RudAwkning
04-19-2009, 03:02 PM
Holy ****. This is one Łucked up double. I still can't believe I finished.
This was my 3rd double this month. Solvang Spring on the fixed gear and the 24hr 380km fleche last week. We also threw in a fixed gear century in between those to for good measure. I didn't think that I'd recover in time so I asked my friend and Quackcyclist, Alfie, if I could SAG the official DMD and do the staff ride the following weekend. He got me a hall pass and everything was set. I'd have an extra week to recover. But by Wednesday, the legs were feeling pretty good and I'd decided to at least consider the official ride. By Friday I was in for sure.
So onto the ride report.
I feel OK going up Diablo. Certainly not my fastest time, but certainly not beat. I tell myself "If things go this well, this ride won't be so bad". Famous last words. I see friend and Fleche team mate Tim Houcke at the top and say hello. Then I make my decent and head on to Morgan Territory. But by the mid-point of the second climb I'm dumped all the way down to my 30/29. Uh-oh. I've made it up this thing on my fixed gear before. This is not a good sign. I'm already running on fumes and not even 50 miles into the ride. Quick pitstop at the summit. The next 30 up Altamont and Patterson aren't much easier. A nice tailwind makes Altamont a near zero effort climb but Patterson really puts the screws to me. I've never been on either of these roads so I have no mental landmarks. It's on this climb that I run into Doug, SAG extraordinnaire, whom I'd met on the Solvang double. He pulls over, we exchang a few words and laughs, and off I go to finish the climb. I'd see Doug several more times this day.
I'm churning along, feeling pretty good about making the Mines Road cutoff at 1:00. And I do. Barely. 12:40. Chat with Doug again, top off the bottles and make the 26 mile journey up Mines Road. What's funny is I'd done Mines 7 weeks earlier. It didn't feel that hard then. Today I get to "enjoy the scenery" a little more. The next and last cutoff is The Junction at 4:00. I roll in at 3:40. I'm suffering both elation and anger. "ŁUCK. Now I HAVE to finish this thing." I must have spent a solid 25 minutes at that rest stop, hamming it up with the Quacks. Also inhaled a BBQ pulled pork sandwich.
Next up, backside Hamilton. I look at my route sheet before rolling out. 18 miles til the summit. I turn to an anonymous rider next to me and say "18 miles? That's just dumb". He laughs. I decide my MP3 player would be a good thing at this point. I'd recently uploaded the latest offerings from The Doves and UNKLE so I've got some fresh tunes to keep me going.
I'm rolling along at a decent pace. Then the climbing starts. I immediately dump my gears. "Hello grandma". I'd be spending a lot of time with granny today. Up, up and more up. I'm tired at this point. Not just fatigue but exhaustion. The sun is pounding me. I have no legs. The climb won't end. Here's where I start to breakdown mentally. Usually when I'm having a rough time of a ride I just start telling myself "What the Łuck am I doing out here? This is retarded. Just get to the top you pussy." Today I was actually rationalizing "outs".
- I'm not having fun anymomre. It's time to quit.
- If I summit Hamilton, I'll still have made a good showing
- I'm on my third and hardest double in 4 weeks.
- At least I started. 2 of my friends DNS'd
- I hear most in-experienced folks DNF DMD the first time
- There's always next year
- etc.
The head Quack pulls up next to me as I'm leaning over my bike. He asks me how I'm doing. I reply with a smile "as well as I can be, all things considered". He doesn't ask me if I can finish. If he had, I may have jumped in his car. "You're almost to the top" he says.
I continue to grind on. the last 2-3 miles is the worst. I'm still thinking about quitting. Doug pulls up along side me. "You're looking good!". "I don't suppose you'll let me DNF at this point?". "Hell no!" he replies. Damn me for asking and not demadning.
I reach the rest stop and sprint in. I Łucking made it. I immediately feel better. They top off my bottles and I down 2 V8s. A few of the SAG team are admiring my bike. Just having a normal conversation with them seemed to help quite a bit as well. I feel re-focused and re-vitalized.
