Okay, so it's not all Europe. With this entry I make a decidedly domestic turn by describing my double century of October 9, 2010.
Linda and I drove to Clovis Friday night, October 8, to be there in plenty of time to rest up and ride the Bass Lake Powerhouse Double Century hosted by the Fresno Cycling Club on Saturday morning. This was my second time to the event, Linda’s first. It was particularly important for Linda because, if completed, it would be her third double century of the year and, thus, she would be a “California Triple Crown” winner:
I’ll let Linda describe her full story elsewhere. We woke up at 3 a.m., hoping to be at the start around 4. Linda was a little nervous about the midnight cutoff time for completion so wanted to start as early as she could. Despite our best efforts, we headed out a little later than we hoped. We stopped by Denny’s for our traditional pre-ride meal: the trusty Grand Slam (original). Not sure of the calorie count, carbs, protein, etc., but it’s served us well these past two years (I don’t eat Denny’s any other time).
We arrived at the ride start at a little after 4 a.m. and we should have started at around 4:15. We went through equipment checks prior to having left our house Friday morning and again in Clovis on Friday night. We tested Linda’s light Friday night. Check. I had inflated tires Friday morning before we left. Check. Once at the ride start, we got the bikes out. Linda plugged her light in, flipped the switch. Nothing. Unplug it, plug it back in. Nothing. Nite Rider. Bah! Stupid thing. I know the battery was fully charged—it was charged Thursday night. I saw it plugged in and charging. I have no idea what happened.
Next, I take my bike out of the back of the car and set it on the ground. Instead of the solid, reassuring, almost bouncy feedback when the rear tire makes contact with the ground I got the tell-tale thud of a flat tire. What the. . . ? I just pumped that thing up!! I hadn’t ridden it since the Sunday before. The tire was only about 5 pounds low on pressure when I pumped it up. It didn’t make any sense. It was completely flat. How do I get a flat tire without riding the thing??
Not exactly the start to the day that inspires confidence. I repaired the flat. Linda left a few minutes before me with her helmet light only. She bought this AMAZINGLY bright flashlight (Fenix PD30—the thing’s awesome) that she intended to use later, after dark, just to be sure, in case her Nite Rider used all its juice. Without the Nite Rider, the flashlight was her intended light for the evening. The only problem was she wasn’t sure how long the batteries would last. She chose not to use it in the morning to conserve the batteries. She started about 4:36, I left after her at 4:57. Once I caught up I rode with her using my headlight as a guide, the Mity Cross 350 (now that’s a fine light) until the sun rose, which worked out to be right about the same time we reached the first rest stop at around mile 35.5.
The morning temps were tolerable without arm/knee warmers, though still cold enough to affect my ability to squeeze liquid out of my water bottles. I hate that feeling—trying to will the hands to work, but they won’t cooperate. Oh it’s completely safe, I can still hold the handlebars, shift gears, use the brakes. I just can’t squeeze a water bottle.
The first 73 miles of this double are almost perfectly flat. Kinda dull most of the second half of that. Lot’s of pace lines these first miles. There was a tandem which, of course, was followed by dozens of suckers-on. For myself, I choose to ride alone, sans pace lines. If it’s true that a rider expends up to 20%-30% less energy riding in a pace line then it appears to me (assuming the lower 20% figure) that pace line participants effectively ride only 160 miles (20% of 200 = 40 from 200 = 160). Personally, I figure if I signed up for 200 miles, I want to ride 200 miles. I need to feel I’ve accomplished it on my own. (I-Linda usually can’t hang on to a pace line so that isn’t an option for me!!!).
I suppose I could do these doggone things faster if I rode pace lines; but, for now, I’ll ride my own rides. Plus, the pace lines can be downright hazardous to your health, what with unfamiliar riders, inexperienced riders, etc.
As Linda and I were getting ready to leave the first rest stop, the mass starters that left at 5:15 were arriving in a big ol’ pack. I left the first rest stop far enough ahead to where one small group caught me about 12 miles later, then the big tandem-led group caught me about 6 miles from the 2nd rest stop.
One fellow picked up my tail as I passed him and he rode with me a while. We had a chance to close in on the first pace line that had passed us and he suggested we take off after them. I told him, “no thanks, I ride on my own.” He must have thought I was some kind of idiot. Must have sounded like one, I admit. He took off after them but gave up after a few minutes and fell back in behind me where he stayed for the next 10 miles, or so, until the tandem train went by. He latched on to them and away he went, with probably fifty other people.
We all met up again at the next rest stop (along with the first pace line, too). It’s a hassle letting these pace lines go by because, for a few moments, you’re going the same speed. I do everything I can to dropout of the draft, off to one side, or the other, wishing they’d get past so I could get back to my own thing.
I did see one crash, but it didn’t involve the pace lines. On Piedra Rd, just after my first rest stop, there was a group of 3-4 other folks coming the other direction (very early starters on their way to the 2nd rest stop). All of a sudden, one of the guys is down in the road rolling around. I don’t what he did, I think he must have clipped the back wheel of the woman in front of him. He was up quickly and there were 4-5 other riders there to assist. I stopped to be polite, but there was nothing one more guy standing around gawking at him was going to do, so I continued on. I saw him later on at the post-ride meal—he did finish looking none the worse for wear. . . a rip in his shorts, bandaged, blood soaking through. Poor guy.
After the first rest stop the climbing began. The vast majority of this ride’s estimated 9400 feet of climbing comes in the 87 miles between rest stops #2 and #5 (or between miles 73 and 160). None of the early climbing is particularly strenuous (depending, of course, on how fast you’re trying to climb it). The climbs around Pine Flat Lake are pretty tame. The roads near Pine Flat Lake are most interesting because of the tarantulas seen crossing the road. I counted four—I missed them all (on purpose). I didn’t need tarantula guts all over my frame or wheels or, heaven forbid, on ME.
