To be honest, I already called the event “been there, done that” and had no plan to return. I was pretty happy with how I rode last year. Knowing that I had given the ride pretty much all I had, I would not expect any dramatic improvement in the future… unless suddenly some day, I win lottery AND gain enough self-discipline to ride all the time, but that will never happen in a million years.

But how could I ride this one differently from last year (otherwise, what’s the point of doing it again)? Oh, I got an idea! See, last year, not knowing what to expect on the course, I brought all my own food and did not take even a Gu or a bar from the course support. I didn’t even bother taking a glance at their food trays. For that reason, I ate scarcely. And being anxious about not getting caught in the afternoon storm, I refilled only twice on the ride and relied on the two bottles of water to last me long ways. Even though I made good times, in the end I was dehydrated and feeling weak. This time… I would rely solely on the course meals, drink more water and refill whenever one bottle had gone dry, and even bring my camera!

As for doing it with Erik, well, that would not change anything because when I asked Erik, “Do you think we should stick together?” He shook his head and said “no”, just what I wanted to hear. Accustomed to riding single file, we are never the chatty type while riding. On self-supported rides, we do make sure to regroup when necessary, but neither of us sees such necessity on a ride like this. From our last weekend’s riding in the Eastern Sierra, we both had expected that I would be a little stronger than him, but as it turned out, I couldn’t ditch him even if I had wanted to.  At the beginning, we both were fresh and I never really pulled away from him. Plus, he was a faster descender than me (even though I was not slow since I was passing a lot of people), so we traded leads a couple of times until the climb on the front side of the Ebbettes where I passed him and pulled away.  But then, he arrived at Hermit Valley station when I was rolling out. Again, he arrived at the lunch stop (where he didn’t break for lunch) just after I had my lunch and was ready to roll. On the gradual climb back to Turtle Rock, I stayed with a pace line, off of which he fell at one point. But again, he rode by the car without stopping where I was applying my third layer of sunblock. Last I saw him without having planned so was at the Woodfords station. Yep, I couldn’t ditch him even if I had wanted to! The only intentional wait was at Carson Pass. I wanted to have a picture of us together for the “historical” moment.

On the climb up to Carson, I felt strong. Having stayed fueled and hydrated was definitely showing the positive effect. Another pleasant change from last year was the lack of bone-numbing pain from the saddle. I was glad that I slammed my soft WTB Vigo MTB saddle on my road bike even though the tilt didn’t feel right because the saddle clamps were designed to use with a split saddle and the thick cushion probably looked goofy.

Overall, my total elapsed time was half an hour more than last year’s due to the more frequent and longer breaks (10.5 hours total this time). The riding time got reduced by about 15 minutes to 9 hours even according to Garmin Connect (compared to previous year’s data on Motionbased). Not much reduction there, as I said earlier, I did give pretty much all I had on last year’s ride.

Since I brought my camera, I made sure to take pictures while riding. Just like every other time, now that I’m back sitting in front of my computer, I wish I had taken more photos. For the photos below, hover the cursor on a photo to see descriptions and click to see the larger versions.

On the front side of Monitor Pass:

On the back side of Monitor Pass:

On the front side of Ebbettes:

On the back side of Ebbettes:

Carson Pass (from top down):

That’s all from me reporting from the Death Ride. … Oh, wait! I promised Patrick that there would be a food tasting report! That’s the only reason I’m writing this report! Not.

Carbo-loading at Hamdogs the night before:

Sampling of Course meals:

Even though I ate a big plate at the Death Ride dinner hall (Erik ate a little), when we got back to our room, we were both hungry. We were super happy to discover this gem, JT Bar & Dining Room, and loved our delicious dinner.

On Sunday’s drive back home, we stopped in Murphy and walked into Murphy’s Saloon right at 11:30am, when the FIFA World Cup final was starting and when we were feeling hungry. That meal lasted us a good 120+ minutes, an exciting 2+ hours for a 1-0 ending, an ending that made me cry just because one team, one nation, had to lose. Soccer is cruel. I’ll stick to cycling.

Now, a few goofy shots at Carson Pass Station:

I took a photo of every previous year’s Death Ride poster that hung in the dinner hall. Loved the artworks. See my album for those photos as well as other photos that did not make into this report. BTW, Erik just found out, by examining previous years’ posters, that his last Death Ride was in 1989!

Whew, that was a long report! Oh well, it was about my longest ride — not that I could help it!

P.S. For anyone reading, if you have a spare 30-year Anniversary Death Ride bug that we can buy, I would really appreciate it if you could contact us. We were bummed that they were sold out when we got to the registration and were told that they would not make more.

My GPS tracks: Garmin Connect, MTBGuru, Plus3Network (Note: why all 3 sites?)