I climb the last mile and start the descent down Hamilton. 16 miles down is a quick right turn. It turns out to be a 1/2 mile of pretty steep bumps. Geez! Even the detours to rest stops are laden with climbing! I pull into a driveway marked for DMD. I see many familiar faces. There are about 12 riders there. But more importantly, there are Cup O Noodles. I ingest 2 and a strawberry/orange popscicle. I see one kid in a Webcor kit who I recall from the top or Morgan. He looks banged up. "You went down?" I ask. Apparently he washed out in some gravel on the decent, bot banged up pretty bad, and sliced open his finger. I figure he's done for the day. I put on my knee and arm warmers and roll out with a fellow I'd met on Knoxville and his buddy. We make a fast paceline to Sierra. I don't know why we're in such a hurry :P
Sierra is steep. Stupidly steep. Like "Just because God put a hill there, doesn't mean you have to carve a pathway over it" steep. Within the first few yards my left thigh seizes up. My first cramp of the day. I'd spend the next 4 miles on and off the bike nursing the stupid thing. I probably walked a good mile of it. About halfway up, Doug pulls along side. he sees me hoofing it. "You OK?" he asks? "Cramp" I reply. "What can I do for you?" he asks. I tell him he can ride my bike to the finish and I'd take his van. "I'll even let you use my bib!" He politely refuses my offer. "Do you have a V8?" I ask. "I've got 3 in my personal stash but you can have them". Sweet. I drink one and pocket the other. Then continue to "Pet-The-Goat" rest stop.
I summit, descend a bit and make it to The Goat. And it's an honest to God goat. That you can pet. With your hands. ***? Well, instead of re-hydrating and refueling, the first thing I do is pet the Łucking goat. It starts bucking and nipping at me. The owner says, "Alto's got a horn infection. Scratch him on his back". The goat's name is Alto. Awesome. This is surreal. It's the middle of the night and I'm petting a goat named Alto at the crest of the dumbest hill I've ever walked. I bet Alto could have climbed Sierra faster than me. I'm hungry. I wonder how Alto tastes?
I see the Webcor/crash guy again. He's still riding?! We introduce ourselves. His name is Bernard. I'm gassed and he's injured so we decide to ride together. Little did I know that his girlfriend was SAG. This was especially cool since she tailgated us almost all the way home. I felt like I was riding FC508! Personal SAG treatment. How cool. Next stop? Sunol!
We pull into the last rest stop. My friends Alfie and Lisa are waiting for me. They somehow knew I'd make it. I didn't. They have a hot cup of Miso soup waitng for me. It's soooooooooo good. I have another. And 2 hot dogs. I sit (out of the saddle anyway) for the first time since lunch. It feels good. I know my legs might get stiff but i don't give a Łuck. I'm sitting. I ask Doug one last time if I can DNF. His response is the same. I guess I'm riding out the last 25 miles.
We all take our time at this stop. The vibe is good. My friends are encouraging. The music is thumping. It's almost like a big group of people camping out. I see another guy I'd been leapfrogging along the way in an Eden kit. I ask him where his friend is. "His wife came and they decided he should quit." He'd been having GI issues for the last 4 hours. I feel really bad. He only had 26 to go. It was his first time too. They were parked a block away. I wish that he'd come over to the Sunol stop. It would have probably rejuvenated him.
Well, enough tossing about. Let's finish this. I'm committed at this point (or should be committed). Bernard, "Eden guy" and myself all make the last 2 climbs with our personal SAG vehicle in tow. We hit Palomares. We're all in our lowest gear. We're all grinidng. Bernard tells me that when he gets to this point of the ride, he likes to call it "The Suffering". We make the chilly descent and then hit Crow Canyon followed by Norris Canyon. Last Climb! Up some more. We're supposedly 2 miles from San Ramon yet we can't see any city lights. Things level out. I think I can see a crest. I yell out and sprint to it. Sweet RELIEF. The ride is nearly OVER. We bomb down the other side of Norris Canyon. I have a huge "**** eating" grin on my face. Every yard that we roll is a yard closer to home.
We pull into the parking lot and make our way to he final checkpoint. I see Alfie, Lisa, Doug, Dan and all of the other Quackers. They applaud us as we enter. "Team DFL!" I yell out. Alas no, there are still 2 more riders on the road. But I'd have gladly worn that DFL as a badge of honour. There's spaghetti to be had. MMMmmmm. Best pasta ever. And sparkling cider. We all hang out a bit. Bernard and I trade info. We'll see each other in 3 weeks on the Central Coast Double.
My final time? 21 hours and 40 minutes. My longest double time by nearly 6 hours.
My advice to anyone who's going to try and make a trifecta of doubles in a single month? Don't. And if you do, don't make the last one the hardest. But if you do, make sure you ride a 24 hour Fleche the week before. Because no matter how long it takes you to do the third, it won't take as long as the ride the week before!
cheers all,
RudAwkning
PS. Sorry for the rambling style of prose. My brain is pudding.
