600K

It was Friday evening, April 20, 2012.  I said to "heck" with my diet.  I was going to have me a big plate of whole-wheat spaghetti and a side of garden salad sprinkled with texturized vegetable protein (still pretty healthy, though).  Why?  Because the following day (and the day after), I was going to embark upon the biggest contiguous bike ride I would have ever attempted (thus far): The Solana Beach 600km Brevet.

I stuffed my tummy with carbohydrates.  I then attempted to go to bed early, because I would need to get up at 2am the following morning to drive over to Solana Beach for a 4am start.  The ride had a 40-hour time limit, but involved three loops of about 125 miles each (375 miles).  I had a room reserved at the Holiday Inn Express (the origin point of all three loops), so that I could sleep when desired.  I had a LONG bike ride ahead of me!

I got about 4 hours of sleep.  Not bad, but I really needed more.  I loaded my bike into the truck, and drove to Solana Beach.  I got there with plenty of time to spare, so I unloaded my bike and got all ready for the day's ride.

Loop 1

I learned an important lesson when starting the ride:  Don't try to condense route sheets onto a small piece of paper.  I had the route sheet clipped onto my handlebars, but because it was a VERY LONG RIDE I had condensed the route sheet to fit onto as few pages as possible.  The problem with this approach was that I could not read the route sheet in the dark, even with my helmet lamp on.  Fortunately, I was riding with the rest of the field that day (only about 8 of us), so I just rode with the group until daybreak.

As I descended Cole Grade road, I noticed my rear wheel kept wobbling against the brakes.  And the problem was that Cole Grade road was a steep--and long--descent, so I had to brake pretty hard on a lot of the turns.  Eventually, my rear brakes started to fail (and started to sound like sandpaper), so I stopped to check.  My rear rims were hot as a stove!  I burned my fingers just touching them!  With all that heat buildup, I was in danger of a blowout.  Clearly, there was some problem with my rear wheel.  It was certainly out-of-true.  So from this point forward, I knew I could not really use my rear brakes much.  I would need to use mostly my front brakes (and a lot people argue I should anyways; I typically use both).  This was going to make for a very nervous remaining 325 miles.

I arrived at the first Control just outside of Rincon.  It was at mile 65.  But because I had such a big dinner the prior night, I was able to make it that entire distance, and I really was not that hungry.  So I ate a few candy bars, used the disgusting bathrooms that were there, and started the 5 mile climb to the base of Mount Palomar (on Highway 76).

The climb was not too bad (especially in comparison to Mulholland the weekend before).  But once I got over to Mesa Grande, I got pretty tired.  I think I was a little dehydrated, and was running out of fluids.  Fortunately, the next control was only 10 miles away.

At Don's Market in Santa Ysabel, I sat and ate some protein bars and drank lots of fluids.  I chatted a bit with my fellow cyclists.  We then hit the road and started our return towards the coast, through Ramona.  I was getting pretty tired, so I didn't try to keep up with them.  I was getting pissed off with the headwind coming off of the coast, especially on the 56 Bike Path.  Plus it was kind-of hot that day.  But once I got within about 2 miles of the coast, I was underneath clouds, and the weather all of a sudden became chilly.  But I wasn't going to put my warmers back on; I was just going to keep riding.  After the control at the AM/PM, I rode over to Del Mar, and then to Solana Beach for the finish of the first loop.

Loop 2


Before starting the second loop, I checked in at the motel (well, I just got my room key).  I then started the second loop straightaway, because for some strange reason I was craving McDonald's!  And apparently, so were my fellow cyclists, because most of them were there!  So I mac'ed on a Big Mac, fries and soda, and relaxed for a bit before starting the second loop.  I was feeling pretty good and confident at this point.  Little did I know what was coming later that day.

I had a nice ramble through Carmel Valley and Torrey Highlands, but when I got to the Purple Monster (Scripps Poway Parkway to 67), I got tired again.  I climbed at a snail pace, and then just relaxed on the descent to Lakeside.  When I got into Lakeside, I stopped at a 7-Eleven, and had me a cookie-ice cream sandwich and a regular coke.  Hey, I deserved a little treat!!  I then rode through El Cajon out to Dehesa Road, and thought about how nice it would be to take a small detour and visit my dear friends Gloria and Jon, who both lived in El Cajon.  But I was on a tight schedule, and there were strict rules regarding going off course on brevets.  So I stayed on course.

I got onto Dehesa Road, and a bird shit on me!!!  Right on my riding gloves!!  Gross!  From now on, I'm calling this road Bird Shit Lane.

Other than the bird poop, the road was actually rather nice.  It was a nice ramble through the shady trees, out in the countryside.  The climb started, and I was doing just fine and feeling good.  It must have been that chocolate chip ice cream cookie.

But then, the climb just went on forever.  It took an eternity to get to Japatul Road.  Memories (or were they nightmares) of the Alpine Challenge were coming back to me.  I finally got to Japatul Road.

I had a nice descent.  But there's a rule in cycling that says, "What goes down, must come up."  I had about 12 miles to get to Lyons Valley Road.  And it was just endless climbing.  I was getting tired.  I started whining.  And then I started getting pissed off.  And then I started beating up on myself.  I said I could not take it anymore.  I wanted to stop.  I wanted to quit.  I was running out of food and water.  And I was out in the middle of nowhere.  I thought about calling someone to come get me, because I really had enough at that point.  But I wasn't sure I had a cell phone signal out there.

I FINALLY got to Lyons Valley Road, and answered the question on my brevet card.  I turned onto Lyons Valley Road, and saw mountains ahead.  GREAT!  How much more climbing did I have NOW!!!  The road started to descend, but I just told myself it would go back up again.  The road kept descending.  It then turned into a technical descent.  I decided to refrain from pedaling, and let gravity pull me, even if it meant going slower.  I didn't care; I needed the rest.  The road just kept descending.  And descending.  And descending.  That . . . made me happy.  And my goodness, I did not realize how high up I had climbed earlier!

The sky got dark, and I turned my lights on.  I had never been in this part of San Diego County, and I did not know what was around me.  I was in the middle of nowhere.  I desperately wanted to get out of here and back to civilization, which was some 30 miles away.  I was tired and hungry.  The darkness enshrouded me.  Another climb came up.  I was in this dark, dense forest, all alone.  I imagined an axe murderer jumping out of the trees and hacking me to death.  I was all alone in this darkness, not knowing what stood between me and the comforting city lights.

I turned onto Honey Springs Road.  There was a large mountain in front of me.  Even worse, I saw vehicle lights high up on that mountain.  GREAT!  We had to climb that mountain.  I was so fed up.  I got off of my bike and said, "I can't do this!  This is ridiculous!"  I angrily finished off one of my water bottles, and downed an energy bar, took a piss, and with frustration, got back on my bike and started climbing.

Fortunately, that's not where the road went.  The road had just a little bit of a climb.  Then a descent.

And it continued to descend.

And it continued to descend.

And it CONTINUED to descend.

Now I was happy.

But the descent seemed to go on forever.

