I ride...

{this post originally appeared on larrysorelegs.blogspot.com}

Part I— Why I’m riding to raise money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society

 Mom and Dan on the camp porch

Even though the dimensions of my heartfelt pain have lessened over the years, the impact of the loss of my mother remains infinite.  That pain will forever remain deep whenever thoughts wander her way.

Mom, Dad, and Cathy

There are some memories of her lasting impression which simply remain lodged in one’s brain no matter how trivial they now appear.  At the age of four maybe five tops, I remember being traumatized after some family event from which I was completely exhausted.  Throughout the day, I’m certain family conversation turned towards dieting of some sort, as general conversations often go.  And on this day, I explicitly remember my mother telling my sister and me that she would be joining Weight Watchers and that she was going to try to slim down.  Not certain at this time whether it was exhaustion or the tender age of four, I completely lost it.  I remember running up to her crying, top of my head to her belly button, throwing my arms around her, and telling her I’d have nothing to do with it, didn’t want her to lose the weight, I didn’t want her to change and she shouldn’t want to either. I truly loved her just the way she was.   

Looking back these 35 plus years later (gasp for both time that has passed and my age now), the event seemed inconsequential. It shouldn’t have registered in such a prominent place in my memory.  Yet it does.   

Fifty-three years of age is young. 

Mom (circa 1952)

There are so many memories of spending summers at camp.  I remember watching many sunsets from our favorite spot of all, the porch swing.  Often times, it was after my back had sunburned (don’t judge it was a time when baby oil was considered suntan lotion). She would patiently peel off the blistering skin, a tender moment in my childhood which seems like a lifetime ago. I remember being shewed out the door to play in the yard as she watched her Soaps.  To this day whenever I hear the theme from the ‘Young & Restless’, I’m brought back to the sand-pile just outside and the matchbox cars I played with there. I cherish the memories of Sunday mornings spent at the tiny church near camp, and not just because we got to go for ice cream after every mass.  I remember the pennies from heaven, which would liter the floor for my sister, my cousins, and my friends to find after the adults played a night of poker.  I remember hating thunderstorms as they raced across the lake towards us; but loving, after the storm had passed, that she then encouraged us to go outside, to run and slide in the puddles, and then to jump in the lake to clean off.

I remember being in bed and rocking back and forth muttering under my breath that I hate you, I hate you, I hate you; whenever she “sinned” by putting me down for a nap.  I remember the hideous plaid pants she made me wear to Merrill Hill School in the first and second grade; yet I really love plaid today.  I remember her (& my father) torturing me by bringing me to the Auburn Fire Department's Minot Avenue Station when I was little because they thought it would help me overcome my incredible fear of fire trucks, especially the sirens.  It didn't.  I remember her slipping down the back stairs to the backyard, in order to fulfill my request to have my wagon there. I remember waking on Sunday mornings, my sister and I running into our parent’s room; we would wrestle and tickle them awake.

Zoanne, Mom, and Carol

I remember mom covering for me when I used an SOS pad to clean the family car. I just wanted to get it cleaner and didn’t realize it would also scratch the paint.  I also remember her covering for me when I would swipe quarters to go play Asteroid at the Big S with John T.  I remember what she told me when I asked, ‘where do babies come from?’  I remember the sunny afternoon she said that she was pregnant with what would be my baby brother, the one I had prayed for such a long time.  It was many years ago, but I remember……….

Me, Mom, Dan, and Cathy

Fifty-three years of age is young.  I remember…

I remember the time she announced that she had cancer.

I remember the chemotherapy treatments. 

I remember the loss of her hair, the nausea and this sickness she endured. 

I remember being at home the last few days of her life. 

I remember her wasting away and watching the mother I love become so frail. 

I remember joking with her about that time she came home to let us know she was joining Weight Watchers, and my refusal to allow her to change.  Damn you weight watchers. 

Mom holding Aimee

I remember her wish of wanting to survive till my brother graduated high school; she never did. 

I remember her request that I look out for him and my dad after she was gone. 

I remember the exact time she was last conscious enough to communicate. 

