A couple weeks ago, I received an email advertising the Ojai Valley Century. The ride promised great views, good weather, and manageable climbing. It sounded like an great combination (particularly with temperatures at home approaching 100 degrees), so this past weekend the Mrs. and I packed up our scooters and headed south.
We rolled out at 7:00 into a mist, overcast morning. The climbing started early, with the route taking us up to Lake Casitas. The cool weather made the climbing fun; the climb was challenging but never difficult. The route then took us into Carpinteria, west into Montecito, down Highway 1 to Ventura, up to Santa Paula, and then a final climb back up to Ojai. The last climb was challenging because of the heat (well, okay--maybe it wasn't that hot, but it did get up to 83 degrees) and because it came at mile 87. The climbing was supposed to be in the 3500' range, but turned out to be 5050'. I was able to complete the 101 miles with a 13.3 mph average, which was pretty good for the climbing involved.
This was a great ride, and it will be on my calendar for next year. Good route, great scenery, and solid support, including a very nice lunch stop) made for a good day in the saddle.
Mrs. SockMonkey rode the 30 mile route. It was an out-and-back from Ojai down to Ventura and back. A great idea in theory, except that it placed all the climbing on the inbound route, and she faced a considerable challenge in making the 16-mile, 1100' climb back to Ojai. But complete it she did, and we celebrated this achievement by having dinner at Cafe Firenze in Moorpark. We chose the restaurant because it had received great reviews--but when we arrived, Mrs. SockMonkey was very excited to discover that it was the restaurant of Fabio Viviani, a Food TV chef that the Mrs. recognized instantly. +1 for the weekend!
Up next: LA River Ride.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Century 5 and Century 5.89
On
May 5th, I rode the Wine Country Century. Two years ago, I rode the metric, and last
year I forgot to register when the window opened and missed the event
entirely. I’ve ridden in the Sonoma area quite a bit
over the past few years, and it’s one of my favorite places to ride. In fact, back when the Mrs. and I first
started riding, one of the first lengthy rides that we went on was a route that
we found on the Santa Rosa Cycling Club website. That ride, the Dry Creek/Alexander Valley
32-mile was one of our greatest days on wheels, and the route remains one of
our all-time favorites. There’s
something about the combination of the intimate roads and the views of the
vineyards that make these Sonoma
valley roads special. We try to ride
that route at least once a year.
But
back to the ride at hand. Each of the
centuries that I’ve taken part in have a different quality. The Chico Wildflower is all about the three
climbs—Humboldt, Honey Run, and Table
Mountain. The Tour de Palm Springs is about expansive desert
terrain. The Solvang Century is about
the gentle but insistent climb up Foxen
Canyon Road.
The Wine Country Century is about rolling roads punctuated by short but
steep climbs, all wrapped around some of the prettiest terrain imaginable. Last year, the Chico Wildflower was my
favorite event. This year, the WCC would
be my choice—far and away the best ride of the year so far.
The
weather forecast for the weekend threatened heat, but on the day of the event,
the temperatures remained reasonable.
Except for the short climb up Chalk
Hill Road, heat wasn’t really a factor all
day. I rolled out at 7:05, and the miles
passed by quickly. A pre-ride email from
the organizers noted that the roads had taken a beating the previous winter,
and that we could expect some rough conditions, but except for a few spots,
things were very manageable. The first
rest stop came quickly, and I bumped into Samantha there and we
exchanged brief greetings. The rest stop
had breakfast burritos! It was a bit
cool for the first few miles, so a warm tortilla was a welcome treat.
I
mentioned that my sense for the ride was that it was punctuated by some short,
steep climbs, and one of those occurred shortly after the first rest stop—I
think it was on River Road, and it was a short 17% climb at the end of an
already challenging short climb. I’m a
spinner, not a masher, and when a climb exceeds 10% I struggle pretty badly. I really had to grind to get to the top, and
it taxed my reserves to make it.
This stretch had a couple of these brief challenges, and I felt their
residual impact throughout the day.
After
the second rest stop at Wohler Bridge, the route became very familiar, with the course passing through Dry Creek Valley,
through the much-appreciated lunch stop at Lake
Sonoma, down Alexander
Valley, and back to Santa Rosa.
The climb on Chalk Ridge
Hill Road was a bit of a pisser. I’d stopped on the climb when I rode the
metric two years ago, and discovered that I was only about 100 yards from the
top. This year, I swore that I wouldn’t
do that again—and ended up stopping in exactly the same spot because I’d
forgotten all about last year's resolution. The climb was
very manageable, except that it was about ten miles from the end of the ride.