I started getting cold.  I didn't have my warmers on.  I was starting to get tired of the descent.  But it went on forever.

DANG!  That's how high I climbed earlier that day?!

When is descent going to end??

After an eternity, after a cold descent in the pitch darkness, all by myself, down the lonely Honey Springs Road, I finally arrived at State Route 94, with a quick jog onto Otay Lakes Road.  Whew!  Only about 12 miles now to get to civilization.  And I was familiar with this road!

I decided to stop at the Thousands Trails Campground store, to put my warmers on.  And at the store, were 3 of my fellow cyclists!  I could NOT believe I caught up to them, as I was sure they were WAY far ahead of me.  And they are stronger riders.  But it sure was comforting to meet up with them again.  I didn't ride out with them, though, I stayed back a bit, and then rode out.

It's really disgusting when you put on leg warmers over bare, sticky, sweaty legs covered with bug corpses!

I had a nice ride around Otay Lake.  I then got into Eastlake, and then Chula Vista, and I got grumpy because I was getting hungry and desperately wanted some "real food".  (Yes, I wanted McDonald's again.  And that's unusual for me because I usually try to stay as far away as possible from food like that, but I guess I was craving lots of calories and lots of comfort food.)

I turned onto Main Street in Chula Vista, hoping for a fast food joint that I could use as my Control.  I was disappointed and VERY pissed off when I didn't find one, and ended up having to backtrack to go to another crummy AM/PM and buy yet another energy bar.  But I asked the store owner, and he directed me to the nearest fast food place 2 blocks off of Main Street, which just pissed me off even more!

I got to McDonald's, and ordered an Angus cheeseburger meal.  I was so tired and annoyed.  And the hamburger just made me ill.  I got back on my bike, sleepy and annoyed, and rode back to the exact point at which I veered from the route (per brevet rules), and continued the official route.

The rest of the ride that evening was not too bad, but I was sleepy and grumpy.  I had this fantasy that I would finish the entire ride without sleeping between loops, but it was pretty clear to me that I would need to get a little nap in to avoid getting into an accident.  I arrived at the hotel just after midnight.  I got my stuff out of the truck, went up to my hotel room, took a shower and slept for a few hours.

Loop 3


I awoke around 5am.  I really wanted to just stay in bed and sleep in, and forget the rest of the ride.  But I was in this to win it.  And this last loop was just up the coast and back.  I decided not to put it off anymore, especially since I did not want to miss the Control closing time in Newport Beach.  So I got into my biking clothes, checked out of the hotel, loaded my stuff into my truck, and started my final loop.

This was the REAL test.  How would I fare, after having ridden almost all day yesterday, 250 miles, and then getting back on my bike for 125 more on the following day?  I did not expect much.  I expected my ride today would really suck.

I started out . . . and my ride really sucked!  I was slow.  I was sore.  It was hard to move my legs.

That lasted for only about a few miles.

I started going faster and faster.  For some reason, and I don't have a CLUE why, I started riding stronger.  I hit a 19-20mph average.  I didn't get it!  From where was I getting this strength?  Heh, it was probably tailwind.  I couldn't confirm that, but that was most likely the reason (usually is).  But...what the hell; I didn't care.  Speed is speed.

I was actually feeling good.

I cruised through Carlsbad.  I waved at my friend Susan as I passed by her house, even though I had no clue if she was there or not.  I flew through Oceanside.  I got onto the I-5 freeway, and jammed all the way up to Old Pacific Highway.  I was kicking ass!  I did slow down on Old Pacific Highway, but I gained speed again while travelling through San Onofre State Beach.  I got into San Clemente, and stopped for breakfast at Carl's Jr.

I was feeling good.  I was happy.  Because I realized . . . I had less than 100 miles left!  My updated Facebook status was very simple, "< 100".  My friends knew what I meant.  I also realized that the following day, I would be going on a road trip with my dog Nitro, to see my dear mother and step-dad.  And all throughout this brevet, I had been posting on Facebook.  At breakfast, I went to read my posts, and I saw comments and "likes" from SO many of my friends.  Everyone was rooting for me.  I particularly liked the one comment from Susan, "Ride that bike like you stole it!"  I decided to follow her advice.

I'm just going to say this, "I HATE LAGUNA BEACH!"  My fellow cyclists know why.  Nuff said.

The ride to the far point of the loop took a lot less time than I thought.  Before I knew it, I was at the Jack-In-The-Box.  (Yeah, I ate really well on this ride, didn't I!)  62.5 miles remained.  I had PLENTY of time to finish before the time limit.  I was feeling very confident.

I'll say it again, "I HATE LAGUNA BEACH!"

I was riding along just fine.  I highly expected headwind on the way back, but there really wasn't any.  So I guess I really WAS strong that morning, and it was not just because of wind.  I was feeling really good.

Then . . . POP!  It sounded like I rolled over a really bad tire hazard.  I stopped to check my rear tire to see if it was about to go flat.

My tire was not flat.  It was wobbling.  It was hitting against my brake.

I broke a spoke.

SHIT!

ONLY 40 MILES LEFT!  WHY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was so close!  I would have to call my friend Susan to come get me.  Now I would not be able to finish the ride.  I would not be able to achieve Super Randonneur this year.

Or would I??????????

I remembered when this happened to me on the Solvang Spring Double Century in 2011.  The SAG driver opened up my rear brakes, used a tool to open them up even wider, and then used a spoke wrench to get my wheel back to a "truer" state.

I didn't have any of those tools with me.  So I just opened the quick release on my brakes.  I then used my hand to position the brakes such that my rear wheel would only have the minimum amount of rubbing.

I got back on my bike.

The wheel still rubbed off an on per rotation, but I could still ride it.

The only concerns I had were (1) I had no effective rear brakes and (2) with the rubbing, I was concerned about heat buildup on the rims.

That incident on Cole Grade rode yesterday forebode this trouble!

I rode on the "wobbly wheel" for a while.  I was nervous as heck.  I was REALLY hoping I could get through 40 miles with no issues.  I stopped to check the temperature of my rear rims.

They were fine.

At this point, I would just keep riding as far as I could go, and hope that I could make it all the way to the end.

I cautiously progressed through the route.  Through San Clemente.  Through San Onofre.  Down I-5.  Into Oceanside.

No issues.

Into Carlsbad.  Another wave at Susan's house.  Into Leucadia.

No issues.

Through the Leucadia bumps and holes.  Through the Encinitas nonsense.  Past Swami's.

No issues.

Finally, into Solana Beach!

C'mon wheel!  Stay together.

The last mile is always the longest!

There's the hotel.

Wheel's still turning.

And now I'm turning into the hotel.

I finished.

My very first 600k.  Finished on a broken spoke.

But not a broken spirit.

My broken spoke.

My distance, average speed, average heart rate and average cadence.  Not super fast, but I guess not all that bad considering the distance and mechanical issues.

My Second Triple Century

On June 25th, 2011, I attempted the second triple century of my career. That would be 300 miles of bicycle riding within 24 hours in the Grand Tour. I did that ride the year before in 23 hours, 29 minutes. This would be my second attempt, and a chance to beat that time.