Tante Nancy had just arrived for a visit.  Before leaving to go check on my sister’s cat and leaving her and Nancy alone to visit, I bent down to kiss her and give her a big hug.  I remember the tears in her eyes.  It was a Wednesday evening; she passed early Saturday.

Fifty-three years of age is way too young to die.  I remember….

That was my mother’s age when she finally succumbed to the effects of chemotherapy for the treatment of Multiple Myeloma. 

Mom, Dad, and Elvis

She departed this world, this realm, in May of 1994, just a few weeks before I graduated from college.  My younger brother was a sophomore in high school while my older sister had yet to be blessed with her awesome daughter, what would have been my mother’s first grandchild, who carries her name Samantha Claire.  My father was not yet retired and still working at Bath Iron Works.  The porch at camp still had screens, not the fancy windows of today, nor the concrete foundation.  She did however get to meet Trevor.  I did get the opportunity to ‘come out’ to her, although one of her first questions at the time was, did Trevor turn you gay,’ and my response was, no mom he didn’t.  She never had the pleasure of meeting my Sister-in-law, and will never get to meet my brother’s baby L’Italien, who will soon join us.  I can go on and on and on.  There is so much she has missed; and there is so much we have missed.

I ride for her. 

I ride for those who are suffering and will suffer from cancer. 

I ride for a cure. 

I ride for all those who will someday face the need to remember.

I ride for you.

I ride for me.

I ride…I ask for your support
{http://pages.teamintraining.org/sf/touralps11/llitalien}

Donor Incentives!!!!

{originally posted at larrysorelegs.blogspot.com}

As promised, below are the donor incentives I've come up with for your donations to my Leukemia and Lymphoma Death Ride fundraiser.  Not only will I pedal for you, I will also cook for you...stop that snickering.  Gone is the $1,000.00 donor incentive of me riding the 129 miles in drag, but rather yummies for your tummy.

Any donation no matter how large or how small will have my sincere appreciation and gratitude.  You’ll also get a picture of yours truly from atop the very last mountain pass.  It will be signed with love.

large vat of awesomeness

$75.00 donation: one container of homemade spaghetti sauce (mom’s recipe), must be local as not shipping overnight.  We can probably arrange something if you are located back east in Maine.  This way you can have your very own sauce-on-bread for breakfast, lunch, and supper.

$125.00 donation:  your choices of homemade peanut butter fudge or whoopee pies (gluten-free optional).   The fudge will be made with the real Fluff and not that jet-puffed crap I can only get out here.  You decide whether you trust me to make them or have my father make them. If I am not able to deliver personally, I will ship treat on ice pack, via USPS (if it fits it ships).

Gluten-free whoopee pie

$200.00 donation: Both peanut butter fudge and whoopie pies.

Peanut butter fudge and whoopee pies will arrive near the holidays to avoid the summer heat.

the change bucket is here.

{http://pages.teamintraining.org/sf/touralps11/llitalien}

Coleman Valley!!!

I have a few more roads to add to my FAVORITE's list after today!!!!

Yesterday's Team-in-Training ride (April 23, 2011) had me traversing roads that I have never ridden before.  There are so many good riding roads in Marin that I usually just start my ride from home and not drive to a start location.  By not driving, I save gas, but it limits my northward riding distance to Tomales and back, which is 120 miles round trip.  Today I drove to the Cheese Factory and then started riding with TNT.  This allowed me to venture further north on roads not previously traveled.

Bay Hill Road, just outside of Bodega is phenomenal!

Leaving the Cheese Factory shortly after 8 am, we traveled familiar roads: Hicks Valley, Wilson Hill (the short but STEEP direction) and Chileno Valley Road to Tomales.  This early in the morning there were no headwinds to speak of and the pace-lining got us through pretty quick.  After a very brief stop in Tomales, I took off with a smaller group so that I could go at my own pace and not feel as if I had to 'keep' up.  Not that I couldn't keep up, but if I was not having a good day I didn't want the added stress of not being able to keep the pace.  Besides, I like to stop and take pictures and let the surroundings settle in.  Often the views are more breathtaking then the riding and the smells can be just as breathtaking.  I'm talking the eucalyptus trees and not the manure.

 

On Dillon Beach Road, can you spot the black sheep of the family?

