Halloween day and socks

Yep. Halloween Day. And it's really all about 45 miles and the lightening bolt socks. We have our priorities in order, thank you.

Autumn

Autumn seems to be here. I'm guessing it'll last about a day. We got a just a tiny kiss of rain.

Powerhouse Bass Lake Double Century 2010 and recognition.

Recognition
In completing the Powerhouse Bass Lake Double Century, Dan (LanceOldStrong) and I achieved our goal of riding five double centuries this season and earning the California Triple crown 1000 mile club jersey.

We rode the Solvang, Hemet, Davis, Knoxville and Powerhouse Bass Lake together. I know I couldn’t have done it without him.

We started last winter with the loose notion that, having completed the Davis Double in amazing heat, maybe we should try to do three doubles and earn ourselves the California Triple Crown jersey. That no sooner became a reality — as in a fact for a few minutes — than Dan pointed out that we could do two more and earn an even cooler jersey.

We started this season, if not equals with different strengths, at least on the same cycling page. Even though I trained a lot, Dan focused even more. Throughout the season he became stronger and stronger, and pretty much left me in the dust. Perhaps even more amazing, he’s somehow managed to do it while keeping the support of his family who text him words of encouragement throughout his ride.

This last double just about did me in, yet at the finish Dan said — and looked like — he was good for another 100. He stayed with me the last 60 when he could have easily jetted away. Having him make up weird cycling lyrics to semi-obscure rock tunes from the past may be the only thing that got me over that last climb in the dark. I couldn't ask for a better riding partner.


The Ride
I’m a reader and a researcher. So is Dan. Yet somehow we made two errors before the ride even started. We thought we’d scouted the ride start. It was a block in front of the hotel at the Veterans' of Foreign Wars Hall on 4th. Little were we aware that going out the back of the hotel put you on 4th by the Clovis Veterans Memorial District Hall, the actual ride start. When we found it the organizers told us we could have checked in the night before, but I never saw it on their site, and neither did Dan. We missed our planned 3:30-ish start and got off at 3:51. Still, we were happy to be rolling.

We were both relieved to have dressed perfectly for the morning cool-not-cold temperatures. The ride itself was, well, dark. So it didn’t really matter where we were for the first 30 miles. We played “What fruit do we smell?” as we rolled through farmlands of grapes, oranges, perhaps grapefruit and who knows what else. Though we couldn’t see beyond our lights, we can report with confidence that the Clovis area is flat, flatter than anywhere I’d ever ridden. It continued like that for a bit over 70 miles. Then the hills started.


Along the way we picked up a rider from Sacramento named Steve, or “Software Steve” to differentiate him from Dan’s other friend Steve. We rode quite a ways with him. Steve was riding a standard double crank with a low rear sprocket of 24 teeth. (Note to non-geeks: That's a really high gear for a steep hill.) I saw him struggling up the hardest section, and later at a rest stop. I hope he finished. That’s one tough gear ratio.
UPDATE: “Software Steve” reports in a comment, below, that he did indeed finish, and will be buying another cassette before he tries something like this again.

Our first climbs were’t bad at all, and the view from up above Pine Flat Lake was a magnificent vista. The next climb up Maxon Road was a taste of things to come, but still not too tough. Burrough Road was everything good about California. We rode near a creek, still alive with running water. With cattle grates eliminating the need for fences, I felt like we were rolling through a cleaner, nicer past. I even stopped to photograph a great, big, road-crossing tarantula.

We missed a turn somehow and added a few extra miles before the Auberry lunch stop. Following lunch was a pleasant climb and at mile 112 a screaming decent. I couldn’t enjoy it knowing we’d have to climb it on the way out. I should have, because it would have been the last thing I’d have enjoyed for the next 2 1/2 hours. This was the hardest, most relentless climb I’ve ever done. I hate stopping, and though I didn’t get off the bike, or push the darn thing, as I saw a lot of others doing, I did have to take a break twice. I tried to smile and make a photo of my sweat-soaked face, but it doesn’t come close to capturing the pain I was feeling. I was as close to not being able to continue as I’ve ever been. I was pretty sure that if I ever got through this ride I’d never get on a bicycle again.