The night before, I carbo-loaded on some Chicken Alfredo and attempted to go to sleep early, since I would need to get up at about 2:45 am, AND would be riding for almost 24 hours after that! But as usual I was too excited, so I only got about five hours (which was still pretty good). So I got up at 2:45 am, got dressed, ate a quick continental breakfast, and left the motel to drive to the starting line in Malibu.

I got to the starting line right at 4am, which was right when the route opened. There were very few riders there, so check-in was a breeze. That was great because I was able to get on the route very early for the long day ahead. I just hoped my old worn tires would last 300 miles.

I did this ride before, so I knew the route and had a strategy: TAKE IT EASY. I was going to conserve my energy for the hills (especially the 19%-grade Potrero Rd.), and just listen to my body. If I ever got tired, I would slow down and not try to fight it. If I had the energy, I would use every bit of it. I had 300 miles to go. It was going to be a long day AND night, no matter what. So I had better just settle in and save it for the long haul.

Such a strategy would have interesting consequences.

I hit PCH (Pacific Coast Highway) in Malibu at 4am. I leapfrogged with this other rider, who passed me on the downhills and flats but whom I passed on the uphills. At one point, we ended up just riding together and had a nice conversation. Like me, he did the Highland Triple last year. It's always nice to ride with fellow riders, especially since I'm usually alone and still don't know very many people in the CTC/Randonneuring community yet.

As I exited PCH in Point Mugu, and came to a stop at the stop sign at the end of the ramp, four riders blew right by me, didn't call out when passing, ran right through the stop sign, and two of them even passed me on the right. Now, I don't mind being passed (it certainly happens to me often enough), but I DO mind when riders don't warn me and even worse, pass on my right side. Don't riders at this level of riding know better? Come on! Even worse, this would not be the last time I would see such stupidity on this ride.

I arrived at the first checkpoint in Port Hueneme at 7:30am. There were very few riders there, which was nice because there was no long line for the bathrooms or the food. (Last year, Rest Stop 1 was packed!) I did what I had to do, and headed on out towards the dreaded Potrero Rd.

I took it nice and easy. I was not going to push it. I knew what was coming. I crossed the "Camarillo Basin" and reached Potrero Road. I started the first climb. I took it easy. This was not the hard part. The road eased up, and I continued my steady pace towards the steep incline. I ascended each gradual hill. And there it was. The road all of a sudden ascended into this very steep pitch. I told myself, "Here we go."

I downshifted into my lowest gear combination, and just took it steady. Even in my lowest gears, it was an extreme struggle to push that bike up that 19% grade. But I was not going to stop. I was going to finish this in one fell swoop. So I just kept pushing. My heart rate was over 90%. My sunglasses started to fog up. My breathing was getting really fast and hard. Then up ahead, I saw a car disappear under the horizon. It was the top! Already? I already finished the hill?? Wow. When I reached the top, I wanted to yell out a big, "Woohoo!" But I was out of breath.

I continued riding strong after Rest Stop 2, cruising through Lake Sherwood, Thousand Oaks, and then up to Simi Valley and Moorpark. I checked in at Rest Stop 3 and grabbed a lot of food, because I knew what was coming up . . . almost 30 miles until lunch, with two nasty climbs and almost certain headwind.

I left Rest Stop 3 and started the Grimes Canyon ascent. I then got pissed off that I had to stop to take off my arm warmers because it was getting too hot. And then, of course, I had to reapply sunscreen. I hate it when you have to do wardrobe changes in the middle of a ride; such a pain! I then started my nice technical descent down Grimes Canyon. I'm telling ya, I'm really getting good at negotiating and steering through the turns on those technicals! But as I entered Bardsdale, I could feel the wind picking up.

I turned left on Bardsdale Road, and then onto South Mountain Road. And there certainly was headwind. But it did not seem to be as bad as I remember from last year. In any event though, I decided not to fight it. I just relaxed and pedaled at a maintainable pace, especially since I knew I still had another nasty climb on Highway 150 coming up.

I reached Santa Paula, and I had to stop and down a 400+ calorie MetRx bar. (I could not wait until lunch. Hunger was approaching now! And I still had the long climb to Ojai.) I started the climb, passed Thomas Aquinas College, and had to stop and take my helmet light off since the strap buckle was making a dent in my skull and giving me a headache! I then continued the long climb, and eventually reached the top. There was a hamburger restaurant there. I was SOOOO tempted! But I knew lunch was just a flat-and-downhill away. So I continued. I reached the last technical descent before Ojai. Unfortunately, I could not take it too fast because there was too much traffic. Darned cars! I then turned onto Carne Rd. (which just made me hungrier), and then onto Grand Ave., Park Rd., and then over to lunch. Good. Because I was hungry!

I grabbed a boatload of (salty) food and ate in silence. I contemplated the ride ahead: just one more nasty climb around Lake Casitas and then the remaining 160 miles would be mostly flat (just a few rollers and some wind here and there). I put on my second (or was it third?) application of "butt butter", and got back on my bike through the confusing-as-hell ride through Ojai.

As I rode through Ojai, I was appalled at the number of riders that failed to stop at stop signs. Pretty much every rider ran right through the stop signs! Even worse, they would ride right through despite other cars having the right-of-way. I think I was the only rider that actually obeyed the rules of the road. I was disgusted! I'm sorry, but if we cyclists want motorists to respect us more, we need to do our part and obey the laws of the road just as motorists do.

As I was leaving the city limits of Ojai, I came across two poor riders who had missed the lunch stop. They asked where it was, and I told them that it was back a few miles. I felt bad for them. And they needed to go back, not only to eat but to check in and get credit for the ride. Plus, they would need the energy until the next rest stop.

I started the last major climb of the ride . . . around Lake Casitas on Highway 150. The climbs were nasty as expected. I was slow and sluggish, but I wasn't going to push too hard because I still had 170 miles to go afterward. Long day (and night) still ahead! A couple of times the wind gusts caused me to swerve a bit. As is usual for me when that happens, I screamed like a little princess! But I eventually got through it all, and was rewarded with a nice descent all the way down to Carpinteria.

Now last year, when I arrived at Carpinteria, it was about 4pm, and I was having doubts about whether I could actually finish the 300. This year was different; it was only 2:45pm. And I was feeling GREAT! I had NO doubts about finishing the 300. So with confidence, another application of "butt butter" and incredible will-power to skip the Krispy Kremes at the rest stop, I continued on towards Gaviota.

The ride through Santa Barbara was really nice. I was enjoying the warm summer day, with the beautiful ride along the beach and all the happy people out and about enjoying the warm Santa Barbara sun. The climbs through Hope Ranch annoyed me a bit (always beware of roads with the name “Cliff” in them), but other than that, the ride to the next rest stop in Goleta was really nice.