Again,
this was a great ride, and certainly at the top of my list for must-do for next
year: great route, beautiful scenery,
and well supported. Mrs. SockMonkey did
the 35 mile route. Typically,
a 30-mile route is pretty flat and manageable, but the WCC 35 is more
challenging, with some of those same short, steep sections from the other
routes. The Mrs. met those challenges,
and had a great day on wheels, as well, earning us both a dinner at John Ash
& Co. in Santa Rosa
that night.
100.4
miles
7:43
ride time
9:15
total time
13.0
mph average
4484’
of climbing
Century 5.89
On May 12, I rode the Clovis Centennial Century. Or, I should say, I attempted to ride that
century, for on that Saturday, I met The Man with the Hammer. I’ve never climbed more than 5,000 or so feet
on a single ride, so the Clovis Centennial represented a signal chance to break
through 6,000’. The fact that the ride
was just an hour away and that it followed briefly the route of the AMGEN Tour
of California (the easy, fast downhill part) was even greater attraction, so the DogMagnet and I decided to give it a go. The early part of the route was a familiar
route up Auberry Road
through Prather. This is a great route
that offers a wide and smooth shoulder to ride on. It’s one of my favorite routes out of Fresno. The road from Prather to Auberry was narrow
and traffic whips past through pretty fast, so it’s a bit intimidating—but not
nearly as intimidating as the challenge that followed: Powerhouse Road. The profile found on the event website pretty
much describes the challenge:
![Climbing Profile [click to expand]](http://www.cloviscentury.com/cloviscentury/images/CenturyProfile.gif)
See that
V-shaped dent in the profile? That’s Powerhouse Road: a wonderful zippy, curvy downhill, followed
by the most demoralizing climb I’ve ever attempted. The climb was manageable initially, but the
extended stretches of 10% or greater grade and the heat made the climb
increasingly difficult. At the third
mile of the four-mile climb, I crapped out.
After series of increasingly weak start-and-stop sequences, I just
couldn’t get my legs to go any further.
Overheated, tired, and cramping up; I wanted to go, but just couldn’t. I had met The Man with the Hammer.
A SAG motorcycle rider stopped and asked how I was doing, and I told him
to get a SAG car out to pick up my sorry ass because I was done. Oddly enough, once he rode off, I was able to
get back on the bike and get a few yards up the road. And a few yards turned into a few hundred
yards. And then a quarter mile. And then a half mile. And then the road flattened out and I made it
to the top without having to SAG. I was able to cover the last mile in one shot; it turned out to be a very manageable piece of climbing, and it was
a great feeling to finish that stupid climb, even if it took forever to do
it.
 |
| The Man with the Hammer |
I was pretty much done, though, and
at the rest stop at the top of the hill I was told 1) that I was the last rider
on the route, and 2) that there was a bailout route that would knock off the
last piece of climbing up to Bass Lake and get me back to an easier part of the
course so I could finish. (The Fresno Cycling Club guys who provided support for the ride did an outstanding job. They were incredibly encouraging, provided quality rest stops, and took good care of their riders. This was a one-off event, but if they hold it again next year, I'd give it another shot and recommend it to others looking for a challenge.) After
cogitating the options, I decided to take the bailout. There was no way I was going to be able to complete
the full century route, so I didn’t beat myself up too badly, and actually
enjoyed the route along Friant Road and back to Clovis. This was the part of the route that followed
the AMGEN tour course, and it was a bit cool to see those guys riding on some
very familiar roads a bit later in the week.
The DogMagnet made nearly all the way to the final rest stop, but needed
a SAG ride for 5 miles to get there. From that point, he completed the
ride. In the end, the heat was the
biggest factor for us both. It was one
of the first weekends where temperatures reached the 90’s, and the temperature
on the road exceeded 102 degrees. Had I
ridden this route a month earlier, I might have been able to complete it. But that wasn’t the case on this date. So I took my 89 miles and logged it as a
personal growth experience. I met The
Man with the Hammer that day, and he owned me.
Next up: The Ojai Valley Century
Century 3a: Fail; Century 3b Epic; Century 4: A hot time on Table Mountain
Three starts, two completions. Is it any wonder that I've not rushed to keep the blog updated?
3a. The Central Valley Vietnam Veteran's ride.
This was supposed to be an easy century. The ride started just a few miles from home, the route wasn't challenging, and the possible rain and wind was to be the only real challenge. The first few miles went well, and then my stomach decided to rebel and I dropped like a one egg pudding (to quote my major professor). By mile 50 I had the chills, and at mile 61 I was done. Mrs. SockMonkey picked my sorry ass up and sagged me back to my car. The DogMagnet completed the whole ride, overcoming a torrential downpour and an increasingly stiff headwind on the way back to Tulare. Fail.