But, as with all climbs, this one eventually ended. After a long break and a spin around Bass Lake we got a long, long decent back past the powerhouse to that climb out I’d been dreading. We completed it in the dark and rolled into the Auberry rest stop.


I was thrilled to find that most of the route was downhill from mile 164. We flew through the darkness.
Clarification: It was downhill and faster than uphill, but I didn't exactly fly the whole way. I had a few rough spots. I felt OK, but just couldn't generate any speed.

I was happy to finish. Even though I kicked it up the last 8 miles or so, Dan had been chomping at the bit for the last 30. He said he felt like he’d be good for another 100, and he looked like it. I was toast.

Dan’s family met him, Tricia met me (with an ice cold beer — I may have been slow, but I was the envy of the room for a while) and I crawled off to bed, with dreams of a new jersey order dancing in my head.

Ratings
The route was a delight. I love California, and this ride showed off its beauty. I loved riding through the rolling hills and past the oaks and golden fields. What an experience.

I failed to love the haphazard marking of the course. As Dan pointed out, at the Hemet Double they said “We didn’t mark a thing. Pay attention. You are on your own.” Here they marked some corners with hard-to-see paint, but they missed a few too, so we never knew if we should trust them, or if we’d miss an unmarked, or poorly marked, turn. The route sheet was on regular paper in a small font that made it hard to see. Mine disintegrated and I had trouble getting another at the rest stop. A rider who was bailing out gave me his, thank goodness.

Not that the route slip was accurate. Apparently we weren’t alone at being confused because we didn’t know already, like the locals, that Millerton was Hwy 168 and we should turn right, and not go left on Millerton, which was what the sheet said.

As long as I’ve got my bibshorts in a wad, someone should point out they make food grade hoses that don’t flavor the water you serve with a sharp plastic taint. Yech.

But the worst thing on this ride was the waterless water stops. Water stop 1 was out of water when we rolled through, and water stop 2 was just an unstaffed pile of empty plastic litter on the edge of the highway.

Even with these serious flaws, I enjoyed the ride, and I’m pleased beyond words that I finished. As one of my favorite saying goes, “It’s not how well the bear dances, but that the bear dances at all.” Now he’ll be dancing in a California Triple Crown 1000 mile club jersey, stumbling and smiling as he does.

Endnote: Even though I swore never to ride again, Tricia had me out on a short recovery ride the next morning. Oh well.


Click for much larger version

Bonus Photos of bike bridge opening.

Carlos Gonzalez is now with the SF Chronicle, but a zillion years ago I worked with him at the Ledger Dispatch (back when it was a real newspaper.) He was at the Robert I. Schroeder Pedestrian and Bike Bridge opening and sent me this swell photo. Hey! That's George Miller clapping as I ride by. Thanks Carlos.

Walnut Creek Bike Ped bridge and internet fame

Tricia and I got to be "extras" in the grand opening of the Robert I. Schroeder Pedestrian and Bike Bridge over Treat Blvd. by the Pleasant Hill BART station in Walnut Creek. We'd responded to a note from the East Bay Bicycle Coalition looking for interested folks, and we were picked. I don't think there was much competition.

I grew up a block away from where the bridge is now and remember walking home from Walnut Creek Elementary and Intermediate along the tracks that are now part of the Iron Horse Trial, so it was really kind of neat to get to be there for this event.

They had us ride to the top and wait while politicos made speeches, then roll down when they cut the ribbon. It was great because we couldn't hear them yammering; we just chatted with the other extras and enjoyed being on a beautiful bridge.

After the event we went for a ride up Diablo. Part way up a cyclist yelled to us "Bike Forums! Margaret Thatcher!" I looked at Tricia and wondered "Margaret Thatcher? Huh....??" Later that day there was a post on bikeforums.net from "nthach," who recognised our jerseys and was telling us his name as he went by. Mystery solved.

On our way back stopped at a Greek restaurant by Sports Basement for a bite. Sitting outside a young man came by and introduced himself as "Gui" and asked "Curtis?" He'd recognized us because "I follow your blog." I'm always amazed to find anyone reads this. It makes me think maybe I should pay more attention to what I write.