Links:

• Our photo album for this trip (a lot more photos)
• My First Century — 2009 Death Ride
• Death Ride official website

– M: I’m getting off work around 6pm. After that, should I go to the Female Friday Fandango?  (Note: This is a monthly female MTB ride/gathering organized by Passion Trails Bike shop 5 minutes away from my work.)
– E: Sure. Go!
– M: But… if we are going somewhere this weekend, I probably should go home and pack.
– E: Right… (Brief pause) Yeah, go home and pack.
– M: Are we going somewhere? Where?
– E: We’ll go to the East side and do a few road climbs. What’s that toughest climb in California….  Onion Valley Road, I think?

Hmmm… I remembered now he had proposed this trip for my birthday this year, but I was more into mountain biking than into road riding and chose to stay local to do a couple of long MTB rides (Tour de Peninsula and pre-Solstic Coe 10k).  However, I didn’t have any MTB plans for this long weekend. My rear brake had been acting up. For the past three long rides, my rear tire went flat every time. I needed to figure out if there was anything wrong with my rim. And Erik’s bike was in a worse shape — it was in pieces and the suspension bearings needed to be replaced. Road riding sounded like a good idea. Still having work to do, I only had time to do a quick Google search on Onion Valley Road, and found this post from George’s Epic Adventures blog: The 10 Toughest Climbs in California. I printed it on paper to read on the road. In that blog post, he quoted John Summerson, the author of the book The Complete Guide to Climbing (by Bike) in California:

Most Difficult Climbs:

1) Onion Valley
2) Horseshoe Meadows
3) White Mountain
…
5) Whitney Portal
…

I got home at around 7pm and Erik at 7:30pm with two Burritos he picked up. At 8:30pm, Erik cranked the engine with me in the passenger seat and our two bikes and camping gear in the back. We got on our way. While packing, I thought about calling a couple of friends who could have been interested (Patrick and Alison, are you reading?), but an invitation so last minute would have sounded ridiculous and irritating. It has always been hard for us to plan activities with friends because we are not the planning type!

With a good audible book, The Help, playing from iTune Erik drove all the way to the East side. It was past 3:30am when we finally pitched our tent off Hwy 395 and we went to sleep just before 4am. It was too soon before I woke up feeling the warmth of the sun. 7:30am. I could have slept more, but it was getting too bright and too warm. The landscape revealed the two mountain ranges on both the east and the west sides of us, remote, vast, and majestic. I got excited. We packed up quickly.

Good coffee and a big breakfast were what we needed, and we got them at Alabama Hills Cafe and Bakery in Lone Pine. It was also the starting point of our ride.We would climb Horseshoe Meadows Road and Whitney Portal.

The rides in this area almost all start with a long stretch of gentle uphill on a straight road. We took it easy and played with the cameras we carried.

3.5 miles of riding finally led us to the start of Horseshoe Meadows Road, supposedly the 2nd toughest climb in California and 4th in the US. At the start, you can already see the switchbacks in a distance that snake up the mountain.

I pressed the lap button on my GPS and the climb officially started. There seems to be an unspoken rule that many of us subscribe to about hill climbs — you do not put a foot down unless you are about to keel over. That means you eat, drink, stretch, rest, and take photos while pedaling. That’s how the below photos were taken. (Hover the cursor over each photo to get the description and click for the larger version.) I settled in my own pace and gradually pulled away from Erik. While going up the switchbacks, I looked down whenever I could to look for him and whooped at him when I could see him.

Even though I read the print out from George’s post, I somewhat got the wrong impression that the climb was no more than 13 miles long (probably got it mixed up with Onion Valley road). So, when I saw that the lap distance went to 14, 15, and still kept going, I wondered if the God was playing a trick with me — what if the climb never ended? The gradient was quite friendly. However, there were a few hot spots in my feet that were hurting and the saddle was feeling too hard already (I hadn’t been riding my road bike for quite a while). Finally, when I reached a summit at about 16.4 miles, I almost called it victory (and almost put my foot down), but then I saw the next uphill section after a brief dip. It was not until 3+ mile later that road finally came to an end. That was a loooooooong climb! And now it was over. Whew!

After a while, Erik rolled in. We took a break, ate, refilled our water bottles, and took a few cheesy summit shots.

On our way back to the car, we stopped at a few places to snatch a few more shots.

It was hot when we got back to the car. The sun was at its full blast. The air conditioned stores and shops were very inviting. But the thought of not riding up Whitney Portal when we were right at the bottom of it did not come across my mind. We refilled our water bottles again (two each). At around 3:15pm, we were on our way again. This time, neither of us felt chipper. I took this photo (self portrait) while passing Erik on the way up Whitney Portal. We were hot and tired.

