Oakland Yellowjackets Bicycling Club

Los Tres Amigos Conquer the Mighty American River Bike Trail or How We Took 6 hours to Do 30 Flat Miles Along a Beautiful River Trail in the Deep Autumn.

Everyone else knew it would rain, so Paul Meola, John Horton, and I were the only three road warriors to land at the Sacramento train station on the early Saturday morning in December.

We took off in the gray morning, and things suddenly brightened considerably. It never rained that morning, and the sun continually threatened to break through. The ride along the river was gorgeous.

After leaving the station, we came quickly to a paved, well-kempt and wide bike trail and stayed on it mostly without any hint of car traffic for the thirty miles it took to get to Folsom. There are some tricky places—forks in the trail and crossings and turns that would have required closely following the cue sheet if Paul hadn't done it before.

There was parkland along the river nearly the entire way, and it is lush. Trees were turning orange and red; the river flowed wide. There were outhouses and bathrooms along the way, and grassy park areas with picnic tables in places. Once we got near Folsom, the trail came near the Nimbus dam and ran along the lake that is the Folsom Reservoir.

Saturday September 18th, 2010
The 49th Mt Tam Hill Climb

My introduction to cycling came as a way to maintain my cardio while nursing a running injury during marathon training. I borrowed a friend's ill-fitting road bike to see if it was something I could envision myself doing. As a daily cycling commuter I was no stranger to bikes, but had never ridden anything with drop handlebars. I choose to take the plunge and buy a new bike based on my initial reaction to cycling as a cross training exercise, which would give my legs a break from the abuses of running.

After owning my road bike a couple years and using it as a means to train for running races, it seemed natural to wonder about actually entering a cycling race. I had gained confidence keeping up with the advanced riders at OYJ rides. Completing the Grizzly Peak Century in the spring helped break my mental barrier regarding longer rides. While there are local crits, I've still never ridden fast on a short course. If I was going to try racing I wanted it to be similar to my road cycling experiences and skills. Upon learning of the Mt Tam Hill Climb, I thought it sounded perfect—besides I've always liked climbs.

We spent the first few days of our family vacation in Yachats, a small village halfway on the Oregon coast, then a week at Black Butte Ranch, near Sisters in the center of Oregon. Using the Death Ride as a preamble, I decided to ride between the two—just shy of 200 miles in two days.

The weather was excellent, and I opted for the "travel light" plan: in addition to my standard kit, just tubes and tools, Mojo bars, extra socks, sun screen, rain jacket (not used), mobile phone, id and credit card. My plan was to ride down the coast to Florence, then east 75 flat miles on Hwy 126 to Eugene, then stop for the night somewhere east of Eugene in the McKenzie foothills, then wheel over McKenzie Pass to Sisters and Black Butte.

The Serotta was still in excellent tune from the Death Ride, so no worries there. Helen tracked behind me by a day, in case of untoward events.

In brief, Death Ride on a fixed gear is probably the dumbest thing I've ever attempted. I'd never ridden any of the passes before. Had no sustained fixed gear climbing/training. Had only 9 days notice on taking the ride. Made all sorts of last minute changes to the bike the just days before the event (new cranks, altered stem height, different brakeset, different gearing, new handlebar, etc.). No altitude acclimation. And was coming off of 10 straight weeks of a combination of 2 fixed gear double centuries, 3 fixed gear centuries, 2 fixed gear 200ks and 3 geared centuries. Pretty much just a retarded "Can Do!" attitude.

Woke up at 2:00am, in the car by 3:15, and were on the bikes by 4:15am. I didn't realize that I'd left my water bottles in the car until we were 5 miles out. So I had to double back to grab them. Completely unnecessary morning stress. Not a great way to start a ride. I was suffering up the first climb thinking to myself "If this is one of the easier passes, this is going to be a looooong day."

Picked up steam towards the top of Monitor, blew past the rest stop and started the 10 mile descent. Melville was waiting for me at the bottom. Topped off the bottles, used the restroom, and back on the bike within 5 minutes.

Backside of Monitor was tough. Had to stop once to strip off some layers but started to feel good about the ride at the 1/2 way point. Blew past the Monitor summit rest stop again and started the descent down the frontside. About halfway down, my left thigh cramped up and I had to stop to shake it out. A small part of me wanted to turn right at the base and head straight to Carson, but before I could even consider it, my bike was steering left towards Ebetts. Oh well.