Still, internet fame, where is thy monetary reward? I await you.

Knoxville Double Century 2010

Executive summary:
202.15 mile
13,968 feet of climbing (Garmin 305, Ascent software)
16:12 rolling time
18:22 hours on the course


Trying to sleep the night before a double century is just plain hard. A strange bed, and the excitement of a kid the night before Christmas just does not make for a deep, relaxing sleep.

We'd planned to start the 2010 Knoxville Double Century at 4am, but Ron (spingineer) and Dan (Mr. LanceOldStrong), like me, were excited enough that we arrived at the start early and managed to roll out 15 minutes ahead of schedule at 3:45.

We were among the first on the route, and overtook the two earlier riders about 10 miles in. We'd gone 35 before the sun started to lighten the sky and a group of riders passed us. They turned into the first rest stop, which we ignored, so for a bit we were out in front. It's not a race, so it really didn't matter, and it wasn't a bother that we were passed a lot more as the day went on.

Sometime around dawn I could smell breakfast being cooked. The smell of bacon and coffee mixed with the morning air is a memory stirring aroma. Later, as the sun was going down, I'd find myself on the opposite end of the day, enjoying the smell of wood smoke and the fragrance of ham being prepared for dinner.

At mile 45 I got my first kiss of direct sunlight. It felt good after the coolish morning temperatures. It had been downright warm at our Holiday Inn in Vacaville at 3am, but once we hit the road away from the city I was glad I was wearing a light windbreaker. We knew the coolness wouldn't last, and indeed it didn't seem like long until we were baking. Dan's Garmin registered over 100 more than once before the ride was over.

Riding this long gives one time to be bizarrely philosophical. I found myself thinking about how a double century is a lesson about life. Whatever the conditions are, they'll change. Temperatures change, winds shift, when you can't go on somehow you do and have a burst of energy later. Uphills end and become downhills, Cool becomes warm becomes hot becomes cool becomes cold. Light becomes dark, and on and on.

By the first climb of the day it was already hot in the sun. We'd been warned about the poor road quality on the Howell Mountain decent, so I took it slowly, thinking I'd see giant holes in the road. Instead the road was a delight, with no problem sections and I wasted a perfectly good downhill hammering my brakes to go carefully. Oh well.

Berryessa Road was pleasant, but eventually it turns mean as it starts uphill. But before it got ugly I had a chance to ride along side Chuck Bramwell, the Executive Director of the California Triple Crown. Yep, the guy whose fault all my double riding can be blamed on. If it hadn't been for his neat-o jersey I'd never have been out there doing this ride.

Berryessa Road, once it starts uphill, is exposed to the sun, and somewhat relentless. The only relief is the all-to-brief tunnel and then the water stop shortly thereafter. I wanted to camp out in the tunnel, it was so cool, but we didn't. Seeing Princess Zippy and husband Thom at the water stop was encouraging. It's so good to see a friendly face as you are facing heat, hills, and the dreaded Loch Loman climb.

After a quick stop at the lunch area we started up toward Loch Loman. I'd been dreading it the whole ride. I'd attempted to save every drop on energy I had, hoping it would be enough. Two weeks earlier I'd had to stop twice while climbing it and lay my head on my bars, drip like an exploded radiator, and pray for my heart rate to drop. This time I just rode it. I even beat my group up to the top, no small feat as they are both stronger riders than I am. At the top I phoned home and while I waited for Dan, I noticed I had a flat. I got it fixed just as Ron rolled in.

At this point I'd achieved my major goal and thought the ride might as well be over. My other goal, however, -- finishing -- was still a long way away.

After a shortish climb up Cobb we all enjoyed a long, long, screaming decent at 11% plus into Middletown. What a blast.

After our decent we hit a long, straight flat road where Dan, for inexplicable reasons, decided to crank it up to 19+ and pull a long line of cyclists for miles. I managed to hang onto his wheel because he was careful not to accelerate too quickly, but we eventually rode everyone else off the back. I was relieved when we hit the rest stop and I got to grab a quick fist full of rest and fill up on ice.

