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.

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. 

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.