I  took this photo on the straight section. You can vaguely see the road zigzagged in the mountains.

As it turned out, it was a climb much harder than I expected. It was supposed to be rated ONLY the 5th toughest climb in California, 3 places behind Horseshoe Meadows Road, which we just completed. The heat definitely played a role. The climb only came into shade near the very top (last two miles) and even then, it was not continuous; otherwise, it was fully exposed in the sun and the breezes were rare to come by. The grade felt progressively harder. I remember looking down at GPS and kept seeing 11-13% gradient in the last five miles, and even though the grade eased off a tiny little bit near the top, the road surface got rougher, so it felt hard all the way. Two sentences were ringing in my ear constantly, “Inch by inch, I will get there.” (my own motto) and “Here is to sweat in your eye.” (Erik’s motto)

On this climb, I was happy to have my granny gear. All the effort was in pedaling that I did not take more photos until I got to the very top. I then took a break before riding down little ways to greet Erik who was really hurting on the climb. The heat really got to him. But he persevered.

At the summit, he dipped into the snow melt pool to wash away the sweat crust on his face. That must have felt good. Then a few summit shots were in order.

And guess what, a road that took me 2 hours to climb only took me 21 minutes to descend. That was a helluva fun descent! We so earned it. Another thing we earned would be a hearty meal. We asked the guy at the front desk of Whitney Portal Hostel, where we took a much needed shower ($5 each), where the Whitney Portal Store was since I read that their BBQ was supposed to be really good. I thought it should be next to the Hostel (same business owner). The guy pointed outside and said, “It’s about 15 miles up that road (Whitney Portal Road), and the store is right there.” Erik and I looked at each other knowing that we would not be having that BBQ today. But we did have a very satisfying dinner at Mt. Whitney Restaurant in Lone Pine.

Oh, earlier I mentioned that the heat got to Erik. It sure did! The new sports drink we brought (swag at Napa Valley Dirt Classic) did not work well for him and it upset his stomach. Plus, he had not been riding that much (mountain or road). When we got down, he dry heaved a bit, which scared me because I had never seen him like that before. With the shower and the dinner, he felt a little better. I was thankful that the heat exhaustion did not materialize into something worse. I was also exhausted when I went to sleep after 10pm. But I was too exhausted to fall asleep (this was nothing new) and it took me a long time to actually doze off. But then I was woken up frequently by the gusty wind flapping on our tent. I had hand washed our riding clothes (the other clothes we brought would be too warm for the weather) and had them hanged on the tent poles.  When we finally got up around 7am, I did not feel rested at all. However, I was very surprised that my legs were feeling fine. Actually, I ran (literally) back and forth multiple times between the restaurant and our car to fetch stuff and did not feel any soreness at all. Wow, last night’s dinner must have worked wonder.

We had our breakfast again at Mt Whitney Restaurant before we headed over to Independence, where the start of Onion Valley Road was. A little July 4th parade was happening, so we took a little tour of it. We were tourists after all.

The cattle guard, the official start of the climb, came shortly after we started. I pressed my lap button again. I told myself to take it easy since this is the “toughest” climb in California. While taking it easy, I took quite a few photos on the ride.

Having expected this climb to be tough, I made sure to settle in a pace that would neither tax my lungs nor tax my legs. I also wanted to leave plenty in my reserve in case we could fit White Mountain in our agenda later in the day. As it turned out, the entire climb was at a moderate grade. The road was designed such that it was not easy to tell where the road went when you look up from below, so it was a little easier psychologically. Before I knew it, I was close to the top, so I raised my pace a bit as you can see from this GPS profile.

As soon as I reached the top, I turned around to go meet Erik a short distance behind me. Here he is coming up only with about 1/4 miles to go.

It’s a habit now — summit shots:

Having done it, I probably would not call it the toughest climb I’d done (Whitney Portal felt harder), but it sure was one of the best climbs I had done. The view was spectacular on this climb. On the way down, we stopped to snatch a few more shots.

When we got back to the car, I asked Erik about White Mountain (it starts from Big Pine). He suggested we should end the day on a good note. Knowing that we needed to get back before Monday, I was not too heartbroken that we called it a day. Guess I would have been happy either way. So, we again showered and ate in Lone Pine. Feeling good, we walked around town and got ourselves some good coffee before we started our long drive back home. Lone Pine claims to be the home of Golden Eagles. I think we saw them.

It was really hot when we walked around in Lone Pine (mid-nighties at least). I guess I was happy that we were not riding then. Erik had to take a dive whenever he walked into the sun.