After the stop in Tomales, we headed north on Dillon Beach road.  My friend Joseph, has always wanted to get me to ride this road to Dillon Beach and now I can see why.  Some nice rollers with green hills and sheep galore. 

View from Vally Ford Franklin School Road towards Tomales Bay

From Valley Ford we headed Northwest on Highway One towards Bodega and my new favorite road, Bay Hill Road.  Such a narrow, eucalyptus lined, almost path.  I loved it!!  

Catching up with TNT group 2 riders on Bay Hill Road

I am extremely thankful that our small group caught up with a few riders ahead of us.  I was following Lisa G and another just outside of Bodega where we made a right onto Coleman Valley Road.  I surely would have missed this road had I not been following.  Similar to Bay Hill, it is a narrow winding road that is unmarked and could be easily missed.  However that is the only thing that could be easily missed.  Coleman Valley was our main climb of the day, and a climb it is.  I figure there is a good mile, mile and a half, of 12%+ grade and numerous cattle grates too. 

The view from Ocean Song, the top of Coleman Valley Road

The descent into Occidental was nice, again not for the speeds or bumpy road, but more because it was wooded and narrow.  Joy road was a joy.

SAG support at last rest stop at mile 62 on Whitaker Bluff

The last leg of the day brought us back near Tomales, where we took Fallon-Two Rock Road to Alexander to Tomales-Petaluma Road back to Chileno Valley Road.  On Chileno we slowed the pace a bit as we were getting tired and wanted to save a little something for the last climb of the day, Wilson Hill before getting back to the Cheese Factory.

Kyle cresting Wilson's with John G in background

John G and Jerry after Wilson Hill and mile 80-ish

All-in-all it was an awesome training ride.  Once again tired and sore after 85 miles and 7500 feet, but not cramped nor dehydrated.  Plus I now have a few more favorite roads to add to my list!!

Tomales!!

Somewhere on Highway One near between Marshall and Hamlet

Last Saturday (April, 16, 2011) Joseph was leading a Different Spokes ride from SF to Tomales and back (120 miles).  I decided to do this ride because Will, a friend from work, was interested in meeting us in Fairfax and riding the best 70 miles with us.  The 20+ miles to Fairfax are usually pretty mundane and tedious; when did crossing the Golden Gate get tedious? 

I broke out the camel pack and cleaned it as I said I would do after the Mt. Diablo ride.  After a hellish finish on Diablo, my goal was slow and steady, 120 miles is a long way and a long day. 

Will and Joseph, I made them stop so I could get pictures of those pretty yellow flowers

From Fairfax, Joseph took us on a clockwise route through Samuel Taylor State Park, Olema, Point Reyes Station, Marshall, Hamlet, to lunch in Tomales!!  Last time Joseph and I rode this ride we took the counter-clockwise route and that was just dumb.  We had encountered not only fierce headwinds on Chileno Valley Road but also coming out of Tomales to the coast.  Coming out of Tomales last year must have been the worse headwinds I've ever encountered.  Even worse than the 2009 Tierra Bella headwinds in Gilroy.

In Tomales, we ran into a small group of AIDs/Lifecycle riders lunching. 

After Tomales, we continued in the clockwise direction to traverse Chileno Valley Road.  As we suspected we had some awesome tailwinds pushing us southwest.  Those poor riders heading in the other direction.  After Chileno Valley it was up and over Wilson Hill to the Cheese Factory and eventually to Fairfax and back home.  Arrived home around 5:30 pm, tired, but no cramps and plenty hydrated.  A very successful training ride that was a ton of fun too. 

A foggy Tomales Bay

Hellish Mount Diablo + Morgan Territory

So this ride hurt, two days out and my legs are still sore.  I even asked 'why' and 'what did I get myself into', but there is a saying Team-in-Training uses which is 'No Why'.  I'm now familiar as to why 'No Why'.

The ride start was at Osage Park in Danville at 8 am.  I had planned to take BART to Walnut Creek and ride to the start but when I went to leave I found a flat front tire which needed changing.  I had replaced both my front and back tires the evening before and I made the rookie mistake of getting my tube caught between the rim and the tire.  Luckily the flat was a blessing in disguise because the additional twenty miles would have pushed me over the edge.