3b Woody Y Century
On April 14, I took on the Woody Y Century in Bakersfield. Bakersfield can be a pretty grim place to ride, but I took a shot at this ride because it seemed to have a relatively easy century--a good way to get back in the saddle after the failed ride.
It rained throughout the week, and although the forecast for the day of the ride was good, the day turned out to be consistently intermittently wet. The ride opened with an extended run through an oilfield with all the esthetic appeal that that implies, but then the route took us through a very pretty piece of rolling terrain along Woody Road that really made the ride worthwhile. The rest of the ride wound through some typical south Valley agricultural land, past the famous Famoso dragstrip, and then back to Bakersfield. Not a memorable ride, but a way to get back on track. The rain and a constant, moderate head/crosswind made the day a challenge beyond that presented by the very manageable route. The rain varied considerably, ranging from cold, sharp rain, to light spotty rain, to fat rain--right out of Forrest Gump. The rain, combined with the rough chip seal roads thoroughly shredded my rear tire. It was nearing the end of its service life at 2,000 miles anyway, but the conditions separated the tread from the carcass for nearly a quarter of the diameter of the tire by the end of the ride. In the end, the day wasn't as epic as my monsoon ride at the 2010 San Diego Gran Fondo Colnago, but it was a rewarding ride and epic in its own way. This wasn't a big ride (probably a hundred or so riders), and I'm pretty sure that I finished last. But I'll take it.
4 Chico Wildflower
On April 29, rode the Chico Wildflower for the second time. Last year's ride was my all-time favorite century: A couple iconic climbs, a personal record for climbing, great support, and the satisfaction of completing a challenging century. I was really looking forward to this year's event, and it didn't disappoint. The support wasn't quite as good (not as much variety at the rest stops), and it looked like there were fewer riders than last year, but the ride was as challenging and rewarding as I had hoped. The initial climb was a crappy as I remembered. Think of a road with bad acne and you'll not be far from the mark. The second climb, up Honey Run Road, was pretty and challenging--a great piece of riding. The third climb, up Cherokee Road to the top of Table Mountain, though, remained a major struggle. It was hot (84 degrees per my phone, but 95 on my bike computer), and the third mile of the four-mile climb was a real struggle. I had to stop in the same three spots I stopped last year, and the short pieces of 10+% grade really caught me up short. I did have quite a bit of company at each stop, but that didn't lessen the disappointment at not making the climb in a more powerful manner.
I'm finding that the greatest challenge in completing a century is the mental hurdle that happens at about mile 80. That will be the subject of a later post, but the Wildflower is, for me, a classic example of how flat, easy riding can be an agonizing experience. The final thirty miles or more of the route are an absolutely flat ride through some orchards and fields--the route of the aptly named Flatflower 30 mile ride. No challenge at all--except that, at 75 miles into the ride, all I wanted to do was get to the end. Tired. Hot. Knees sore from the climbing. Miles that seemed to creep by at an unbelievably bovine pace. But all things pass, and I made it back to the car and logged another completed century.
Mrs SockMonkey took on the Flatflower and scored a strong ride. It'd been a while since she had been on her bike, and she, too, completed a successful ride.
So century number four is in the books. The Wildflower is a great ride, and highly recommended. I'm still struggling to find my rhythm this year, though. Palm Springs felt good, Solvang was a good outing, but even though I'm riding as much as I ever have and taking on more challenging climbs, I'm not having century experiences that are as strong as I'd like to be. But I'm working on it, and am very optimistic about my next ride. Next up: The Wine Country Century.
3a. The Central Valley Vietnam Veteran's ride.
This was supposed to be an easy century. The ride started just a few miles from home, the route wasn't challenging, and the possible rain and wind was to be the only real challenge. The first few miles went well, and then my stomach decided to rebel and I dropped like a one egg pudding (to quote my major professor). By mile 50 I had the chills, and at mile 61 I was done. Mrs. SockMonkey picked my sorry ass up and sagged me back to my car. The DogMagnet completed the whole ride, overcoming a torrential downpour and an increasingly stiff headwind on the way back to Tulare. Fail.
3b Woody Y Century
On April 14, I took on the Woody Y Century in Bakersfield. Bakersfield can be a pretty grim place to ride, but I took a shot at this ride because it seemed to have a relatively easy century--a good way to get back in the saddle after the failed ride.