I continued on, and hit the US-101 Freeway for the long 17-mile stretch to Gaviota. I rode with one of my fellow riders for a bit, reassuring him that, “Yes, this was the right way; it was going to be a while before the next exit.” And despite having eaten a lot at the last rest stop I still had to down yet another Met-Rx "High Calorie" bar because darn it I was hungry! I eventually reached Gaviota, the far point of the triple century. (Last year, when I arrived I was one of the last riders. This year, there were about 3 other riders who arrived with me, which was nice because it showed that I was keeping pace with my fellow riders this time.)

As I headed back, I hit a wall (not literally . . . I just got tired). It happened as I passed through Refugio State Beach, which was the same place where I hit a wall last year. (What is it about that place?!) I downed some electrolytes. Didn't help (at least, not yet). So I just slowed WAAAAY down, and "actively rested". I putted along the return on Highway 101. I eventually started to regain my strength as I arrived in Goleta.

After the rest stop in Goleta, I continued on my way back through Santa Barbara. The route on the return was easier as we didn't go through Hope Ranch. I rode through the streets of Santa Barbara, soaking in all the happy tourists out enjoying the summer nightlife. I turned off of Cabrillo onto Channel, reminiscing about the AIDS/LifeCycle Paradise Pit! I climbed over the "Summerland Bump", and was surprised at how quickly I finished it (last year when I did it, I was struggling). I hit the flat through Summerland and Carpinteria, and arrived at the Rincon Rest Stop an hour earlier than I did the prior year. Sadly, this time I wanted Krispy Kreme donuts, and they were out.

I continued down 101 through Mussel Shoals, and turned onto Pacific Coast Highway through Seacliff. One rider decided to tail me, because he didn't know the route. So I safely led him (and me) through the tricky Seacliff/Ventura bike path and through old town Ventura onto Harbor Boulevard. As I proceeded down Harbor, I all of a sudden got an incredible amount of strength, and starting jamming at an average speed over 17 miles-per-hour. And that surprised me, considering I was at around 260 miles, and it was about 1am. As I was riding along through Oxnard, I saw a bicyclist riding the other way, with a car tailing her or him. They must have been one of the quad riders. I arrived at the last rest stop of the ride, in Port Hueneme, feeling surprisingly strong. Up next, the last 30 miles.

Last year, the last 30 miles of the ride, through Malibu, were miserable. I was struggling, I was feeling miserable, and I was sleepy. Plus, I was nervous about finishing the ride within the 24-hour time limit. THIS year, I had plenty of time to finish within the time limit, even if I averaged 10 miles-per-hour. And I knew that Malibu had some nasty hills (not that they were really difficult hills, but that they were difficult when you've just ridden 280 miles!). And this year, I was feeling pretty good. So I decided on the following strategy: finish the ride in under 23 hours by conserving my energy for the hills.

I started down Hueneme Road towards Naval Air Road, and then hit Pacific Coast Highway for the last 25 or so miles of the ride. I just took it easy, preparing myself for the Malibu Rollers. I then hit the first big hill at Leo Carrillo State Beach. I took it easy, and before I knew it, I was over the hump. I then started to push harder. A few more ups-and-downs. I kept pushing harder, seeing the 23-hour goal approaching. More rollers. More pushing. More sleepiness setting in. I got more aggressive. I WAS GOING TO FINISH THE RIDE IN UNDER 23, DAMN IT! The Zuma Climb. I was getting closer. Push, push, push! I knew I would finish, but I HAD TO BEAT LAST YEAR'S TIME! Push, push, push! Another climb. Push, push, push! And then another climb. Was this the Pepperdine Climb? I thought so. I hoped so. I reached a false summit, and then another smaller climb after it. And then . . . a sign. Pepperdine University . . . to the right. YES! Just a couple more miles left! And then, Malibu Canyon Road. PLEASE, stoplight, turn green for my left turn! Especially since there is a Malibu Police Car right there. (Wouldn't that suck if I missed my goal because I got a ticket at 3am in Malibu on a bicycle?!) God must have been smiling down on me, because the left turn green arrow lit up just for me, with no help from any other cars! It was destiny. A short ride on Malibu Canyon Road, then the steep descent down to the finish line. What a fitting end to a 300-mile bike ride!

I arrived at the finish line, leaned my bike against a pole, and ran in to the ride official to check in. Final time . . . drum roll . . . 22 hours and 49 minutes. YESSSSSSSSSS!!!!

I then quickly ran to the bathroom because I had to pee like crazy.

I DID IT! Not only did I finish another triple century, I beat last year's time by 40 minutes! But what was really phenomenal was how smartly I rode this year's ride. This year, my strategy was to take it easy and conserve energy. Push when I felt like it, but when I started to feel tired hold back and save energy. Not to get frustrated and push too hard. But to relax. Because it was going to be a LOOOONG DAY. And it seems that strategy paid off. And that . . . was the true victory of the day.

The "Butterflood" Ride

February 19, 2011, was thus far my most miserable bike ride.

It was a weekend of heavy storms in Southern California. And I had the Camino Real ("Butterfield") Double Century to do. The ride would start in Irvine, head south to Oceanside, inland towards Fallbrook, and then back to Irvine via Rancho Santa Margarita and Tustin.

The ride started at 6:15am. For the first time, I decided to leave in the "regular" group versus the "early starters" group, since I was getting more confident in my abilities. The first couple of hours were pretty good. No rain. And I was riding strong. But then as I got into San Clemente on the Pacific Coast Highway, it started to rain. And I knew it was coming because I could see the route going right underneath the rain cloud.

The rain lasted for about 20 minutes, but didn't completely soak me. A group of other riders caught up with me, and I decided to ride with them since navigating through the residential area of San Clemente, as many riders know, can be tricky. So I stuck with them through the rest of San Clemente. Just before the second rest stop, it started to pour, this time soaking me. Fortunately, though, I could see blue sky off in the distance, and I knew that it was headed our way. So I at least knew relief was on the way. At Rest Stop 2, the blue sky started to wander in, which was good because soon we would be riding over 7 miles on the I-5 freeway.

We headed south some more on the San Onofre Bike Path, and biked through a huge mud puddle on our way to Las Pulgas Road. No rain, so I'm thinking to myself, good, since we're about to go on the freeway. I spoke too soon . . .

I got on the I-5 freeway, and things were going okay for a while. (Just an aside, here, bicyclists, by law, are supposed to exit at the rest stop along the freeway, go through it, and then rejoin the freeway. I saw a few cyclists ignore that, cut in front of exiting cars, and ride in the "prohibited" zone on the freeway. I mean, come on, can't you read the road signs and route sheet?! That pissed me off.) But after rejoining the freeway after the rest stop, it started to rain. Hard. And I'm thinking, "This is scary." Poor visibility, wet roads, semi-trucks driving over 65mph right next to me. This is dangerous. Fortunately, freeways have wide shoulders. But then, some car in front of me decided to park on the freeway shoulder, blocking our path of the freeway. Some poor rider in front of me had to brake suddenly and ended up slipping and falling on her bike. Fortunately, she was okay. But I wanted to beat the crap out of the idiot who stopped on the freeway shoulder. To be safe, me and the two other riders with me decided to "walk" around the asshole who stopped. I glared at him as I walked by.