My GPS tracks:

• Horseshoe Meadows and Whitney Portal: Garmin Connect, MTBGuru, Plus3Network
• Onion Valley Road: Garmin Connect, MTBGuru, Plus3Network

(Note: why all 3 sites?)

Links:

• Our photo album for this trip (a lot more photos)
• Most Difficult Cycling Hill Climbs In The U.S. (from Ride-strong.com)
• George’s The 10 Toughest Climbs in California
• The five toughest stretches of road in the United States By John Summerson

Horseshoe Meadows and Whitney Portal: (71.1 mi/11367′)

Onion Valley Road: (27.3mi/5432′)

P.S. I had a discovery on these climbs — the ascent data on the GPS is rubbish! Think about it, on a climb, the total ascent should be equal to or greater than the altitude change, right? On these climbs, I kept glancing down at my GPS and found that the altitude change was much faster than the increase in the total ascent. No wonder Garmin connect and MTBguru both show greater total ascent numbers than that’s shown on the GPS. Rightly so!

P.P.S. Stats:
When my friend Alison and I talked about the perception of difficulties of these hill climbs (she said that she’s not convinced Mt Washington “is really harder than our tougher local climbs”), it got me curious. I put together below table for comparisons. The stats all came from my own GPS (Garmin Edge 305). As you can see, the total ascent (in feet) numbers are lower that those officially reported out there, but at least these numbers came from the same device, so the comparisons should be consistent.
. I suppose Onion Valley Road was the steepest (over all) of all three. It sure did not feel that way.

P.P.P.S. Oh, in case it was not obvious from my post, there is a water spicket at the top of each of these three climbs, although there was a hand written note taped to the one on the top of Onion Valley Road saying “Please boil the water before drinking.” There is at least one outhouse at the top as well.

Here we are, in Pescadero. What’s that big intersection we passed before we came into town? Cloverdale Rd. That’s right! Tour of California went that way. Maybe we should check it out.

Cloverdale Rd is a beautiful rolling path, and suddenly we are on Hwy 1 looking at the ocean. You know, I don’t think Bonny Doon is very far from here. Wanna check out that climb? Then we can turn around and go back home.

Wow, Bonny Doon is a long climb. There is never a pitch that’s really exciting (steep), and even the scenary along the road does not stand out (not like Sierra Rd or W. Alpine Rd). I wonder what the hype is about this climb.

This ride is starting to sound like a bad idea for taking these new riding shoes, cheapo shoes for that matter, out for the first time. Hot spots all over my feet. Oh, pain… But Erik says pain is all just part of the fun. Didn’t I drop him on Bonny Doon? Pffft! Good that there is wine tasting at the Bonny Doon/Pine Flat intersection. The wait was not bad at all.

Oh, now we hit Empire Grade Rd, and I have 40+ miles on my GPS. Hmmm… turn around or a loop? Well, a loop is always preferred over out&back.

Dang, this Hwy 9 does not seem to have an end. It just keeps going and going. I swear someone has moved that stop sign (@Hwy 35) on us!

Whee, the descent on W. Alpine makes me smile. I’m hungry, thirsty, and tired, but home is not far.

87.7 miles and 8000′+ feet later, I’m back home from our afternoon spin. Next time when Erik says let’s go for a short spin, I know what I should prepare myself for.

Oh, by the way, in case it’s not obvious, it was a helluva fun ride!

Update: Here is Erik’s ride report

Leading the Break Away.

Reeling Her In

The Chase

The Real Chase

See, last week on my solo ride, I cut the ride short after W. Alpine, OLH, Pescadero, and Stage, because I “was feeling a bit lonely and missed company.” Somebody up there must have heard me and sent me this message in the form of a forwarded email to a gym mailing list I’m on:

From: Jim xxxxxxx
Subject: Celebrity Cruise: South Bay

Matt, “(he thinks he’s good looking and all that),” Damon and his brother will be joining us on a South Bay ride on Sunday: closer to LA. They’ll be riding their Scattante carbon fiber tandem bling with their matching Performance jerseys and fabulous Forte footwear: can you say “HOT-T-T?” Matt promised no bad Jason Bourne kung-fu or kungfucious, and not to bring along his wretched wooden friend, Ben Afflack: – so this should be a good time. Matt also promised to buy us all artichoke, garlic-bread, Fritos, (if we agree to eat them off the oily pavement), and espresso in Pescadero: especially if we keep a tight paceline and don’t drop him.

Climb we shall young childrens: Start at Hwy 92 and Canada, – or the School in Woodside, – go up over the hill on Old La Honda and descend down 84 and back along the Pesky-dero race course to the land of Peskies. Then up to San Gregorio, and Tunitas Creek, and then descend down 92 to the cars.

Not too early, not too late, 9:30 AM sounds really great.