It rained throughout the week, and although the forecast for the day of the ride was good, the day turned out to be consistently intermittently wet. The ride opened with an extended run through an oilfield with all the esthetic appeal that that implies, but then the route took us through a very pretty piece of rolling terrain along Woody Road that really made the ride worthwhile. The rest of the ride wound through some typical south Valley agricultural land, past the famous Famoso dragstrip, and then back to Bakersfield. Not a memorable ride, but a way to get back on track. The rain and a constant, moderate head/crosswind made the day a challenge beyond that presented by the very manageable route. The rain varied considerably, ranging from cold, sharp rain, to light spotty rain, to fat rain--right out of Forrest Gump. The rain, combined with the rough chip seal roads thoroughly shredded my rear tire. It was nearing the end of its service life at 2,000 miles anyway, but the conditions separated the tread from the carcass for nearly a quarter of the diameter of the tire by the end of the ride. In the end, the day wasn't as epic as my monsoon ride at the 2010 San Diego Gran Fondo Colnago, but it was a rewarding ride and epic in its own way. This wasn't a big ride (probably a hundred or so riders), and I'm pretty sure that I finished last. But I'll take it.
 |
| The SockMonkey at the end of the ride. |
4 Chico Wildflower
On April 29, rode the Chico Wildflower for the second time. Last year's ride was my all-time favorite century: A couple iconic climbs, a personal record for climbing, great support, and the satisfaction of completing a challenging century. I was really looking forward to this year's event, and it didn't disappoint. The support wasn't quite as good (not as much variety at the rest stops), and it looked like there were fewer riders than last year, but the ride was as challenging and rewarding as I had hoped. The initial climb was a crappy as I remembered. Think of a road with bad acne and you'll not be far from the mark. The second climb, up Honey Run Road, was pretty and challenging--a great piece of riding. The third climb, up Cherokee Road to the top of Table Mountain, though, remained a major struggle. It was hot (84 degrees per my phone, but 95 on my bike computer), and the third mile of the four-mile climb was a real struggle. I had to stop in the same three spots I stopped last year, and the short pieces of 10+% grade really caught me up short. I did have quite a bit of company at each stop, but that didn't lessen the disappointment at not making the climb in a more powerful manner.
 |
| Cherokee Road, about a mile from the top of Table Mountain. What you can't see is my lungs hanging out of my chest as I try to catch my breath. |
 |
| The moonscape at the top of Table Mountain. |
Mrs SockMonkey took on the Flatflower and scored a strong ride. It'd been a while since she had been on her bike, and she, too, completed a successful ride.
So century number four is in the books. The Wildflower is a great ride, and highly recommended. I'm still struggling to find my rhythm this year, though. Palm Springs felt good, Solvang was a good outing, but even though I'm riding as much as I ever have and taking on more challenging climbs, I'm not having century experiences that are as strong as I'd like to be. But I'm working on it, and am very optimistic about my next ride. Next up: The Wine Country Century.
Yes, I am a slacker
Well. My work on this blog has been as inconsistent as my riding season this year. I haven't done a very good job in keeping this thing up to date, so I'm going to be jamming to catch up.
 |
| Jabba the Hutt: The image of the archetypal slacker |
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Two
Some rides really get into my head. Foxy's Fall Century is one of those, largely because I broke down mentally at the midpoint the first time I rode it and struggled mightily to finish. The Solvang Century is another. I've ridden the Solvang metric twice, once intentionally, and then last year after I decided to abandon my attempt at the century because my knees were killing me, the wind had me demoralized and I opted for the shorter course. But, more than that, everything I'd read about the Solvang century route speaks to all the tough climbing during the last 20 miles of the ride, and also the 5000' of climbing. These challenges represent a daunting proposition for a rider who struggles to complete a century to begin with, and who is not a particularly strong climber. I get there, but it's not flashy. But I guess it's for situations like this that they have SAG on organized rides.....
The morning in Solvang was cold and moist. I rolled out at 7:40 along with a steady stream of other riders. The first fifty miles of the ride went well. I felt strong, and the climb up to Vandenberg AFB--a long and steady but moderate climb--was much easier than last year. Exiting Orcutt, however, the wind kicked in a bit and really sapped my energy badly. I was under the impression that there was a lunch stop on the route, and I expected to tank up on a sandwich or something similar. I was wrong. The rest stops had the usual orange/banana/peanut butter and jelly/and so forth, but I really needed something beyond that to bring up the energy level. So I ate what I could stomach and ground out the middle miles of the ride. I had a flat at mile 54, and I had trouble re-seating the tire on the rim. The time spent out of the saddle working on the repair led to a set of moderately problematic leg cramps that recurred throughout the day. The ride was kicking my butt.