Heading toward Lake Henessey and one of the last rest stops is just a blur to me. I was losing my thinking ability at this point. I remember climbing, and climbing, and I remember a wonderful decent on a smooth road toward the rest stop. The rest stop featured, of all things, hot dogs. That's about the last thing I'd want to see on a ride like this, but for many, including my riding partner Dan, it was just the thing they needed. We were checked for proper lights. I switched out my dark lenses to yellow and we were on our way after being promised it was easy from here back. They lied.

We had several climb and decents. Perhaps they would have been easier if we hadn't already ridden 180 miles, but we had. And it was dark. And getting later.

There's something magical about riding in the middle of nowhere in the dark. With no light other than your LED headlight and the spill of other cyclists lights for miles it's hypnotic. You can't see where you've been, where you're going or off to the sides. Your whole world becomes that 50 feet in front of you. Maybe it'll go up, maybe down. You just pedal. Occasionally there's a road sign. During one climb I was sure that I'd had a major and important life changing epiphany when I realized that the most beautiful sign there could possibly be is "Trucks, use low gears."

At our last rest stop we were promised we had only 13 easy miles to go. I'd been sanity and health checked by several folks and had to convince them all I was good to go. I don't think they really believed me. I was deep inside my own head and just wanted to roll, not rest.

The last 13 was a pain that seemed like it would never end. It was too dark to see my bike computer so I couldn't take refuge in the readout that would confirm I was still moving. I was sure at one point we would never really finish. Eventually we made the last turn and were just a few hundred yards from the end. I felt like a cycling god. An old, tired cycling god, but a god none the less.

Dan, who had been a flawless navigator for 201.9 miles called the last turn wrong and sent me down a driveway costing me at least 20 feet of extra riding, but I got turned around and rolled in with Dan and Ron, exactly together as we had started.

Tricia greeted me as I just stood over my bike, unsure about what to do, or how to get off. Eventually I managed to dismount and Tricia hugged me and gave me the best beer I've ever tasted.

That night I was without a clue. The next morning I was still clueless, but added hungry beyond description. IIHOP was, at that point, an amazing culinary experience. Bacon, eggs and pancakes never tasted so good.

Monday I'm still a little loopy, but feeling better and able to speak in complete sentences most of the time.

Let me add this note: Quack Cyclists rock! They had the best support I've ever seen. Great stuff at rest stops, massive amounts of Hammer products, smiling volunteers that know what you're going through and SAG cars everywhere. At one point a guy ran from his car and tossed an ice sock on Dan's shoulders without Dan didn't even slowing down. They were great!

Now I just have to recover enough for the Bass lake double in two weeks….

Injuries: Not too bad. Slightly tired neck, tight Achilles tendons and a weird skin pull from the gripper elastic where my bibs meet my legs. Must have been from all the heat. Oh, and really bad helmet hair.

Voodoo nutrition

If you ride, you know how some days you feels like you have snap, and you look forward to every climb and sprint. You likely also know what it's like to just feel off; able to ride, but just not with any enthusiasm or energy.

I've had that low energy thing going for a while now. I've done long rides, short rides and commute rides and just felt blah. It's been making me nervous as I have the Knoxville Double Century coming up in 13 days.

On Saturday I told Tricia I'm willing to try voodoo, and that we should drop by the Vitamin Store and see what kind of snake oil they were pushing this month. I was ready to try anything.

I've been trying to drop a few pounds before this ride, and I've been very focused on my eating. I've not had a drop of calorie-rich alcohol this month, and I've been religious with my diet.

Apparently I've been over doing it. According to Doctor-My-Wife-Tricia and the folks behind the counter at the Vitamin Store I've not been getting enough protein. Indeed, when we returned home and Googled about for guidelines, I was way under everyone's recommendations.

So I bought a big thing of Gold Standard Whey. The sales folks said I should eat a giant jar every 15 minutes (that might be a slight exaggeration) but we figured just taking enough to get my protein intake up to average might help.

After drinking some last night, and again this morning, I went for a ride and felt better than I have in at least two weeks.

It may be voodoo, but I don't care. I'm feeling less worried about the Knoxville Double, and that's what matters.

