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I was a late edition to the Whale Watchers group for the Fleche this year. It was to be a team of 5: Max Polento, Patrick Herlihy, Brian Koss, and Mike Gao. I knew everyone as I had ridden a few rides with all members. It was a good team: strong and entertaining. Perfect for a long ride. The ride up would be tight as the van that Brian rented would fit four comfortably. Then Mike announced that he couldn't go. Damn. I would really miss him. But he had other engagements that he couldn't break.
Max sent us the route and I noted that it was a mixed terrain ride. There was also a lot of Highway 1. At night. Those two items were a bit scary. I had ridden a mixed terrain ride before. Max's Marin Mountains 200K. I didn't think it would be to difficult but I did wonder about sleep deprivation. Twenty-four hours is a long time and riding the road, well, less margin for error.
I arrived at Patrick's house at 5:45 AM. The plan was for Patrick's wife to pick us up after the ride in San Francisco. Another option was for Patrick and I to ride back 30 odd miles to his house after the fleche. I didn't think that was a good idea and neither did Patrick. Brian arrived at 6:00 AM with the rented van. We would drive to Ukiah and drop of the van at Enterprise Vehicle Rentals. One way trip. We loaded the bicycles and our gear. I took what I hoped to be enough: shirt, shorts, arm & leg warmers and a good weight jacket. I also brought plenty of gu and bars for food in between the controls. I had a good assortment of tools also. These might not have been necessary as they were pretty weighty. Nevertheless, I felt everything I brought at the time was necessary. We drove to San Francisco and picked up Max at a street corner we had arranged to meet at. He was there with his bike ready to place it in the van.
The ride up was conversational, and soon we were arriving at Enterprise Rentals. We dropped off the van and rode to Safeway. I had discovered that I packed what I thought were 3 sets of gloves. Fingerless, medium warm and pretty damn warm. Fingerless, check. Medium warm, check. Pretty damn warm? No. I packed 1 pretty damn warm left glove and another left glove. I have too many gloves! And, it could get cold. Nothing I could do at this point.
We had arrived a bit early and were thinking of having a sit down breakfast but soon the time was eaten up. Finally we were on our ride heading up South State Street. Then Moore, then Eastside Clapella then Tomki. The roads got smaller and smaller and the scenery got more amazing. Patrick and Max at the front chatting away and Brian and I talking old cars, a subject we are both fond of. His dad used to work for Ford and had some stories to tell. Fascinating.
We then we turned a corner and soon we were on dirt. Canyon Road. We rode along and soon we stopped at a overturned, wrecked car. I didn't notice but Max had a flat. His rim strip was a series of strips of tape that would not bode well for him as the ride continued. Photos were taken. Glass was everywhere as the spent ammunition on the ground indicated a favorite target practice spot. Set 'em up on the wreck and shoot 'em down. Some bottles were still there unbroken. Max finished his flat repair and some application of duck tape as it looked like the spokes were coming through to pop the inner tube.
We continued on. We crossed 8 streams! We all had our feet wet by the time we got back to the pavement. The last crossing we were able to skirt the deepest part. Not Max. He plowed through the deepest part. Man was that deep! Soaked feet that lasted a bit longer than I cared for. Good idea I had wool socks. Ah, well. Back on pavement we rode along until Max had another flat. We pulled over and all teamed up to help.
We arrived in Willits and took the turn on Muir Lane. We couldn't seem to locate the Safeway. Max asked someone at a bookstore and found that it had moved three blocks down the road. So off we went to load up on food and water. We started to take off and Brian stopped us. He hurriedly put his stuff together and then we rode off. We started up Redwood Highway (US 101) and Brian stops. He has lost his jacket. Max goes back to find it as Brian fiddles with his back bag. We all go back and Max has found Brian's jacket. Tempers flair slightly as Max mentions that it isn't the first time Brian has lost something and Brian shoots back that he wouldn't of lost anything if he had time to pack up and go. We all settle down and get back on our way.