I gimped along pathetically, and crawled into the rest stop in Sisquoc at mile 70. Aided by a couple chunks of bagel and a Gu gel, I caught a second wind of sorts. Looming ahead was Foxen Canyon Road. I'd ridden parts of this road before, and knew that it would eventually lead to The Wall, which is the fearsome climb on the route. Foxen Canyon turned out to be a 15 mile or so of gentle but consistent and slightly rolling climbing accentuated by two very short, somewhat challenging climbs. I started feeling a bit stronger as I rolled along, and I gained some inspiration in being able to keep pace with a couple clumps of riders. Reflecting on how slow we were going, just gimping out the miles, I'm guessing we looked like a pack of zombies on bikes. Slowly, I began to feel that I would finish the ride--and not just finish, but finish in relatively good form. Getting to the top of The Wall at mile 85 was an inspiration, for it turned out to be an easy achievement, and the short climb up Ballard Canyon Road, one of my very favorite few miles of road anywhere really capped off the ride. So ended my tenth career century ride.
So the Solvang Century is another challenge met. I set a new personal best for climbing at 5005', but the climbing was different than most other rides in that the vast majority of work was accumulated over lengthy but mild climbs--in contrast to a ride such as the Chico Wildflower, which has three very distinct and challenging climbs. I was so freaked out by this ride that I never stopped to take any photos, so all I've got is the shot of the monkey strapped onto the seat bag in 34 degree weather at the start.
One other item of note: the DogMagnet completed his first century a mere four months after starting cycling, and he did it over an hour faster than I did. I hate him even more.
The Numbers:
99.9 miles
7:42 ride time
9:25 total time
13.0 mph average
5005' climbing
Next up: The Central Valley Vietnam Veterans Spring Century in Tulare.
The morning in Solvang was cold and moist. I rolled out at 7:40 along with a steady stream of other riders. The first fifty miles of the ride went well. I felt strong, and the climb up to Vandenberg AFB--a long and steady but moderate climb--was much easier than last year. Exiting Orcutt, however, the wind kicked in a bit and really sapped my energy badly. I was under the impression that there was a lunch stop on the route, and I expected to tank up on a sandwich or something similar. I was wrong. The rest stops had the usual orange/banana/peanut butter and jelly/and so forth, but I really needed something beyond that to bring up the energy level. So I ate what I could stomach and ground out the middle miles of the ride. I had a flat at mile 54, and I had trouble re-seating the tire on the rim. The time spent out of the saddle working on the repair led to a set of moderately problematic leg cramps that recurred throughout the day. The ride was kicking my butt.
I gimped along pathetically, and crawled into the rest stop in Sisquoc at mile 70. Aided by a couple chunks of bagel and a Gu gel, I caught a second wind of sorts. Looming ahead was Foxen Canyon Road. I'd ridden parts of this road before, and knew that it would eventually lead to The Wall, which is the fearsome climb on the route. Foxen Canyon turned out to be a 15 mile or so of gentle but consistent and slightly rolling climbing accentuated by two very short, somewhat challenging climbs. I started feeling a bit stronger as I rolled along, and I gained some inspiration in being able to keep pace with a couple clumps of riders. Reflecting on how slow we were going, just gimping out the miles, I'm guessing we looked like a pack of zombies on bikes. Slowly, I began to feel that I would finish the ride--and not just finish, but finish in relatively good form. Getting to the top of The Wall at mile 85 was an inspiration, for it turned out to be an easy achievement, and the short climb up Ballard Canyon Road, one of my very favorite few miles of road anywhere really capped off the ride. So ended my tenth career century ride.
So the Solvang Century is another challenge met. I set a new personal best for climbing at 5005', but the climbing was different than most other rides in that the vast majority of work was accumulated over lengthy but mild climbs--in contrast to a ride such as the Chico Wildflower, which has three very distinct and challenging climbs. I was so freaked out by this ride that I never stopped to take any photos, so all I've got is the shot of the monkey strapped onto the seat bag in 34 degree weather at the start.
One other item of note: the DogMagnet completed his first century a mere four months after starting cycling, and he did it over an hour faster than I did. I hate him even more.
The Numbers:
99.9 miles
7:42 ride time
9:25 total time
13.0 mph average
5005' climbing
Next up: The Central Valley Vietnam Veterans Spring Century in Tulare.
Monday, February 20, 2012
One down: Tour de Palm Springs 2012
The century season is underway! On February 11th, I managed to complete the Tour de Palm Springs. This was my third time at the event (first ride was the metric, and last year I completed the century), and although a familiar ride, it contained its share of drama this year. I really enjoy this ride, even though it's a long way from home, at a four and a half our drive: it's a full century, the climbing is tame, the route is scenic (I really enjoy the desert scenery without the summer heat), and there are a lot of riders. All in all, a great way to kick off the riding season.
Morning came quick after the long drive to Palm Springs on Friday night. We got to the start area about 7:00, and Mrs. SockMonkey (who rode the 25 mile route) picked up our registration materials while I prepped the bikes.