And of course, the rain stopped just as we exited the freeway in Oceanside.

We took the San Luis Rey bike path inland towards Bonsall. And even though the bike path is supposedly flat, I started "hitting a wall" with my riding. I don't know if it was cross wind, or I was just tired (probably both), so I slowed down and decided to take it easy. After all, I still had about 140 miles to go. So I rode at an easy pace all the way to Bonsall and then to the lunch stop near the Lawrence Welk resort. It was mile 87, and I still feeling pretty good.

After lunch, we ascended Circle R Road up to the famous Lilac Road. I was going strong and feeling pretty good. I hit some technical turns and countersteered through them like a pro! I then hit the descent down Old Higway 395, which I hate because it has so many bumps, cracks and debris. And with the wet roads, I knew debris would just stick to my tire. I rolled right over glass at about 35mph, and I was thinking to myself, "Oh great! Here comes a flat tire." Fortunately, it didn't happen. I stayed strong, even on the awful, awful Reche Road ascents in Fallbrook. I had a nice descent down Green Canyon Road (except for my chain dropping). But then when I hit Mission Road, once again I "hit a wall".

I thought to myself, "I need to take in some more fluid and electrolytes." So I did. And I decided to back off as I rode down North River Road. I was going at what felt like a snail's pace. Then when I got back on the San Luis Rey bike path (heading the other direction this time), I got hit by lots of headwind (which I expected because it's always like that heading west on that bike path). I was rapidly losing strength and energy, and was starting to get whiny, so I just stopped, got off my bike, ate some peanuts (salt and protein), downed some fluid electrolyes, and said to myself, "Next rest stop, I need to eat." I crawled along 2 more miles to the next rest stop, and ate lots of food.

We had two more miles of headwind before we would veer north. So I decided to tail behind another group of riders to catch their draft. And that worked fine until we got into Oceanside. But as we headed north, and I tried to keep up with them, all of a sudden my legs just stopped working. They said, "Ok, Brian! We've had enough. We're shutting down. If you're not going to listen to us, we're going to take over matters!" It was lactic acid. I pushed so hard keeping up with the other riders, I reached my lactic acid threshold, and my legs were just too tired.

For a moment, I thought to myself, "That's it! I can't go anymore. I'm not going to be able to finish this ride." And I really felt that way. But then I came to my senses, and decided to do something better. Instead, I slowed down. A lot. Down to my lower aerobic zone. Instead of just stopping the ride, I decided it was better for me to keep moving at an effortless pace, for a couple of reasons: (1) it would work the lactic acid out of my legs, (2) I would still get my rest and (3) I would still progress on the course. So I did that. And after only about 15 minutes, I started to regain my strength and get back to a more normal pace.

That right there, regardless of how much rain I would endure and how slow I would finish the course, was my biggest victory: overcoming fatigue to keeping doing what I needed to do.

I was on the I-5 again, heading north this time. And once again, a damned car parked right on the shoulder. But this time, it was a police car that had pulled over another vehicle. I carefully passed the police car, toeing the white line and hoping the officer wouldn't decide to open the car door while I was passing. But I think the officer knew I was there and was waiting for me to pass. I went through the rest stop, and as I was reentering the freeway there was a SAG vehicle on the shoulder helping a group of riders out. But it did not look like an official SAG vehicle; it looked more like a private SAG vehicle. And private SAG vehicles were not allowed on this event. Especially since they were blocking the shoulder to the freeway. If that was a private SAG, then I hope they got caught and dequeued for it, because it pissed me off that, once again, a vehicle was blocking the freeway shoulder. (Now, if it was an official SAG vehicle, it would have been a different story.)

For the last few hours up to this point, there had been no rain. Unfortuantely, as I looked to the west, I could see heavy storm clouds heading in. And there were no breaks in them, so it looked like we would be getting a very wet night. I had no idea at the time how right I would end up being . . .

I reached Rest Stop 5, got my "brevet" card stamped, used the much-needed restroom, had some salted potatoes (salt and potassium), and headed on out. At this point, I was feeling stronger, and I wanted to keep moving because I knew what was coming . . .

As I entered San Clemente, it started to sprinkle a little. Then as I descended Ave Pico towards PCH, it started to POUR. And I mean, REALLY POUR. And since I was going about 30 mph, the rain drops stung my face. It almost felt like hail.

Another rider (who was much faster than me), decided to ride behind me and let me lead the way. He asked if it was okay, and told him I had no problem with that. Misery likes company! As I was talking to him, he told me this was his first double century. I congratulated him, and later asked him if he would ever do another one again!

He and I rode together along PCH in San Clemente. At this point it was pouring like crazy. We were both completely soaked. I navigated him through the tricky San Juan Capistrano. The rain stopped for a bit and he thanked me and pulled off to rest. I kept going.

I climbed the long Marguerite Parkway hill in Mission Viejo to Crown Valley Parkway, and then did the 6 mile climb up Antonio Parkway to Rancho Santa Margarita. It was nighttime at this point, I was wet, and it was getting cold. Rain was off and on. I eventually finished the long climb and did the sharp descent down Trabuco Canyon Road to Rest Stop 6. I got off my bike. I was freezing, wet and hungry. Thank God for Cup-O-Noodles (hot sodium)!

The wonderful volunteers at Rest Stop 6 had a propane-fueled camp heater going. All of us cyclists were crowded around it, because we were freezing. But I knew I only had 26 more miles to go, and I wanted to be done with this ride. So I hopped back on my bike. The same person who followed me earlier asked if he could ride with me again. And I said, "Of course!" So we headed out.

As soon as I started riding, my body started shivering like crazy and my teeth started chattering. All this despite the fact that I had three layers on already. But thank goodness there were some steep climbs coming up, because I knew that my body would warm up while pushing up the hills. (When you're cold, you welcome tough climbs!) I pushed really hard up the approximately 18% grades on Live Oak Canyon Road, followed by a freezing descent down to Santiago Canyon Road.

We then headed north on Santiago Canyon Road. And after about 2 miles, the rain started coming down again. Hard! Freezing, drenched, dark and poor visibility from the heavy rain, I kept pushing forward towards civilization (since we were in the rural parts of Orange County now). But I had to endure 10 miles before I would reach North Tustin.

I got into North Tustin, turned onto Jamboree Road, and the heavy downpour got even worse. It became very hard to see. And I was shivering and my teeth were chattering. I was truly miserable at this point, and felt the start of hypothermia. I felt like pulling over and hiding under a tree. But then I would just get even colder, and I would still remain wet. Besides, I only had about 9 miles left on the course. So I just kept pushing, hoping I would survive. Maybe I would be lucky and the rain would let up at some point. Or maybe it wouldn't.