Somewhere on the highway Brian has a flat. We all gather to help get it fixed as soon as we can. We take off again. Also, Max has another flat. His second. He is suspecting his rim strip. Later he surmises that the water must have reeked havoc with the tape, pulling it up in spots and causing spokes to poke through.
Soon we are approaching Sherwood Road, the next dirt section. Twenty odd miles of it. And not the easy stuff. This has sharp pinch-flat rocks on it. A good climb at the beginning and near the top Patrick has a flat. We team up once again. And on we go. I am the only one who hasn't got a flat yet. As we head downhill, and there was a lot of downhill, I get my first flat. That make 5 flats! So much time gone because of it. We again team up and fix the flat. We are getting good at this.
We are on our way again. The riding is a bit taxing as downhills are equally as difficult as the uphills. I am trying to dodge sharp rocks constantly. A virtual mine field! I enjoy the climbs more than the downhills as I don't have to dodge rocks. After a while Max gets another flat. He is not happy. We stop once again and repair it. Patrick looks up a bike shop in Fort Bragg and Max calls it when we have reception. Max buys a Stan's rim strip over the phone and arranges for it to be left next door as they are open later. It works out well when we get to Fort Bragg. The dirt riding seemed to last forever. Just when you thought it was over, it went on some more. Finally we get on asphalt again. What a relief! So mentally draining. There were sections that we could go faster and the dirt did get better but I always had pinch flat in the back of my head.
We go to Fort Bragg and Max picked up his rim strip. We were all confident that the flats would end right here. It was 6:00 pm. It took us 8 hours to travel 72 miles. That was pretty awful time. We all wanted to eat and we all wanted to sit down at a restaurant, not a sandwich at Safeway. There was an Italian restaurant right next to the bike shop Max bought the rim strip at. It had a wall we could lean the bike up against inside while we watched them. Brian and I went up to get a table and Max and Patrick set to work on the rim strip. We dropped down a menu and Patrick and Max told us what they wanted and we ordered. While waiting I heard a really strange sound. Some sort of loud cracking. I asked Brian about it and he said it was Max putting on his rim strip, peeling off the rim strip. The sound echoed off the ceiling so I couldn't tell where it was from.
We ate a fine meal, relaxed a bit and then carried on. Safeway at Fort Bragg. Necessary items like food and water. Nothing would be open so it was imperative that we get food for the night. Sandwiches, bananas and water. We took off on a pace line down Highway 1. A 58 mile stretch of Highway 1. As we rode along the coast it was quite fun. We had our lights on and were plenty visible. Rolling roads with the occasional sound of the ocean was quite euphoric. We couldn't see the ocean or coastline at all but we knew it was there. At some points the road came very close to sheer cliffs. Stay focused. I was feeling good for quite a while. Max, Patrick and I were leading and Brian would lag behind. He had not ridden a long one since February and it was catching up to him. I felt very good. The pace was perfect. We past many familiar towns and roads. Other brevets from days past.
FInally we get to Gualala. We see Bones Road House Restaurant on our right as we get into town. It is late. Not sure what time but they should be closed. Miraculously they are open and everyone, 4 or 5 people are enjoying their last drink. We come in and Max asks for sodas. Max, Patrick and I each down one. Brian prefers cold water. We tell the patrons where we came from and mention Sherwood Road. They are gobsmacked! We have been riding through the night and plan on riding until we get to San Francisco. It is quite a thought for the average person in a bar. They ask questions are quite helpful. The bartender doesn't charge for the drinks but gives us a receipt anyway! Very nice! We pack up and move on.
Weather takes a turn for the colder. Fog is around us, floating by and making it very cold. My feet are getting cold, that's nothing new. Still, I usually am done riding by now. My hands have been warm and are getting a bit cold also. We ride on. I hope for hills. Downhills get so cold. We climb a doozy and after that is a long, long downhill. Exhilarating at night flying so fast with your light and negotiating turns on the edge. We are flying!