I rolled out at 7:30. Last year, the start dumped riders out onto the road in waves of 100 or so, and was a real mess. Clumps of riders at different speeds made for a messy first ten miles. This time, the organizers set up a start area on a less busy street, with faster riders starting earlier and slower riders later. I shot for the middle group, not because I'm middle-fast, but because being slow means taking all day for the ride. I'm not sure if there were fewer riders (I believe that that was the case, or if the organizers' strategy was a success, but the result for me was a very smooth roll-out. And then, almost immediately, the crosswind hit. In a very big way. There was a pretty steady wind all day that I would guess was between 5 and 15 mph, and when I started, there were gusts of what I would guess were up to 25 mph or so (I'm not an expert, but flags were standing straight out and made a sharp snapping noise as they withstood the wind).
Riding in this crosswind, at 90 degrees to my direction of travel, was the scariest thing I've ever done on a road bike: Leaning into the wind, having the wind rise and fall suddenly as cars passed by upwind, getting pelted with sand, riding past an open trench downwind, and negotiating a narrow path between traffic and the curb was flat-out frightening for the first five miles or so. Then we turned directly into the wind and crept forward at 5 mph for another five miles that seemed to take forever. I saw more than a few riders bailing on the course, and it struck me that I was going to have to label this post "Tour de Palm Springs 2012: FAIL." But I stuck it out and once the route exited the valley and got into the foothills, things became more manageable.
One of the byproducts of the wind was a very fast transit down Dillon Road. Really fast. Like 30+ mph fast with minimal effort. Very cool, and hard earned during the first miles of the ride.
The rest of the ride was pretty much uneventful. The rest stops were vastly improved over last year, with much attention to organization and lots of friendly help. (I remember a kid throwing bottles of water off a truck to hundreds of riders at the enormously crowded and badly managed first stop last year--kinda like feeding time at the koi pond.) I didn't need the second stop so I skipped it, and made it to the third stop quickly enough to get a turkey sandwich this year (last year I got two pieces of bread and a piece of cheese), which set me up for a strong second half of the ride. Kudos to the organizers for really having things sorted out this year.
I tagged along with a group of about a dozen riders, and we worked out the final twenty or so miles in good form. Despite the heavy wind at the outset of the ride, and the continual wind throughout the day, I managed to shave nearly an hour off my time from last year. Mrs. SockMonkey set a personal best as well, completing the 25 mile ride at a 12 mph clip.
So my century season has started, and in good form. I'm looking forward to the Reedley Blossom ride in a few weeks, and then the Solvang Century the following week, where I'll take on the full century for the first time.
Total time: 8.5 hours from start to finish
Ride time: 7:31
Miles: 102.9
Average: 13.6 mph
Climbing: 3472'
Morning came quick after the long drive to Palm Springs on Friday night. We got to the start area about 7:00, and Mrs. SockMonkey (who rode the 25 mile route) picked up our registration materials while I prepped the bikes.
 |
| One SockMonkey, strapped in and ready to roll. |
I rolled out at 7:30. Last year, the start dumped riders out onto the road in waves of 100 or so, and was a real mess. Clumps of riders at different speeds made for a messy first ten miles. This time, the organizers set up a start area on a less busy street, with faster riders starting earlier and slower riders later. I shot for the middle group, not because I'm middle-fast, but because being slow means taking all day for the ride. I'm not sure if there were fewer riders (I believe that that was the case, or if the organizers' strategy was a success, but the result for me was a very smooth roll-out. And then, almost immediately, the crosswind hit. In a very big way. There was a pretty steady wind all day that I would guess was between 5 and 15 mph, and when I started, there were gusts of what I would guess were up to 25 mph or so (I'm not an expert, but flags were standing straight out and made a sharp snapping noise as they withstood the wind).
 |
| Note to self: Where one finds windmills, one must expect wind. |
Riding in this crosswind, at 90 degrees to my direction of travel, was the scariest thing I've ever done on a road bike: Leaning into the wind, having the wind rise and fall suddenly as cars passed by upwind, getting pelted with sand, riding past an open trench downwind, and negotiating a narrow path between traffic and the curb was flat-out frightening for the first five miles or so. Then we turned directly into the wind and crept forward at 5 mph for another five miles that seemed to take forever. I saw more than a few riders bailing on the course, and it struck me that I was going to have to label this post "Tour de Palm Springs 2012: FAIL." But I stuck it out and once the route exited the valley and got into the foothills, things became more manageable.