Don’t be shy, invite all of your friends, – Matt loves to chat….. RSVP to me as Matt is busy.. start times, start locations, negotiable……..

Well, a quick Google search shows pictures like this one:

(source)

Maybe he saw Cadel Evans’ tweet that “the ride to Peca[s]dero might make [his] list of all time best rides” and decided to give it a go himself?

The ride described is always a favorite of mine. But it was the artichoke garlic bread that sealed the deal. I’m in! My weekend would have been spent this way: Henry Coe Trail Work on Saturday and hanging out with Erik on Sunday, but now I had to change my plan to: hanging out with Erik on Saturday, and riding with Matt Damon on Sunday. (Sorry, Henry Coe!) I had to spend some time with Erik because otherwise he would have spent both days working, which would not be good for his health. I managed to drag him to the climbing gym for a couple of hours and later we went out for dinner.

After RSVP’ed with Jim, I learned that we were meeting at Woodside Elementary School at 10am. I left home at 9:12am on my bike. It was chilly, but the long gradual climb up Hwy 84 kept me warm before it took me over the hill and dumped me at the school just on time. People were rolling in, but there was no sign of Matt Damon. When the group was about to roll around 10:20am, still, no sign. I couldn’t help but notice that there were six guys wearing Dolce Vita Cycling kit and only another guy and I did not belong to the club. “What’s going on? Are we not waiting for Matt”

It’s a joke!!!

Jim sent the email only to the club mailing list and he obviously did not know how it was forwarded to somebody like me. On the other hand, as welcoming as he is, he never asked me “Who are you?”  I guess his teammates, knowing him well, got the joke. Not sure about that other outsider, but he, a strong climber on Old La Honda, split with the group at its top and was not seen again.

So, it’s a joke, eh?

I started pedaling still trying to digest this new knowledge. Disappointed? Yes, but I tried to remind myself that I was out here riding my favorite route on a beautiful day. Pretty soon, the disappointment wore off. The guys were all very strong. I hung with them well on the climbs. On the descent down Hwy 84 before turning left on Pescadero, they dropped me. I got smart though — After the Hastings Grade climb, I gave myself a head start and started descending without waiting for the entire group. That strategy worked well because the paceline caught me on the flats. As inexperienced a rider as I am, I still knew that if I got dropped by the group on the flats, I would not see them again until Pescadero and it would be a lot of hard work for me to ride by myself. So, I tagged on. I accelerated whenever they did. The five guys kept changing the formation of the paceline and sometimes even broke into two small groups. I just made sure I was on someone’s wheel. Not used to riding with a group (read: never), I really had to work at it, but I managed. The guys were extremely courteous to me too. I could tell that they kept looking back to make sure I was not dropped.  But sheesh, did’t these guys know that they were supposed to relax on flats? (Note: When I later told Erik about this, he said it was good for me to ride with guys like these because I needed to be pushed on flats. Guys, sometimes, I just don’t understand them!)

We had lunch in Pescadero. Jim did get two loaves of artichoke garlic break for the group, which were super delicious. Sipping my coffee and eating my Cinnamon roll, I was in heaven. But as soon as we got on Stage Rd, my legs felt heavy and post-heaven Blues set in. In that mood, I couldn’t help but feel sad that despite secretly considering myself a smart woman, I was fooled by such a joke. Where was my critical thinking? Why didn’t I raise any question? Sad, I was sad! As a Chinese saying goes, “Turn your grief into strength!” So, at St. Gregorio, when the guys decided to cut the ride short by turning right on to Hwy 84 to go straight back (only 8 miles of flat riding for me), I told them I would split there and ride up Tunitas — I had strength in me!

Each everyone of them is a stud!

It was the best weather condition for riding up Tunitas (I took the Lobitos Creek detour for extra scenery). When I reached the top, the sensible thing for me to do was turn right on Hwy 35 (Skyline Blvd) and just cruise down Hwy 84 home because I had run out of water (only had two bottles and did not refill) and my legs were sore. But, I had so much grief, no, strength, in me that I descended Kings Mountain Rd, and took Whiskey Hill, Sand Hill, Portola Valley Rd, Alpine Rd, and Arastradero, which led me to the base of Page Mill, a big climb by the local standards. By that time though, my grief had long worn out, along with it gone was my strength. But I was in a very cheerful mood even though my face might not have shown it. When it was not very steep, I enjoyed the easy pedaling. When I labored at the steep parts, I kept glancing down at my GPS every second happily observing the total elevation gain jumping up at a fast speed. At the bottom of Page Mill, it read 7800′, so I thought it had a good chance to break 10000′. I watched it grow. Kid you not, it broke 10000′ right at the summit of W. Alpine Rd before I started my final descent. I was filled with the sense of “Mission Accomplished.” Unfortunately, that sense did not help keep my body warm. Despite having every piece of clothing and fabric on my, I had a bone chilling descent. It took me 30 minutes of drinking hot drinks and eating hot food nonstop to make the shivers stop. Just then Erik walked in (from work). Hearing that I  did 94+ miles/11K’ of riding (48 miles solo), he thought I was a stud.