My stomach was starting to churn at this point and all signs pointed to the Cytomax so I had to rinse out one of my bottles and refill with plain water. Hit a few gentle rollers on the way to the climb, which is when my Furnace Creek 508 team captain pulled up next to me. I asked him what I should expect. "There a small steep section ahead and after that...I'll be honest with you....it's all rough." Lovely.

About 5 miles into the climb, the left thigh seized up again. I popped some Enduralytes, gave it a few minutes, and hopped back on. I probably made it another half a mile when I cramped again. This went on to the point where I couldn't pedal. I stood on the roadside for about five minutes hoping the pain would go away. It didn't so I was forced to walk it. Two friends (Zachary Bass from Mission Cycling and Peg Miller from Team In Training) recognized me and donated Enduralytes. Probably hoofed a good 1/4-1/2 a mile.

When I hit the top, I really wasn't sure what I was going to do. I parked my bike, pounded 2 V8s and a Coke and walked directly back to the bike. Without even giving myself time to consider turning around, I picked up my bike and started rolling it towards the backside of Ebetts. It was a fucking zoo up there and I was thinking to myself "Get the fuck out of my way people, before a I change my mind." And then I started the plunge.

Just as I started the descent I saw my buddy Mike Melville (he's the fucker who talked me into this) who was 1/2 mile from summiting. On the way down, the grade seemed to be getting steeper and steeper. All I could think was "FUCK. I've gotta come back up this." I hit the rest stop on the backside of Ebetts, got my "4th pass" sticker, and propped my bike against a pickup truck. By this time it was already noon. My initial plan was to hang here for an hour or so and roll back up when I was rested. I ran into Richard as I was topping off my bottles. He told me I was an idiot and I agreed. Apparently Chip and Kyle were around, but I was too frazzled to look for anybody. I tried eating some potato chips, but solid food just wasn't working for me. I had another V8, drank 1/2 a coke, hit my Hammer Gel, and after about 20 minutes was back on the saddle. I just wanted to get up and over this hill and waiting around wasn't going to speed that up.

The backside of Ebetts was definitely the hardest part of the day. I was able to roll steady for about 3 miles, and then my legs just gave out. No cramps. No pain. I just had no juice. I couldn't get the pedals over. So for about the next 2 miles, it was pedal for .2 miles, pull over, rest, and start rolling again. Thankfully the people I'd pull over next to were very sympathetic (like you'd be to a retard), and gave me Enduralytes, nutrition or words of encouragement.

I finally crested, laid my bike on the ground and sat down in silence for a few minutes. Once I'd wrapped my head around the reality that I'd done 4 of the passes, I was able to collect my mental shit. More Coke, more V8, more water. Then down the frontside. This was probably the easiest part of the day. Even though I was probably going no faster than 18-20 mph, the descent flew by. By the time I got to lunch, it felt like I'd only been descending for 10 minutes, even though it was probably closer to 30 or 40.

The lunch stop was sooooo disappointing. The staff there were un-enthused and all they had to eat were veggie wraps. Fuck this shit. I topped off my bottles again, and figured I'd head straight to the car in Markleeville where I had a stash of Red Bull. I was feeling pretty good on the way back from Ebetts. The legs were spinning well, and I was humming along. It was a little dis-heartening, not being able to jump into the pacelines but whatever. I was starting to feel like I could do this.

Then I hit the first roller back into Markleeville. My legs shutdown again. I felt like I was having to do leg presses just to hump over a 4% bump. Not good. Same thing for the next one. I still had 5 hours to finish Carson, but in the condition I was in, I probably wouldn't pull into til 8. Another 47 miles of this didn't sound all that enticing. I got to the car, tunred on the air-con, hit the CD player and rested a bit. Temperature was registering 102 degrees. Ugh.

When I got back out of the car, I decided to converse with the person parked next to me. She was supposed to be riding, but hadn't trained so she was cheering her friends on. Something about 2 months off the saddle while mountaineering in Nepal. She was cute and made for entertaining conversation. She then invited me to lie down on one of the yoga mats that was spread out at the foot of her car and eat some peanut butter filled pretzels. I lied down, kicked the shoes off and closed my eyes. It was at this moment that I decided to call it quits.

Evil "Siren of the Sierras!" Next year I shall resist your peanut buttery temptations!

End result. 82 miles, 4 passes, 11600 feet of climbing. A higher ratio than I've ever done, even on a geared bike.

I'll have to try this again next year. Hopefully a little wiser and little better prepared :D