One of the byproducts of the wind was a very fast transit down Dillon Road. Really fast. Like 30+ mph fast with minimal effort. Very cool, and hard earned during the first miles of the ride.
 |
| The view along Dillon Road. Wind to the rear, and making good time as the scenery whizzes by... |
The rest of the ride was pretty much uneventful. The rest stops were vastly improved over last year, with much attention to organization and lots of friendly help. (I remember a kid throwing bottles of water off a truck to hundreds of riders at the enormously crowded and badly managed first stop last year--kinda like feeding time at the koi pond.) I didn't need the second stop so I skipped it, and made it to the third stop quickly enough to get a turkey sandwich this year (last year I got two pieces of bread and a piece of cheese), which set me up for a strong second half of the ride. Kudos to the organizers for really having things sorted out this year.
 |
| First rest stop. Each of the stops included loads of helpful volunteers and live music. |
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| Small things make all the difference: The turkey and cheese sandwich at mile 50. |
I tagged along with a group of about a dozen riders, and we worked out the final twenty or so miles in good form. Despite the heavy wind at the outset of the ride, and the continual wind throughout the day, I managed to shave nearly an hour off my time from last year. Mrs. SockMonkey set a personal best as well, completing the 25 mile ride at a 12 mph clip.
So my century season has started, and in good form. I'm looking forward to the Reedley Blossom ride in a few weeks, and then the Solvang Century the following week, where I'll take on the full century for the first time.
Total time: 8.5 hours from start to finish
Ride time: 7:31
Miles: 102.9
Average: 13.6 mph
Climbing: 3472'
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Interlude
I just noticed that it's been over two months since my last post. With the blog, as with the bike, it's important to train up for a new season, so, with the new organized ride season just about to kick off, here's an update.
Riding during the winter presents a new set of challenges. Winters in Central California are mild, with the greatest challenges being fog (and valley fog can be pretty thick) and the occasional bit of rain. Dressing for winter rides has been a learning process in general. Last year, I struggled with keeping warm on the bike, and found that a pair of light long-fingered gloves, a cycling cap, and a jacket with a high collar was the ticket. This year, the very warm winter this year has led to the need for a different approach, since rides that would start out at 40 degrees in the morning would end up at 65 by early afternoon. After much consideration, I finally tried the arm warmer and vest strategy. To my surprise, it's been highly successful, and I'll be interested to see if it holds up in colder weather (for this area, that means between 30 and 40 degrees). The gear of choice for me is a set of Garneau Wind Arm Warmers and Vent 2 vest. I really like Garneau gear; it seems to fit my hard-earned reverse taper (tm) body shape pretty well.
With the warm winter season, there's been little reason not to ride, so I've logged some pretty good miles in the routes around town and into the foothills. A lot of these areas look like this:
The photos were taken on Yokohl Valley Road, headed toward Springville. What is apparent in both photos if you look is the craters of the moon road surface that tests both rear end and also wrists. Gotta love those farm/ranch roads.
One of the locals took the time to paint a bit of inspiration on a local climb:
Something kinda cool to look at while pedaling uphill at 5 mph.
And I also discovered a challenging climb up Highway 245 from Elderwood to Badger that offers a mid-route stop at Mountain House Saloon. Perfect location for a gargantuan chili size....
The rider in the photo is a former student of mine who has just taken up riding, and we've covered quite a few miles together since Thanksgiving. It took me three years to conquer routes that he's completing in a month. I hate him. Two weeks ago, we took on an 82-mile ride that included the excitement of five separate dog chases, involving close to a dozen dogs. Most were short spurts with mini-dogs in pursuit, but the last one was a serious bit wherein two dogs used a particularly cunning strategy: one dog crossed the road a couple times to get our attention, and then sat on the side of the road demurely while we pedaled by--then his partner barreled out of the bushes just as we crossed his path and gave serious and frenzied chase (head down and snarling) for a couple hundred feet. In three years of riding, I'd been chased by four dogs, and only once in a serious way. In the past two months since I've been riding with this guy, we've been chased on most of our rides. It follows naturally, then, that his team name is Dog Magnet.
On December 31, I rode the metric route for Ride for Life in Santa Clarita. One of the perks for the ride was being able to ride with George Hincapie. I did see him from a distance, and I can say that we rode parts of the same route, but it would be pressing truthfulness to say that we "rode together." The route was challenging but enjoyable, with over 4000' of climbing and strong head and crosswinds. The rest stops, however, were the weakest I've ever seen, with do-it-yourself peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, packets of Gu, and water and only one portajohn per stop. Weakweakweak. Also of note: All of the riders received timing chips, and, as a result, I now have scientific proof that I am Slow.
So: the Tour de Palm Springs is two weeks away. I'm pretty stoked about getting in my first century of the year. I've ridden this twice, one time each for the metric and the century. The terrain is beautiful in a high desert way (the wife thinks it's kinda ugly), there will be a huge number of riders (good and bad, but always entertaining), and the route is pretty gentle and ideal for an early season century.