I am down to 149pounds. I'm thinking every pound of fat I don't have to haul uphill will be a good thing. I'm hoping for 145 by the ride. We'll see.

Knoxville Double recon ride

LanceOldStrong convinced me it would be a good idea to recon part of our planned Knoxville Double. Tricia came alone just because, and Ron came because he might ride the double with us.

We left Pope Valley at about almost 9 am and rode all day. It was hot, and seemed like uphill the whole way. We ended up at 89 miles with just under 7000 feet of climbing.

Along the way we got to ride through deer-hunting-territory, complete with lots of rifles and pickup trucks. We rode forever with no water stops, draining our bottles to the point where Lower Lake looked like an oasis in the desert.

I'm still stunned with how steep the back off Cobb Mountain and Loch Lomand Road are. Ouch. I can't wait to hit it 100 miles into our double....

Tricia gets some award. I'll post if I can figure out something grand enough to present her with. She rode with "the boys" again. I admit there were many section where I had trouble, or just couldn't, keep up with her. She's such a cyclist, she always claims to be slow, or having a bad day, then just rocks.

Dan did his usual great job navigating, even when the cue sheet went stupid. We all lived, and nothing broke on the bikes. A good time was had by all.


A rare photo of me on my own blog, stolen from Ron. Thanks Ron!

Marin Century volunteer ride

LanceOldStrong and I rode the Volunteer edition of The Marin Century. The route was great, with no stupid miles in towns with traffic lights. The whole course was beautiful, and it seemed like we saw about three cars all day. The only issue was wind, wind and yet still more wind, with wind. At one point Dan stood up to hammer and a huge gust just about stopped him cold. We spent and amazing amount of energy to blast along at 12 mph for way too long.

We just about got used to wind and accepted it, then we'd stop and think "Holy smokes!" as the wind whipped us about and blew stinging sand into our flesh. At one point we looked over at a small inland pond and there were white caps and waves. Really.

Still, somehow, it was a fun 103 miles, and will hopefully prepare us for our upcoming Knoxville Double.

And we still can't say enough about the Marin Cyclists Club. They are so nice, welcoming and organized. It's really been a pleasure riding and working with them.

Diablo and training for the Knoxville Double

Tricia and I rode with Joyce on Saturday. Northgate to the Diablo Junction, down the South Gate and out through Reliez Station Road in Lafayette and Pleasant Hill. Here's a photo of Joyce because she hasn't shown up here lately, and the clouds were just grand.

I'd ridden the junction with LanceOldStrong the week before, and also done a series of five hill repeats up Somersville Rd to Black Diamond Mines on Thursday. I'm getting in my climbing, but I think I'm getting slower instead of stronger. Here's hoping I'm ready for Knoxville. My goal there: Finish alive. That's all, just finish.

Volunteering at the Mt. Tam Double Century

LanceOldStrong and my own bad self volunteered to staff a rest stop in Point Reyes Station for the Mt. Tam Double. As part 4 of our quest for the California Triple Crown Thousand Mile Club we are required to volunteer at a double century. We picked the right one. These folks were great. As LanceOldStrong pointed out, they used our time well and gave us what we needed to be at our best for the riders. We showed up to a stocked van and a huge binder containing just about every piece of info imaginable. If you ever plan to volunteer for a ride, you couldn't do better than working with this group.

Our rest stop rocked, and we enjoyed greeting and feeding riders as they rolled in. Dan made about 12,537,736 PBJs and seemed to enjoy building every one of 'em.

Cycling Crater Lake

Here's the deal: A ride with climbing, in my book, is any ride that gains 100 feet per mile. This ride was a mere 41 miles, but with 4,412 feet of climbing. Not so bad, unless you factor in that it all happens between 6000 and 7800 feet. There's just no air up there, and if you live at sea level you really feel it. That said, what a ride. It was impossible not to stop every few feet just to gawk at the amazing vistas.

Click this image to see a larger image. I'll leave all the guidebook stuff about volcanic action and lava and such to real web sites. I'll just point out that if you ever get a chance to go here, don't think twice, just do it.

The cycling is grand. The roads are smooth as they are closed in the winter, and there are no big trucks chewing them up, because they don't go anywhere commercial. During the week there isn't even much traffic. Aside from the very real lack of oxygen, it's pretty much ideal.