This was my 3rd double this month. Solvang Spring on the fixed gear and the 24hr 380km fleche last week. We also threw in a fixed gear century in between those to for good measure. I didn't think that I'd recover in time so I asked my friend and Quackcyclist, Alfie, if I could SAG the official DMD and do the staff ride the following weekend. He got me a hall pass and everything was set. I'd have an extra week to recover. But by Wednesday, the legs were feeling pretty good and I'd decided to at least consider the official ride. By Friday I was in for sure.
So onto the ride report.
I feel OK going up Diablo. Certainly not my fastest time, but certainly not beat. I tell myself "If things go this well, this ride won't be so bad". Famous last words. I see friend and Fleche team mate Tim Houcke at the top and say hello. Then I make my decent and head on to Morgan Territory. But by the mid-point of the second climb I'm dumped all the way down to my 30/29. Uh-oh. I've made it up this thing on my fixed gear before. This is not a good sign. I'm already running on fumes and not even 50 miles into the ride. Quick pitstop at the summit. The next 30 up Altamont and Patterson aren't much easier. A nice tailwind makes Altamont a near zero effort climb but Patterson really puts the screws to me. I've never been on either of these roads so I have no mental landmarks. It's on this climb that I run into Doug, SAG extraordinnaire, whom I'd met on the Solvang double. He pulls over, we exchang a few words and laughs, and off I go to finish the climb. I'd see Doug several more times this day.
I'm churning along, feeling pretty good about making the Mines Road cutoff at 1:00. And I do. Barely. 12:40. Chat with Doug again, top off the bottles and make the 26 mile journey up Mines Road. What's funny is I'd done Mines 7 weeks earlier. It didn't feel that hard then. Today I get to "enjoy the scenery" a little more. The next and last cutoff is The Junction at 4:00. I roll in at 3:40. I'm suffering both elation and anger. "ŁUCK. Now I HAVE to finish this thing." I must have spent a solid 25 minutes at that rest stop, hamming it up with the Quacks. Also inhaled a BBQ pulled pork sandwich.
Next up, backside Hamilton. I look at my route sheet before rolling out. 18 miles til the summit. I turn to an anonymous rider next to me and say "18 miles? That's just dumb". He laughs. I decide my MP3 player would be a good thing at this point. I'd recently uploaded the latest offerings from The Doves and UNKLE so I've got some fresh tunes to keep me going.
I'm rolling along at a decent pace. Then the climbing starts. I immediately dump my gears. "Hello grandma". I'd be spending a lot of time with granny today. Up, up and more up. I'm tired at this point. Not just fatigue but exhaustion. The sun is pounding me. I have no legs. The climb won't end. Here's where I start to breakdown mentally. Usually when I'm having a rough time of a ride I just start telling myself "What the Łuck am I doing out here? This is retarded. Just get to the top you pussy." Today I was actually rationalizing "outs".
- I'm not having fun anymomre. It's time to quit.
- If I summit Hamilton, I'll still have made a good showing
- I'm on my third and hardest double in 4 weeks.
- At least I started. 2 of my friends DNS'd
- I hear most in-experienced folks DNF DMD the first time
- There's always next year
- etc.
The head Quack pulls up next to me as I'm leaning over my bike. He asks me how I'm doing. I reply with a smile "as well as I can be, all things considered". He doesn't ask me if I can finish. If he had, I may have jumped in his car. "You're almost to the top" he says.
I continue to grind on. the last 2-3 miles is the worst. I'm still thinking about quitting. Doug pulls up along side me. "You're looking good!". "I don't suppose you'll let me DNF at this point?". "Hell no!" he replies. Damn me for asking and not demadning.
I reach the rest stop and sprint in. I Łucking made it. I immediately feel better. They top off my bottles and I down 2 V8s. A few of the SAG team are admiring my bike. Just having a normal conversation with them seemed to help quite a bit as well. I feel re-focused and re-vitalized.
