the Pacific Coast Highway with perfect weather. The vest and arm warmers came off.  It was great. 

Soon enough we were at 75 miles and the next, and last, big hill, Coleman Valley Road.  This was the hill I feared.  Not because it was steeper or higher or longer than the other hills, but because it was at mile 75! Yeah, I was feeling the previous 75 miles and hills at this point.  I had my first (and thankfully only) fall at this point. Just as we started the ascent, as I was changing gears my chain came off. If I was a better rider (like Steve) I would have been able to get it back on with my shifters.  Unfortunately, I am not that good.  As my momentum slowed I started to lose my balance.  I tried to get my foot out of my clips, but with the mud (from walking around at the rest stops) they were stuck.  I knew I was going over so tucked my arm and prepared for impact.  I got a little scratched (and so did my iphone), but I survived.  The worst part was trying to get my shoes back in my clips as I was ascending the very steep hill.  Eventually I got it and I was off again.  The hill was challenging, but I knew it was the last big one so I pushed on.  As we got a little higher the clouds returned and the roads got a little wetter again. We made it to the top of Coleman Valley Road, about 900 feet of climb, to a brief water stop at the top.  I was very impressed by Roque at this point.  He was very strong up the hill and seemed to be cruising right along despite all the miles behind us.  There was one last stop at 82 miles then a flat cruise until the end, or so we thought.

Things were going great, the weather was good, the riding was easy and we could feel the end was near. Then, just as we were approaching a turn on one of the country roads, “Pop!”  Steve’s rear tire had blown. . . at mile 97! Just 6 miles to go.  No biggie, we changed the tire and about 15 minutes later we were off.  A little concerned, but moving again. We were concerned because Steve’s rear tire had a wear spot on it which had caused the blowout.  Steve had considered changing the tire before the ride and had even bought a new tire, but the tired looked okay so he decided to give it a go.  If only it was a 97 mile ride instead of 103!  So we’re moving along, again at good pace.  Now at mile 101, 2 miles to go, and “Pop!”  Not again, are you kidding us.  After a bit of grumbling and disbelief, we decided, let’s just change it out.  So, another 15 minutes and another tube later, we were off again.  The rest of the way went well and we crossed the finish line, somewhat unceremoniously.  Job well done.  After the last few setbacks and our casual pace during the ride, by the time we got to the post-ride festivities, most things were winding down.  We did get some of the paella, but we missed the beer (damn!).    Just as well, I first century ride but seeing old friends made it memorable.  Hopefully we can make this a regular event.  think we were ready to get back to the hotel, shower and get some real food.  Dinner was great and a nice end to a great day.

While parts of the ride were difficult or even a little miserable, I think it made the other parts that much more enjoyable.  The challenges, particularly the mental ones, made finishing the ride that much more of a significant achievement.  It was definitely an experience I will not forget.






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