Well, the rain did eventually cease for a moment once I turned onto Portola Parkway. 6 miles left and I just kept pushing as hard as I could go (mostly because I wanted to stay warm). My violent shivering and teeth chattering stopped, and were replaced by me bitching about every red light I hit on Sand Canyon Avenue. But this was it; the final stretch! Much to my pleasure, the Sand Canyon Avenue stretch was a lot shorter than I thought it would be, because in no time I saw the I-5 freeway, and right after it the finish line. Even better, there were cars in the left turn lane at the light so I would not have to wait endlessly at the light waiting for a green arrow. Soaked and freezing, I pulled into the hotel conference area and gave the ride official my rider number.

My time was a disappointing (at least to me): 15 hours and 13 minutes. My goal was to finish the course in under 14 hours. But, I took heart in the fact that my time was 28 minutes better than when I did the course last year. And conditions were far worse this year.

My clothes were completely soaked. I climbed into my truck, shivering again, and changed back into dry clothes, socks and shoes. I mean, my clothes were so wet it was as if they had just come out of the wash without a spin cycle! I then used the hotel lobby bathroom; got back in the truck; downed two protein shakes; stopped by Jack in the Box for a good old fashioned double-hamburger, fries and soda (hey, I earned it); turned on Lady GaGa's Born This Way, and drove back to San Diego.

As I reflected on this ride, I realized something. I wasn't hydrating nor eating enough. And the reason was the rain. With the rain, I didn't want to stop and try to pull out food. I was more focused on just getting the ride over with and getting out of the misery of being wet. And if I had stopped I would have gotten cold. And with all my layers on it was difficult to reach into pockets to pull out food (even though I had plenty of food with me). But even when getting soaked by rain, I still need to remember to keep eating and hydrating. I cannot let uncomfortable conditions detract from me fueling my body. I think that was the one mistake I made. I need to remember next time, when it rains, snows, hails . . . whatever, to still keep hydrating and eating. Because I'm not going to stay hydrated through osmosis!

I reaffirmed something else. When my legs get too tired, I don't need to stop. In fact, if I am on a flat road, downhill or mild grade, I should just slow down and ride at an easy effort. That will work the lactic acid out of my legs, and keep me moving along the course while getting the rest I need. And I'll regain my strength.

So despite my slower-than-desired time, I am happy with the fact that I conquered the challenges of Mother Nature and lactic acid!

Eastern Sierra Double Century 2010

This would be my "highest" ride thus far.

The ride started in Bishop, California, on June 5, 2010. We left early in the morning, and rolled around through some farmland around Bishop and Round Valley. After Rest Stop 1, we had a super long climb out of Round Valley up to Tom's Place. We then arrived at Rest Stop 2.

After Rest Stop 2, we adjoined U. S. Highway 395 for a few miles. The road was crap. It had all this gravel on it, all over the shoulder. There was no way to avoid it. For 8 f***ing miles, we had to roll over that crap . . . on our skinny ass road tires. I was just praying that I would not get a flat or, even worse, a flat due to tire wall wear (which would be much harder to fix).

We finally got off that infernal highway, and had yet another tough climb to Mammoth Lakes. We then veered off onto Mammoth Scenic Loop. We climbed so high that there were patches of snow on the ground. This was my first time ever biking next to snow!! And biking above the snow level (in summer, no less)!

Even better, we hit a nice downhill on Mammoth Scenic Loop. Unfortunately, the road had all these cracks in it, so it was thud, thud, thud all the way down. But after all that climbing, I was not about to slow down. No sir.

We got back onto 395, and once again, it was gravel, gravel, gravel. Fortunately, the gravel eventually subsided, and the shoulder went back to normal. And we had another tough climb. I had to stop at least once, because I was starting to get a little tired. But I pressed on. And eventually I saw a sign: "Deadman Summit, Elevation 8,047 Feet." Yes! The top! And over 8,000 feet. I have never biked so high in my life. This was awesome.

From there on out, it was mostly descent. We descended past June Lake, Silver Lake (which was actually very blue, and beautiful) and Grant Lake. We then hit 395 again, rode through Lee Vining, and then arrived at lunch. At that point, I was really tired.

I ate my Subway sandwich slowly, and just took a moment to relax, overlooking Mono Lake. I needed it, because there was still another peak to climb. So I finished my lunch, relaxed a bit, and then headed back out.

We returned on 395, but this time headed to State Route 120 and headed east. I was starting to feel better now, so I started jamming down that highway. We then started our last long climb of the day. It was getting hot. I reached the "false summit", and then continued through this field. Then, all of a sudden, I got caught in a vortex. I got hit by a sudden gust of headwind, which then immediately turned into a crosswind, and then immediately pushed me as a tailwind. Weird!

One more climb, and then I reached the highest point of the ride: Sagehen Summit. 8,139 feet. I got my picture taken, relaxed for a little bit, and then started up again, reveling in the fact that the rest of the ride was mostly downhill!

I started jamming down State Route 120, enjoying my well-deserved downhill after all that climbing. But then, we hit these nasty (and I mean, nasty), cracks in the road. Thud, thud, thud . . . for about 20 miles. Oh my goodness, it was awful! I thought for certain that, either my wheels would become untrue, or my tires would pop from all the pressure of hitting those cracks. And actually, one rider did crack a rim. But I survived. Bike abused . . . but not broken.

After the last rest stop in Benton, I hit U. S. Highway 6 South. I wanted to finish the ride in under 16 hours, so I just jammed down that highway as fast as I could. I think I averaged about 23 mph. Anyways, I pushed really hard, helped by a bit of a tailwind, and flew into the city of Bishop. After a few aggravating stoplights, I arrived at the finish line: 15 hours, 32 minutes.

Once I arrived at the finish table, I gave the ride officials my name. And they told me that I had just won the Planet Ultra Grand Slam! The Grand Slam is when you finish at least 4 Planet Ultra double centuries (or multi-day rides) within a calendar year. And thus far this year, I had finished the Camino Real Double, the Solvang Spring Double, the Heartbreak Double and (this one) the Eastern Sierra Double. This ride also represented my sixth double of the year, when you include the Death Valley Spring and Borrego Double Ordeal.

Heartbreak Double Century 2010

On May 29th, I was going to do my most difficult Double Century ever: The Heartbreak Double Century. 15,300 feet of climbing.

The ride left Palmdale, California, on the morning of May 29th. We headed west towards Elizabeth Lake. I knew today's ride would be a lot of climbing, so I just took it easy and went with the flow. I climbed several hills/mountains as I passed Elizabeth Lake and Lake Hughes, and eventually got out to where the I-5 was. I rode through the small town of Gorman, and then we rose over Tejon Pass and arrived at Rest Stop 2 in Lebec. And then, the real climbing started.

We climbed Frazier Mountain Park Rd., which took me through the villages of Frazier Park, Lake of the Woods, Pinon Pines Estates and Pine Mountain Club. It was a long climb from just under 4,000 ft to just over 6,000 ft. I hit a rest stop at the peak just after Pine Mountain Club. And then, the real fun started.

We had before us this long descent, technical at several places, from Pine Mountain Club down to State Route 166. 6,000 feet down to under 3,000 feet. I flew down that damn mountain! I hit a maximum speed of 45 mph. In fact, some of the tight turns came as a big surprise to me, and I had to hit my brakes pretty suddenly! But I made it down just fine, and kicked some ass doing it. The Freemason's song "Nothing But A Heartache" was going through my head as I descended. It was a blast.