And I've got to remember to register for the Wine Country Century this week. Missed it last year because I forgot to mark my calendar, and that can't happen this year! I rode the metric two years ago, and it covered some of the prettiest riding that I've ever seen. The Santa Rosa Cycling Club's Ten Great Rides page is one of the things that got me into riding, and the rides pack in a lot of value. If you live near Sonoma County and haven't given some of these roads a shot, these rides warrant five monkeys and are highly recommended! The routes are spectacular, and the route descriptions are brilliant. The wife and I have done the Dry Creek, Alexander Valley ride multiple times, which goes right by the official SockMonkey winery at mile 26, Ridge'sLytton Springs Vineyard, a destination worthy of a visit in its own right.
Riding during the winter presents a new set of challenges. Winters in Central California are mild, with the greatest challenges being fog (and valley fog can be pretty thick) and the occasional bit of rain. Dressing for winter rides has been a learning process in general. Last year, I struggled with keeping warm on the bike, and found that a pair of light long-fingered gloves, a cycling cap, and a jacket with a high collar was the ticket. This year, the very warm winter this year has led to the need for a different approach, since rides that would start out at 40 degrees in the morning would end up at 65 by early afternoon. After much consideration, I finally tried the arm warmer and vest strategy. To my surprise, it's been highly successful, and I'll be interested to see if it holds up in colder weather (for this area, that means between 30 and 40 degrees). The gear of choice for me is a set of Garneau Wind Arm Warmers and Vent 2 vest. I really like Garneau gear; it seems to fit my hard-earned reverse taper (tm) body shape pretty well.
With the warm winter season, there's been little reason not to ride, so I've logged some pretty good miles in the routes around town and into the foothills. A lot of these areas look like this:
 |
| Classic San Joaquin Valley rural foothill road scenery. |
One of the locals took the time to paint a bit of inspiration on a local climb:
Something kinda cool to look at while pedaling uphill at 5 mph.
And I also discovered a challenging climb up Highway 245 from Elderwood to Badger that offers a mid-route stop at Mountain House Saloon. Perfect location for a gargantuan chili size....
The rider in the photo is a former student of mine who has just taken up riding, and we've covered quite a few miles together since Thanksgiving. It took me three years to conquer routes that he's completing in a month. I hate him. Two weeks ago, we took on an 82-mile ride that included the excitement of five separate dog chases, involving close to a dozen dogs. Most were short spurts with mini-dogs in pursuit, but the last one was a serious bit wherein two dogs used a particularly cunning strategy: one dog crossed the road a couple times to get our attention, and then sat on the side of the road demurely while we pedaled by--then his partner barreled out of the bushes just as we crossed his path and gave serious and frenzied chase (head down and snarling) for a couple hundred feet. In three years of riding, I'd been chased by four dogs, and only once in a serious way. In the past two months since I've been riding with this guy, we've been chased on most of our rides. It follows naturally, then, that his team name is Dog Magnet.
On December 31, I rode the metric route for Ride for Life in Santa Clarita. One of the perks for the ride was being able to ride with George Hincapie. I did see him from a distance, and I can say that we rode parts of the same route, but it would be pressing truthfulness to say that we "rode together." The route was challenging but enjoyable, with over 4000' of climbing and strong head and crosswinds. The rest stops, however, were the weakest I've ever seen, with do-it-yourself peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, packets of Gu, and water and only one portajohn per stop. Weakweakweak. Also of note: All of the riders received timing chips, and, as a result, I now have scientific proof that I am Slow.
So: the Tour de Palm Springs is two weeks away. I'm pretty stoked about getting in my first century of the year. I've ridden this twice, one time each for the metric and the century. The terrain is beautiful in a high desert way (the wife thinks it's kinda ugly), there will be a huge number of riders (good and bad, but always entertaining), and the route is pretty gentle and ideal for an early season century.
And I've got to remember to register for the Wine Country Century this week. Missed it last year because I forgot to mark my calendar, and that can't happen this year! I rode the metric two years ago, and it covered some of the prettiest riding that I've ever seen. The Santa Rosa Cycling Club's Ten Great Rides page is one of the things that got me into riding, and the rides pack in a lot of value. If you live near Sonoma County and haven't given some of these roads a shot, these rides warrant five monkeys and are highly recommended! The routes are spectacular, and the route descriptions are brilliant. The wife and I have done the Dry Creek, Alexander Valley ride multiple times, which goes right by the official SockMonkey winery at mile 26, Ridge'sLytton Springs Vineyard, a destination worthy of a visit in its own right.
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