And did I mention the scenery?

We camped out, cooked out, fought mosquitoes, drank a bit 'o wine and had a grand time. We talked to Sacramento Wheelmen who had a group ride through where we were, and had a nice time chatting with a California Triple Crown jersey wearer we encountered on the rim trail.

We even managed to stop off at the Sundial Bridge in Redding on the drive home.


As you might know from my posts here, I recently lost my father. I'm going through the painful task of sorting through his possessions and getting his business in order.

My wife, Tricia and I talked with my father about our planned trip just before he passed, and my brother insisted we really needed to go, so we decided to go ahead with our plans.

A day before we left, as we were headed over to work on Dad's condo when Tricia asked "Did you check under your Dad's bed?"

I hadn't. When I did I found a small box labeled "Curtis Treasures"

Inside were a few small objects from my childhood, including a top, some beads, a peace symbol, and a few other items. Among them, my early 1960s Boy Scout camping silverware.

We took them on our trip and used them every day.

Thanks, Dad.

In an odd coincidence, my sweet wife had packed away her darn-near-matching girl scout version of the same kit, which she dug out and took along as well.

Blue Lake ride

Tricia and I are visiting Mariel and Keith on our way to Crater Lake. They live in the lovely town of Blue Lake near Arcata. We managed to sneak in thirty miles this morning, and we are so glad we did. We rode through redwoods, through fog, and through country lanes covered by the tree canopies. We rode over Mad River, worthwhile for the name alone.

Keith picked our route, and together we managed to build a circular route in Google maps using the bike feature and MyMaps points. It generally worked, though we're still puzzled over one odd turn it suggested.

Memorial ride for Glenn Corlew

I lost my father, Glenn Corlew, on Saturday morning. I needed to get tired and turn off my head, and at the same time, remember him. I decided to ride up Mt. Diablo as a memorial. Several of my supportive bikeforums.net friends joined me and my sweet wife for a wonderful ride. Thanks to you all.

Photo by Irene Hightower. I hope she doesn't mind.

The joy of hill repeats

When Dan (LanceOldStrong on Bikeforums.net) said we'd put a stone on the bumper every time we got to the top of the hill again, I thought he was being funny. But after three I had no idea how many we'd done and was glad for the pebbles.

As part of our assault on the California Triple Crown 1000-miles-worth-of-doubles jersey, we plan to attempt the Knoxville Double. We've got three doubles under our belts, but this one has a lot more climbing. To train we've decided to commit one night a week to pain, with no fun.

Our first effort was hill repeats up Avila Road in Bay Point, a dead end road that runs next to Highway 4 over the Willow Pass. Each .7 mile trip up averages just over 9 percent. We did eight. I tried to keep my heart rate above 90% max on each. During one silly "I'm in the tour" moment I was reading 99.

It sure wasn't fun, but I'm hoping it helps make my next double century a success. Because two weeks after Knoxville is the Bass Lake Powerhouse Double...

Mt. Hamilton

LanceOldStrong of Bikeforums.net and I had never ridden up the famed Mt. Hamilton. It's a classic SF Bay Area ride, so we figured we'd better get it done this summer. It was a stellar day, so sunscreen was in order. More is better, too much is just right.

The ride up is about 20 miles, with a couple of short downhill sections in the middle. The whole thing makes for just a bit over 5000 feet of climbing. Since the road was built to haul up huge parts for the Lick Observatory it never gets steeper than about a six percent grade. That makes for a very nice ride indeed. The observatory is old school UC Berkeley architecture. It makes you feel smarter just from walking through it. It's really a beautiful place.
The ride back down is a blast. It isn't as steep or as technical as Diablo, so you can feel almost like you're skiing it without thinking that you might miss a corner any second. The pavement was a delight, especially near the bottom, where it's baby-butt smooth. All in a all it's a very rewarding 40 mile round trip.

We're thinking about doing a future ride as a 100+ mile loop from Livermore, and up the back side. It's supposed to be a bit harder, and it's over 100 miles.

We were wearing our new Northern California gear. Our fans seem to love it.