No, a stud is someone like Matt Damon. Thank you Matt for getting me out to do this ride without you even knowing about it! And, I have Jim to thank too!

(link to the page)

(link to the page)

Next time you are in Pescadero, seek out this bread at the market. It’s oh so delicious!

I elected Breast Cancer Foundation as the cause to support when I signed up. It’s a good cause. But I think next time they open up the changes, I’ll switch over to IMBA to support because it’s just a bit closer to my heart.

Erik went to Pinnacles to meet Brad for a winter ascent , a tradition that had gone on for more than a decade. Despite their invite, I figured they could spend the quality time alone and decided not to join them. It turned out they did have a third wheel, Phil, who was a pleasant company.

I, inspired by yesterday nice weather, planned on a long road ride. Up W. Alpine, down Page Mill, up Old La Honda East, down OLH west to La Honda Road (Hwy 84), up Hastings Grade to Pescadero, then Stage Road. By then, I was feeling a bit lonely and missed company. Plus, the weather was way too gray, so I took Hwy 84 and came home.  Nice thing about a ride that did not take whole day was the afternoon nap. zzzzzZZZZZ. It felt so good!

   The moment we woke up, we could see the blue sky through the skylight in our bedroom. It was going to be a nice day! In this bright sunshine and under the clear sky, we took in the beautiful view of the pine ridges on the Hastings Grade to Pescadero, the rolling hills on Stage Rd, the breaking waves on Hwy 1, and the blooming valley on Lobitos Creek Rd, etc.

I got flowers.

   Erik pointed out the blooming wild flowers to me along the way. They were oh so beautiful. And they were so many. Thank you, honey!

We dined out.

   At the deli in that market at Skyline and Hwy 84 junction, I ordered stir fried rice and chicken drumsticks and Erik ordered Lasagna served in Styrofoam lunch boxes. That was the best stir fried rice I had ever had! Yummy. (Be warned: do not just show up there hoping to have the best fried rice; you need to ride 45+ miles of hills first.)

We had serious fun together.

   Climbing up OLH at the end of the day, I started out right behind him, but half way up, I pulled up to his side trying to pass and he quickened his pace. The second half of the ride saw us huffing and puffing, struggling not to get dropped by the other person and not to let the other person get ahead. I thought to myself, “Bastard, just let me pass already!” And the bubble above his head clearly read, “Woman, back off. Let me catch my breath!” When we crossed the line at the top almost at the same time, we both were about to collapse. That was some serious fun there.

So, there you have it: we spent our Valentine’s Day doing a road ride on our favorite loop: Home -> Hastings Grade -> Pescadero -> Stage Rd -> St. Gregorio -> Stage Rd -> Tunitas Creek Rd -> Lobitos Creek Rd -> Tunitas Creek Rd -> Star Hill -> Swett Rd -> Skyline -> 84 -> Portola Rd -> Sand Hill -> OLH -> 84 -> Home.  (58.3 mi /  6658′)

P.S. He did bring me flowers home earlier, and he bought me a cute Life Is Good long sleeve T-shirt. Life is good!

World Champion Cadel Evans has this to say about the ride to Pescadero:

Dropping down to Pescadero, we witnessed the reminiscence of the recent winter storms.

Love is… I let you share a rocking chair with me.

A Ride Up Mt Lemmon and Back:

Online resources: Ride-Strong

Navigation: Follow Catalina Hwy/Mt Lemmon Hwy all the way.

Stats and Map (Click on Trip Details below the map for links to GPX & TCX and other files):
Distance (mi) 73.3
Elevation Range (ft) 2494 – 8365
Total Ascent (ft) 7774
Total Ascent Distance (mi) 31.9
Total Descent Distance (mi) 41.4

Mei’s Subjective Ratings (all out of 5 star system):
Overall Rating 4 stars (Great Scenery and nice road)
Technical Difficulty 1 stars
Aerobic Difficulty 3 stars
Grin Factor 3 stars (would be higher if I didn’t get so cold)

Photos: All are in this album

• Team Mud ‘n Crud had lunch at Ed’s Mudville Grill in Clayton, our turning around point on our out and back ride. Yummy!
• This was my second century ride ever after Death Ride.
• It was my first time riding up Mt Diablo. It was also my second time riding up Mt. Diablo.