I arrived at the lunch stop in the town of Ventucopa. (I never even knew such places existed!) After lunch, we rolled south along State Route 33 for a while. Some asshole in a truck decided to pass another car, COMING IN OUR DIRECTION. He ended up riding one of our riders right off the road. I pulled off the road as well as this truck almost hit me too. NOTE TO DRIVERS: Don't pass when there are oncoming cyclists. You might just hit us!!!

I then turned onto Lockwood Valley Road, heading towards the famous Heartbreak Hill. We rode through this freerange cattle farm, and this bull walked into the road and stood right in front of me . . . staring at me. I thought, "Oh shit! Is this bull going to charge at me?" I veered to the opposite side of the road, rode slowly by, and did not look at the bull. All the while, the bull turned its head as I passed by . . . watching me. But it let me go by unharmed. That was an experience . . .

I got to Heartbreak Hill. And I could see immediately why it was so named. A very steep grade. But it wasn't too bad. I made it to the top, and to the next rest stop.


After Heartbreak, it was pretty much up and down, up and down for several miles. I was starting to get tired, so I was starting to get grumpy. Fortunately, I did eventually get back to Frazier Mountain Park Road, and it was sweet-ass descent back to Lebec.

The rest of the ride wasn't too bad. Some of the hills started to get to me on the way back to Palmdale, but I managed. I eventually made it back to Palmdale, having finished yet another double century.

Solvang Spring Double 2010

I just rode my most incredible double century.

Since I started doing doubles in 2009, I've gradually been getting faster at them. Last year, it took me about 16 hours and 40 minutes to complete my first official double. This year, I've been averaging around 15 hours and 30 minutes. So with the Solvang Spring Double, I wanted to see if I could complete it in no more than 15 hours and zero minutes.

I started my ride at 5:17am. I decided this time not to wear my jacket, because I figured it would get warm very soon. Plus, I was always sick of wearing my jacket for an hour, and then having the damn thing tied around my waist for the rest of the day. But I kind-of wish I did, because it was pretty cold riding in the Central Coast region at that time of the morning. But it motivated me to ride even faster! So I plowed through the darkness towards Santa Ynez, and then up towards Foxen Canyon. By then, the sun was starting to rise. It is truly amazing to see the sun rise while riding your bike!

I climbed Foxen Canyon, with determination to make it to the first rest stop which was still about 20 miles away. When I arrived, I did what I needed to do, and got back on my bike as quickly as possible. It was still cold, and my teeth were starting to chatter. Not a good sign.

I pedaled really hard towards Santa Maria in an effort to warm up. I then headed on out towards Nipomo. At this point, I was at about 60 miles, and on a double, that's when I usually get my "grumpies". This time, though . . . no grumpies. I was feeling good, and riding strong (despite the nasty cross wind). I paced off of a few people, and led the pace for a few others. I kept a very strong pace on Orcutt Rd., which is a 8-mile (feels like 80-mile) stretch into San Luis Obispo. But unlike my last Solvang double, this time I was feeling good, even if I was starting to get hungry. But Rest Stop 2 took care of that.

I was at mile 80, and it was 10:30am. It looked like I might finish my first hundred around noon; which is amazing for me.

I left Rest Stop 2 and climbed a few rollers through San Luis Obispo. I then hit Highway 1 out to Morro Bay. With a nice tailwind, I was able to maintain a pace of about 22-23 miles per hour (for me, that's fast). I breezed into the mandatory checkpoint in Morro Bay (right across the bay from the famous "rock"), got my bib marked, and headed south on my return to Buellton. And it was only a little after noon.

I rode through Morro Bay State Park, which was beautiful except the road leaving the park is awful. It was so bumpy that one of my taillights went flying off of my saddle bag. I went back to look for it and could not find it. Oh well . . . I had to keep moving. Besides, I had a backup light. (See, this is why you always have backup lights with you!!!) Heh . . . wouldn't it be nice if I finished before dark! Then I wouldn't need any of my lights. Hah! Fat chance! . . . or was it??!!

After mourning the loss of my precious taillight ($20) I fought through headwinds biking back towards San Luis Obispo. I arrived at the lunch stop at mile 118 around 1:30pm. I was really doing great time.

I then headed south towards Pismo Beach. I was getting a little tired, so I slowed down a bit. But I was still feeling pretty good. I biked through Pismo and Oceana, and then hit Highway 1 on my way out to Guadalupe. I've been down this road before, and every time I ride out to Guadalupe I'm always tired. And it seems to take forever to get out there. Not this time. The whole ride out there went pretty fast. I arrived in Guadalupe around 3:30pm.

I then hit the 166 "express" out towards Santa Maria, which always has a nice tailwind. I then turned down Black Rd. and then over to Highway 1. Now I can't be certain, but I think I ended up in a paceline on Highway 1, because a bunch of riders were right behind me, and didn't bother to pass me. And they must have been drafting since they were awfully close to me. I caught up to another rider, and decided to make him the front of the paceline. So here we all were, drafting off of each other, helping each other climb Highway 1 on our way towards Los Alamos. Eventually, the people behind me decided I was going too slow and passed me. Our paceline was down to 3 riders now. I was in the middle. And I decided to peel on ahead. I had an okay ride into Los Alamos, but I was starting to get hungry. Fortunately, Los Alamos was the "dinner" stop. I was looking forward to some hot soup.

In Los Alamos, I had some Cup-O-Noodles (a staple on double centuries) and chatted with a rider from San Jose, for whom this was his first double. I shared some of my experiences with him, and learned about the rides he had done. I then got back on my bike for the final stretch of the ride, which included the toughest climb of the day: Drum Canyon Road.

Drum Canyon Road really wasn't that bad. I've climbed much worse. The worst part was the crappiness of the road itself. The road was so cracked and bumpy, it was awful. It was even worse going down, since the descent was steep, and you're inclined to go really fast, but you can't for risk of damaging your tires or wheels. Finally, the road pavement got better after the steep descent, and I was able to fly over to Highway 246.

This was it!! The final stretch. Once I turned onto 246, I went all out to make it into the finish line as quickly as possible. The sun had just set, but it was not dark yet, and I wanted to finish the ride before nightfall. So I moved as quickly as I could, and soon arrived in Buellton. The left-turn-green-arrow gods were on my side, and I quickly winded my way through the little town over to the finish line. And the result . . .

. . . my goal was to finish the ride in 15 hours. Instead, my actual time was 14 hours, 3 minutes. WOW!!! My prior double centuries I finished in 15 hours, 40 minutes. So this was a huge improvement. It was not only a personal record for me, but it was also my second California Triple Crown win. I was so happy.

Death Valley Spring Double Century 2010

On Saturday, March 7, I did my first bike ride in Death Valley . . . a double century.

I had never been to Death Valley. But I had heard stories. I heard it had the lowest elevation in North America. I heard it was one of the driest places on Earth. I also heard it had some of the strangest terrain on the planet. So I was really looking forward to doing this ride.