I saw Garth Powell, the fellow that I followed blindly the wrong way in the 2009 edition cutting off 23 miles. I made a comment to him asking him if he’d stayed on course this year. I don’t think he heard me or, if he did, he ignored me. The guy never admitted to having shortened the course. I heard him after the ride Saturday night saying how his time was way off last year’s and how he was just so tired at a certain section. “Sometimes it just works out that way.” Well, yeah, dipstick, you rode only 177 miles last year!!
Honestly, I don’t care much for the scenery around Pine Flat Lake. Once we steered away from the lake towards Tollhouse and Auberry, the scenery improved, for me, significantly.
After the lunch stop in Auberry the heart of the climbing came in. Following a fabulous descent to Kerckhoff Lake the most significant climb up Powerhouse Rd to North Fork was on hand. It has steep stretches, probably 10%-12%, but these weren’t too long. The weather cooperated fully. I imagine this area can be an oven midsummer—minimal shade, canyon, etc. We were lucky to have temps in the upper 70’s-low 80’s I’d guess. I don’t know the total length of the climb. . . 5 miles? 6? I was happy to see it end at North Fork.
Next was a relatively simple looking climb on Road 274 to Pines Resort on Bass Lake. This 7-8 mile stretch was my traditional “what-the-heck-am-I-doing-here”, “why-am-I-doing-this” moment that comes up at some point in almost every double I’ve done. I don’t know why here. . . after the initial mile, or so, it wasn’t steep, and it was occasionally downhill here and there. I was just a little limp, counting the pedal strokes. At one point I thought I was doing okay because I could see I’d closed the gap on the guy that had left before me from Auberry. As soon as I’d caught sight of him, though, he almost as quickly faded into the distance as I faded a bit. I made it, though. I felt much better thereafter, having been able to eat and drink a bit.
The climb back out of Kerckhoff Lake on Powerhouse Rd. back to Auberry was the last significant climb and came after the huge downhill that we’d come up earlier. Linda was worried about going back up to Auberry from this direction, much as I felt last year after having gone down and then fearing what it was going to be like to go back up on the way back. It’s not nearly as hard as the impression it gives. It’s steady, only one or two steep portions. Piece of cake.
On the way down Powerhouse, en route to this final climb, Linda’s and my paths crossed. I figured I’d see her coming up so I was on the lookout for her. I called out when I saw her, downshifted to turn back up hill, and she stopped to talk for a moment. She was feeling good, looking good. A little nauseous. After a few moments, we continued on our ways. Linda had spoken with Scott Halverson of the Quackcyclists in the morning at one of the early rest stops. She mentioned her Nite Rider situation and Scott saved her with an extra light he just happened to have with him that he loaned to her. So she was set for nighttime. She had her helmet light, her Fenix flashlight, and Scott’s loaner. The flashlight, by the way, had a clip on it, similar to what you’d see on a pen, that allowed her to clip the flashlight, pointing the right direction, to bag she carries on the front of her bike.
A little ways down from where I saw Linda I came across another rider sitting in the shade, on the ground, next to his bike. I thought there was a mechanical issue, so I slowed to ask if everything was alright. He said he was feeling what he feared were the early signs of heat stroke. He said he’d been sitting there for 15 minutes trying to gather his wits. He said he’d been waiting for a SAG vehicle but none had come by. I asked if he was having any cardiac issues we needed to worry about, he said no. I told him that I’d flag down the next SAG I saw, and let the folks know at the next rest stop in Auberry that rider #310 was having trouble and to watch out for him. I did have a SAG pass me, which I flagged down. He was coming from the direction where #310 was sitting and the driver said he hadn’t seen anyone. He drove back once more to look, nothing. He drove ahead to let the Auberry staff know what was up.
Once back at Auberry for a short refueling, the last 40 miles raced by. Except for just two little hills that I can recall, maybe three if you count the little hill on Auberry Rd after leaving the last rest stop, it was all downhill or flat. After 160 miles, though, these little hills are sappers. Thankfully quite short. Anyway, I was feeling pretty good and was having thoughts to simply skip the last rest stop. I did stop briefly to give my number and have a small snack. I wanted to finish and it was just a short 15 miles to the end. I made pretty good time, considering.
I passed the point where I flatted last year—so far the only flat I’ve had during a double in 11 finishes (I don’t count the one from the morning because it happened before I’d even started. Looking at the tube afterwards, it appears the base of the stem weakened and a hole was formed. Maybe I bent it too hard to one side, I don’t know).
I was in at 5:58 p.m., 13 hrs 1 minute total time, 12 hrs 1 minute riding time, 16.7 mph avg. I still need to figure out how to cut down on rest stop times. An hour seems like a long time.
Linda called me at 8:41 p.m. from the Auberry rest stop, on her way back, 40 miles to go. At first I feared whether she’d make the midnight cutoff time, forgetting how fast the final 40 miles are. She rolled in at somewhere just after 10:30 p.m. Great ride. Made her “Triple Crown”. Finished up the last 40 miles in under 2 hours, including 1 stop. She had riders lined up behind her because of the brightness of her flashlight.
Who crossed the finish line with Linda? #310, Steve Robenalt from Cameron Park, CA, just down the road from us. He told me at the finish that after he spoke with me earlier in the afternoon he thought he was feeling better and figured he’d at least start walking. He saw the same SAG guy I saw drive up, stop, ask how he was doing, and told him he was fine. Steve said that after a few more minutes he was feeling better still, got back on the bike and kept going.