I finally start to flag a bit. I have brought along chocolate covered espresso balls and take 4 or 5. The help greatly. It seems I am doing good but I sense a giant ball of sleep deep down in me and if I think about it too much I will be overtaken by it and fall completely asleep as I sail off a cliff oblivious. Scary so I try and avoid the thought. I shake my head every once in a while. At the roadhouse, Brian asked about getting a taxi home. How many miles is that? He is beat. Max calls a paceline and tells Brian that we can do it and he'll keep the pace slower. This works for a while quite well.
Things shift a bit. Patrick is now riding ahead of us. Max is a bit erratic. Brian is behind. Then Max, Brian and I are riding together. Patrick is still ahead. I'm admiring how strong Patrick is. I catch up to him eventually and then he stops for a break. I continue on feeling strong for some reason. I stay ahead on the rollers past Marshall and near Point Reyes. It finally is getting light. The sun will be up soon. It is very cold. We all need the sun.
Soon we are riding into Point Reyes and the bakery is in front of us. Only problem is we are early. I look at Patrick's face and he looks awful. Apparently he had been riding ahead because he was cold, very cold. He hadn't packed enough cold weather gear. Quite odd as he usually is well prepared. The forecast stated 49 degrees for a low but that didn't account for all that fog. And that was bitter and cold fog. Max and I waited in front of the bakery and Patrick and Brian went in the post office to hopefully warm up. Patrick was feeling very cold and nauseous. The post office wasn't that warm and when he came out to come to the bakery at 7am he found the nearest garbage can and hurled. Wow!
The bakery open we waited in line and bought much needed food and warm stuffs. Very, very good. Patrick couldn't eat his muffin. He was considering bailing. We had decided to wait to call the bakery a control point since we had enough miles for the 22 hour mark. We considered Olema but nothing was open there. We confirmed that when we arrived there.
Soon we were all riding back. Patrick zoomed past me and kept up with Max. Amazing recovery. We rode on to Sir Francis Drake, White Hill was an effort. I was now hurting. That spring on Highway 1 was taking a toll. Still I must carry on. I knew what was ahead. I had done this finish route many times. We rode through the wiggle and finally got to Camino Alto. Yeah, another climb. Not too bad. We knew we were close. Down, down then we found a Whole Foods where we could end it at 10pm. We wouldn't make the finish at Cole Street Crepes but we would finish. That was tough. We sat in the sun and soaked it in. It was good. The sun was so good. It had been so long since we had been able to soak in anything warm. We had made it. Somehow we all helped each other out when it was necessary, convincing the other to continue even though it look grim. We did it. And it was good.
Brian hurried on as he had to take the train back. Max, Patrick and I rode the bike path and through Saucilito, the hill after that, Alexander hill and soon the bridge. Many other bikes to avoid. Tough. We made it to the toll plaza. We made it. We waited for our ride. Thankfully, Patrick's wife Brenda picked us up. So good to get a ride! The alternative being tacking on 30 more miles. That would have been tough. Max continued on and rode to his home in San Francisco. Patrick and I waited for the ride, dozing and enjoying the warm sun even more than ever. What an amazing ride.
Page Views: | 30 |
Departed: | Apr 19, 2014, 9:30 am |
Starts in: | Ukiah, CA, US |
Distance: | 252.4 mi |
Selected distance: | 252.4 mi |
Elevation: | + 16098 / - 16691 ft |
Max Grade: | |
Avg Grade | |
Cat | |
FIETS | |
VAM | |
Ascent time | |
Descent time | |
Total Duration: | 25:57:57 |
Selection Duration: | 93477 |
Moving Time: | 18:13:39 |
Selection Moving Time: | 18:13:39 |
Stopped Time: | 07:44:18 |
Max Speed: | 41.3 mph |
Avg Speed: | 13.8 mph |
Pace: | 00:06:10 |
Moving Pace: | 00:04:19 |
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