Last Sunday, when Erik and Derek rode through Clayton, they saw Mudville. Erik said that we had to do a ride out there someday just so that we, the Mud ‘n Crud team, could eat at Mudville. And later in the week, Derek proposed we finish a century ride by end of the year. Here is where I came in: I realized I had become more and more grumpy recently because in the past month, I wasn’t able to do anything due to my unexplained ankle problem followed by a cold, so I had to get out ASAP.  How about a century ride this weekend that will lead us to Mudville for lunch mid-ride? Deal!

When Erik, Derek, and I started riding at 8:30am, it was overcast. Clouds above us acted as a blanket, so despite the rain on Friday, it was pleasantly not too cold. But the guys looked up and made a comment that Diablo was IN the clouds so it might be cold up there. I quietly threw the poncho in my stash. I received the poncho at the Death Ride but did not need to use it.

An hour and half later, we turned onto Diablo Scenic Blvd. My first ride up Diablo thus began (via the South Gate). The climb in the beginning was at a delightful grade that I was able to spin my middle chain ring comfortably. I started to wonder if I could stick to the middle ring the whole way up. Derek said he had done it before when he rode it fresh. After I turned on to Summit Road at the ranger station towards the summit (4.5 mi from the ranger station), I started to feel the effort in my legs. To shift, or not to shift? That was a question constantly popping up in my mind. Suddenly, the bike ghost-shifted — that’s right, it shifted down to my small chain ring without me doing anything! Well, that solved my dilemma. Also then, I had just climbed into the fog/clouds. Dark and wet, and precipitation was dripping down my helmet. My toes had gone completely numb and I was so cold that I didn’t want to wiggle them. My quads were burning and the overlapped straps from my shorts and leg warms were restricting the blood flow which aggravated the burn, but again, I was so cold that I didn’t feel like fumbling with it. And I was so cold that I didn’t even want to stand out of saddle occasionally just to change up the position a little. I laboriously spun my granny gear inching my way up. Earlier I could occasionally see Erik about 200 yards ahead of me, but he pulled away. I had heard of the final kick right before the summit and here I was at the bottom of it. Immediately, I felt the grade. With every stroke, I wondered if my quads (esp. in the left leg) were going to cramp; with every stroke, I wondered if I could manage the next stroke before tipping over; and with every stroke, I felt weaker. But then, I was at the top. I went straight to a vertical fence and leaned against it.  My vision almost blacked out. It took some sport drink, potatoes, dried fruits, and 10 minutes for me to feel normal again.

I was happy to have the Death Ride poncho with me, which Derek and Erik kept referring to as the plastic bag. I had to correct them multiple times. Despite having that extra layer, the descent was cold. I found myself filled with the pleasant (but more desperate) thoughts of hot coffee. That was a first thing we asked for when we arrived at Ed’s Mudville Grill. The food was yummy and the service was fast. We were in and out within 45 minutes. Time to return. We still had to re-trace the 50 miles to get back.

I dreaded climbing into that cold and wet fog again, and who knows, I might just really tip over this time on that very last hill. I was so close last time. After N. Gate, Erik and Derek got in a playful mode, and a couple of times in front a little hill, they would exchange a “friendly smile” as they called it and started to sprint for the crest like two rabbits. I watched them pull away, shook my head with a smile, and kept at my own rhythm. It was 6+ miles from the N. Gate to the ranger station. It was so long that I surprisingly caught up with Derek! The story about the rabbit and the tortoise flashed in my mind quickly. I think I spaced out when I rode by the ranger station and continued on UP. I must have because I was really planning on skipping that last out and back trip to the summit.  But there was not fog to turn me back though, not until the very top. This time, I remembered to keep wiggling my toes to keep them semi warm. I also remembered to push down my leg warmers a little so the elastic strap was not restricting me. I shifted down to my granny gear early on. I stood occasionally to flush out the burn in my quads. I actually felt good!

Erik stayed in front of me within a varying distance from 50 yards to 150 yards, but the closer to the top, the closer I got to him. I passed him right before the last hill. Wow! Then I dug deep. 1,2,3… I was counting the strokes in the back of my mind. This time, I didn’t even bother looking up to the top, which was a depressing sight anyway when you were still a distance away. I just knew that last time it took me somewhere around 60 strokes to finish the hill. That’s all I needed. 30, 31, 32… 58, 58, 60! I was at the summit, again!

The cold descent was even worse this time. I followed Erik down, who had the least layers. I watched his high speed shimmy in horror. It was only because he was shivering uncontrollably. I was not much better even with my plastic bag, no, my Death Ride poncho on. It’s amazing we survived that descent.

We did our last stretch of the ride in dark with the help of my little head lamp. When we got back to the cars, all of us had a huge grin.