I climb the last mile and start the descent down Hamilton. 16 miles down is a quick right turn. It turns out to be a 1/2 mile of pretty steep bumps. Geez! Even the detours to rest stops are laden with climbing! I pull into a driveway marked for DMD. I see many familiar faces. There are about 12 riders there. But more importantly, there are Cup O Noodles. I ingest 2 and a strawberry/orange popscicle. I see one kid in a Webcor kit who I recall from the top or Morgan. He looks banged up. "You went down?" I ask. Apparently he washed out in some gravel on the decent, bot banged up pretty bad, and sliced open his finger. I figure he's done for the day. I put on my knee and arm warmers and roll out with a fellow I'd met on Knoxville and his buddy. We make a fast paceline to Sierra. I don't know why we're in such a hurry :P
Sierra is steep. Stupidly steep. Like "Just because God put a hill there, doesn't mean you have to carve a pathway over it" steep. Within the first few yards my left thigh seizes up. My first cramp of the day. I'd spend the next 4 miles on and off the bike nursing the stupid thing. I probably walked a good mile of it. About halfway up, Doug pulls along side. he sees me hoofing it. "You OK?" he asks? "Cramp" I reply. "What can I do for you?" he asks. I tell him he can ride my bike to the finish and I'd take his van. "I'll even let you use my bib!" He politely refuses my offer. "Do you have a V8?" I ask. "I've got 3 in my personal stash but you can have them". Sweet. I drink one and pocket the other. Then continue to "Pet-The-Goat" rest stop.
I summit, descend a bit and make it to The Goat. And it's an honest to God goat. That you can pet. With your hands. ***? Well, instead of re-hydrating and refueling, the first thing I do is pet the Łucking goat. It starts bucking and nipping at me. The owner says, "Alto's got a horn infection. Scratch him on his back". The goat's name is Alto. Awesome. This is surreal. It's the middle of the night and I'm petting a goat named Alto at the crest of the dumbest hill I've ever walked. I bet Alto could have climbed Sierra faster than me. I'm hungry. I wonder how Alto tastes?
I see the Webcor/crash guy again. He's still riding?! We introduce ourselves. His name is Bernard. I'm gassed and he's injured so we decide to ride together. Little did I know that his girlfriend was SAG. This was especially cool since she tailgated us almost all the way home. I felt like I was riding FC508! Personal SAG treatment. How cool. Next stop? Sunol!
We pull into the last rest stop. My friends Alfie and Lisa are waiting for me. They somehow knew I'd make it. I didn't. They have a hot cup of Miso soup waitng for me. It's soooooooooo good. I have another. And 2 hot dogs. I sit (out of the saddle anyway) for the first time since lunch. It feels good. I know my legs might get stiff but i don't give a Łuck. I'm sitting. I ask Doug one last time if I can DNF. His response is the same. I guess I'm riding out the last 25 miles.
We all take our time at this stop. The vibe is good. My friends are encouraging. The music is thumping. It's almost like a big group of people camping out. I see another guy I'd been leapfrogging along the way in an Eden kit. I ask him where his friend is. "His wife came and they decided he should quit." He'd been having GI issues for the last 4 hours. I feel really bad. He only had 26 to go. It was his first time too. They were parked a block away. I wish that he'd come over to the Sunol stop. It would have probably rejuvenated him.
Well, enough tossing about. Let's finish this. I'm committed at this point (or should be committed). Bernard, "Eden guy" and myself all make the last 2 climbs with our personal SAG vehicle in tow. We hit Palomares. We're all in our lowest gear. We're all grinidng. Bernard tells me that when he gets to this point of the ride, he likes to call it "The Suffering". We make the chilly descent and then hit Crow Canyon followed by Norris Canyon. Last Climb! Up some more. We're supposedly 2 miles from San Ramon yet we can't see any city lights. Things level out. I think I can see a crest. I yell out and sprint to it. Sweet RELIEF. The ride is nearly OVER. We bomb down the other side of Norris Canyon. I have a huge "**** eating" grin on my face. Every yard that we roll is a yard closer to home.
We pull into the parking lot and make our way to he final checkpoint. I see Alfie, Lisa, Doug, Dan and all of the other Quackers. They applaud us as we enter. "Team DFL!" I yell out. Alas no, there are still 2 more riders on the road. But I'd have gladly worn that DFL as a badge of honour. There's spaghetti to be had. MMMmmmm. Best pasta ever. And sparkling cider. We all hang out a bit. Bernard and I trade info. We'll see each other in 3 weeks on the Central Coast Double.
My final time? 21 hours and 40 minutes. My longest double time by nearly 6 hours.
My advice to anyone who's going to try and make a trifecta of doubles in a single month? Don't. And if you do, don't make the last one the hardest. But if you do, make sure you ride a 24 hour Fleche the week before. Because no matter how long it takes you to do the third, it won't take as long as the ride the week before!
cheers all,
RudAwkning
PS. Sorry for the rambling style of prose. My brain is pudding.