On Saturday morning, the alarm went off in my Death Valley motel room at 4am. However, I was so excited I was actually awake before then. Everything was ready from the night before, so all I had to do was eat and go. I put on my "butt butter", got dressed and ate an extremely junky breakfast of a gas-station danish, overpriced pop-tarts from the resort general store, a banana and Muscle Milk (total calories approximately 1,000). For some reason time got away from me, and I realized it was already quarter after 5am, I had a 30 minute drive to the starting point, and the ride started at 6am. So I threw everything I needed into the truck and drove a little faster than I should have through the early morning darkness of Death Valley over to Furnace Creek. Fortunately, I arrived just in time to leave in the second wave at 6:10am.

As I started the ride, I looked at the route sheet and noticed that the first checkpoint closure was in one hour and ten minutes, and yet it was 17 miles away. Shit! Beginning of the ride, and already I had to rush. And if you missed a checkpoint, you were disqualified. I pushed hard to make it to the first rest stop, and made it with just 15 minutes to spare. Fortunately, the first 17 miles were small rolling hills with calm winds. I only had time to use the bathroom and then head on out. Thank God I had Pop Tarts for breakfast.

The next checkpoint closed around 10am, and it was 30 miles away. So again, I had to keep moving to make it. Fortunately, once again it was small rolling hills and calm winds. The only real climbing was right before the checkpoint. But I made it with 40 minutes to spare. This time, I had time to grab something to eat, refill my Camelbak, take a couple of photos and find a friendly bush. And then I headed out . . . to take on the hell that awaited me.

This ride had only 9,500 feet of climbing. But most of it was at the middle of the ride, where we had a climb up to 3,350 feet. And the climb was non-stop, with no levelling out. It was awful.

I eventually made it to the top (Salsbury Pass), but time was running out. The checkpoint in Shoshone closed at noon, and it was already after 11 and I had 12 miles to go. It was mostly downhill, but I really had to rush to make sure I got there in time. And there was no margin for error (such as flat tires). I got to Shoshone with 20 minutes to spare. It was mile 74 and I was getting pretty tired already. Fortunately, the next checkpoint closed at 3pm, so I (finally) had some time. Unfortunately, I had to go back the way we came, which meant climbing that mountain again.

I took my time, knowing I was low on energy, to climb the backside of Salsbury Pass. But I had to stop several times, and I started to get grumpy and whiny. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally got to the top. I was then rewarded with a 3,000 ft, (pretty much) non-stop descent. Unfortunately, my butt and lower back were too sore for me to stay in the "tucked-in" position on my bike, so I had to grip higher on the bars and accept some wind resistance.

At the bottom of the mountain, I turned north to arrive at the next checkpoint. And I was struck by strong headwinds. Great, I was looking forward to an easy ride after all that climbing, and now this! After the checkpoint, I had to continue north, right into the headwind, for 27 miles. It really sucked!

As I was riding through the windtunnel, a paceline passed me. The lead rider told me I could join the end if I wanted to. Yeah, right! They were going 5mph faster than me. No way I could keep up with that.

I actually kind-of had my own mini paceline going. A rider came up behind me and decided to draft off of me. And that was fine, since we were all suffering together, and if I could help a fellow rider . . . hey, why not? But when we finally reached the lunch stop, the drafting rider just left me without saying a word. I mean, a, "thank you for letting me ride/draft with you," would have been nice! It's just like when riders pass without calling out. You know, it's okay for us to talk to each other. After all, misery likes company.

The lunch stop (mile 130) had Subway sandwiches. I love Subway! And apparently, Subway is a standard on a lot of doubles.

But what was really great about the Lunch stop was it's location. It was at Badwater, which is the lowest land elevation in North America. In fact, way, way far up on the cliffs behind Badwater was a sign showing where Sea Level was. It was pretty profound, especially considering we had to bike back up to that level!


At this point, the winds had died down, and I was feeling strong (thank you, Subway!). So I took on the next 17 miles strong and revitalized. But then I could feel some raindrops coming down. I don't mind so much riding in the rain, but I do mind it when I just spent $70 to have my drivetrain cleaned! Fortunately, it was just a drizzle, and it didn't last very long. And I soon arrived at the checkpoint at mile 150.

Many riders had finished the ride already, and it was only 6pm! (How can I get to be as fast as them?) I still had 50 more miles to go, and night had fallen. And there were a couple of nasty climbs ahead (but not nearly as bad as the mountains I climbed earlier in the ride). So with my lights on, I headed on out into the darkness. And I mean, this is Death Valley. There are no streetlights. In fact, no lights whatsoever. So my only illumination was my headlamp and whatever cars would come by. Fortunately, I had a good headlamp, and I could see the road ahead just fine.

I started out my last 50 all alone. It was pretty freaky riding alone in the dark in the middle of nowhere. But after I climbed the first hill, I was at a 10-mile level geography. And before me, miles away, I could see little tiny white lights and little tiny red lights. My fellow cyclists! I knew I was not alone; and I felt more comfortable. In fact, it was pretty neat to see their lights off in the distance for the next 10 miles, because it traced the path I was about to take . . . and even let me know when I was about to hit the nasty hill.

We also got some rain. Fortunately, it was only drizzle, so nothing really got too wet. No squeaky chain! And, being this was Death Valley, as soon as the rain stopped everything was dry two minutes later (not that it got that wet in the first place).

After almost 25 miles, I arrived at Stovepipe Wells, which was the far north point of the ride. The rest stop workers were very friendly and welcoming (they always are on these rides, which is why I love them). I relaxed for a bit and had me a Red Bull, some raisins, chips and the standard Faire of double centuries, Cup-o-Noodles. (It's the warmth and the sodium.) After a nice stop there, I only had 1/8th of the ride left, and that was simply to head back the way I came. So feeling strong and confident (and a little sore and cold), I started my final leg.

I had a couple of wardrobe malfunctions on my way back. My sunglasses (which were hanging from the neckline of my jersey) fell off. So I had to stop and retrieve them. Then my jacket (which was tied around my waist because it wasn't cold enough to wear) started to slip down, so I had to fix that. But once I got past all that, I descended down towards the finish. I caught up to a group of four riders and decided to pace off of them into the finish. And then, finally, I could see lights ahead. Furnace Creek. The finish! I descended the last hill with the "gang of four", and arrived safely at the finish with almost 1.5 hours left before the route closure. I did it! Another successful double century.

This ride was harder than I thought it was going to be. Death Valley isn't just a valley. It's also got mountains. Tall mountains. And the wind is very fickle there. One mile, it's tailwind. The next mile, it's headwind. And the air is very dry there, so you really have to hydrate a lot. But the worst part was the narrow checkpoint deadlines. I had very little time to stop at rest stops, and I had no margin for error on this ride. If I had gotten a flat, I probably would not have been able to finish (officially). Fortunately, I got ahead of time, and rode every mile of the ride. And it just shows that I need to keep training and try to get even faster. But I think I did really well.