I carried my camera with me, but I was so cold at the summit that it did not occur to me to take it out either time. But that’s okay. The goal of this ride was not to climb Diablo; the goal was to eat at Mudville.

The route (MapMyRide link):

Pleasanton Ridge Regional Park -> Foothill Rd-> R: Castlewood Dr -> L: Sunol -> L: Bernal Ave -> R: Main St -> C: Santa Rita Rd -> C: Tassajara Rd -> L: Tassajara Rd-> C: Camino Tassajara -> R: Blackhawk Rd -> R: Mt Diablo Scenic Blvd -> R: Summit Rd to Summit and return -> R: N. Gate Rd -> R: Oak Grove Rd -> R: Ygnacio Valley Rd -> R: Clayton Rd -> Ed’s Mudville Grill in Clayton.   Reverse the route to get back.

Stats: 101.2 miles ; 9362′ total ascent.

It was Derek’s idea to do this road ride. It’s goes from Pleasanton Reginal Park through Pleasanton, climbs to the top of Mt. Diablo via the South Gate, drops down through the North Gate, traverses east, climbs up Morgan Territory (9 miles of gradual climbing), drops down into Livermore, and eventually traverses back into Pleasanton.  Over all, Derek’s cycling computer showed 87.7 miles.

I would have ridden it with Erik and Derek if it had not be because of a cold.  It got ahold of me on Friday.  I used to subscribe to the theory that you can sweat a cold away, but in the past few years (after I grew old), I’ve found it not true. So, I decided to rest it off. It was not an easy decision because I’d been dying to get back on my bike since my weird ankle episode. It’s not fully recovered yet and feels a little unstable. Any jarring, as in what sometimes technical mountain biking does to the body, would be bad, but I was confident that with road biking, I could keep the motion of my ankle in control. But then, the cold! I stayed home on Saturday, and wanted to get out, so I told Erik that I would SAG when he and Derek rode.

It was really cold when we got up on Sunday. I was glad that I would not be riding. Shortly after we got to the park, the start of their ride, the sun came out and it looked really nice even though the air was still a bit crisp. I regretted that I could not ride.

After seeing them off, I went for a short hike (2-3 mi) at the park. At the beginning of the ride, I was wearing a puff jacket and fleace pants as an outer layer. A third way into the hike, I had to take them off. There were a lot of hikers enjoying the morning walk too. Every time I encountered a mountain biker, I looked at them enviously. Near the end of the hike, I started feeling a little sore in my ankle. Time to go.

I thought I had plenty of time, so I started out following their route on the local roads. But I first got lost and took a long detoure towards Livermore before turning back, then I had to stop to get gas where I saw Trader Joes. Perfect, I went in to pick up some lunch items. Oh, I should go to a coffee shop to get some coffee for Erik. Bet he would like it at the top of Diablo. After all that, I realized a lot of time had just passed, so I hopped on the highway to get to Diablo as fast as I could. I tried. Still they got there at least 15 minutes before I did. Lucky for me that they did not seem to mind and appeared to be happy to see me. There was a cheerful atmosphere hanging at the top of the Devil mountain.

After sending them off, I walked around as a tourist before dropping down the mountain only to stop at the intersection of Morgan Territory Rd and Marsh Creek Rd when I saw them chatting with two other cyclists, who seemed to need some directions back to Pleasanton for fear of running out of lights because it was already 2pm. Seeing one of them was on a recumbent, we suggested them go the most direct way — up and over Morgan Territory.  Off we all went. It took me half an hour to get to the top after 9 miles of driving. Considering it was a gradual climb and the guys already did 50+ miles, I took a hike down some trails and popped out on the road about 1 mile before the summit. That was about 70 minutes after I last saw them at the bottom. They should be coming by very soon. I sat down and started to read my book.  I waited and waited and waited, and nobody on a bicyle showed up. Okay, maybe I just missed Erik and Drek, but what about that guy on the recumbent? There is no way he could be fast, right? Oh wait a minute. It just dawned on me that those two guys had a strong European accent. Those Euros! They are beasts! It turned out to be true. When I hiked up the road to my car, and I found a headband hanging on my windshield wiper that belongs to Erik. And those Euros? I learned that they passed Erik and Derek half way up and they were not even breathing hard!

I jumped into the car thinking the only chance for me to redeem myself was to make it to the finish ahead of them. I got a call from Erik when I was still 10 minutes away. They were there already! Then I took a wrong turn (to be precise, I was rushing down Sunol Blvd that I missed the turn I had to take), which added even more delay. When I got back, my husband with his bare skinny legs was shivering in the chilly air while talking with Derek by his truck.

I think this is my last time SAGging (or attempting to SAG) for the good of all human beings.