Climbing Mount Diablo in the early morning.

The ride was a nice 68 miles with 7000 feet of ascent.  The climb up Diablo felt great, nice and strong.  The descent was cold and slow.  After the major climb we headed north to Walnut Creek and then east to get to the Morgan Territory.  Morgan Territory is a narrow road that ascends through beautiful woods for 2000 feet.  It was here the challenge really set in.  Half way up the climb I could feel my legs start to cramp.  As usual I slowed my pace and started to drink even more.  By the top I was pretty beat. 

Top of Diablo

The descent is one of the best in the area.  A generally long slope with few sharp corners.  Yet after the descent the ride turned north and west the headwinds appeared.  I tried my best to stay with the group in a pace line to help buffer the headwind, but my legs were quickly turning to Jello.  About 8-miles out from the finish I decided to drop of the back and give my legs a bit of rest at a slower pace.  I'm sure they are thanking me. 

I've decided that I need to break out my camel-pack.  I find that even though I've been staying pretty hydrated, I stay more hydrated with the pack.  Besides, I've been told that on the Death Ride temperatures can get in the nineties, which is usually my limit.  I generally do not ride with those types of temps.  Hence, I'll need the pack for more hydration. 

TNT's Page Mill/Old La Honda

 TNT Death Ride Riders before departing.

This weekends training brought me to familiar territory down on the Peninsula.  I have often ridden these roads after work or on the weekends.  I used to go in to work start an experiment and then head off for a ride in the nearby hills only to return to finish the experiment after the ride.  I vividly recall one of my very first rides after I bought my first bike in fifteen years, or so.  I had no idea of what the local terrain was like and looked at a map and sketched out a ride of approximately 18 miles round trip from work.  I was thinking an hour, maybe and hour and a half tops.  On the 2-D map, highway 84 looked flat…I was gasping for breath before I ever reached the half way mark.  I know I was taught to read a topography map in school, but at the time I had totally lost that skill.

Saturday’s ride was my first ride joining a very friendly group of Team-in-Training Death Ride Riders for a fully supported training ride.  Unlike ALC, or other century ride training, the route was less about total distance and more about total climbing.  We started at 8:00 am sharp with a verbal descending clinic followed with a ride out towards Palo Alto and Page Mill Road.  Page Mill is a significant climb totaling an approximate 2,000 feet over 8 miles.   A rest stop waited at the top.  If I wasn’t chatting with random riders on the way up, I was signing Eminem in my head.

and because Eminem isn't the best music to get one up a hill, this soon replaced his music. 

 Jeff and Mark cresting Old La Honda

From the top of Page Mill it was a 7 mile jaunt along skyline with all the speeding cars and motorcycles to Alice’s Restaurant and Highway 84.  We descended Hwy 84 to Portola and over to Sand Hill to reach the next major climb of the day, Old La Honda.  Old La Honda is a benchmark climb in the bay area.  It is said that speed skater Eric Heiden holds the speed record of 14 minutes 10 seconds.  Unfortunately my fastest time up OLH is only 25 minutes.  I did not do it in 25 minutes today.  After the OLH climb we continued north on Skyline to get to King’s Mountain Road.  Usually I head south from King’s Mountain Road on Skyline and never remember that it is actually a pretty significant climb heading north (~800 feet).  I kept say the top was just around the next bend.  Can you say ‘cry wolf’.  As much as I enjoy the climbs, I dislike the descents.  I hate switchback descents.  The descent down King’s was cold and slow but we eventually made it back to Canada and the parked car.  

 Corinne, my TNT mentor, cresting Old La Honda with a smile

It was a beautiful day to ride.  Many thanks go out to Jeff, John G, Mark, John B, Alissa, and Jerry for being such great riding company.  Thanks also to Kevin for ride support, as well as all those peopling the rest stops.  Those potatoes and salt hit the spot on top of Skyline.

Marshall's 104

my Leukemia & Lymphoma Society fundraising page: http://pages.teamintraining.org/sf/touralps11/llitalien

 

Some days I feel like a turkey too, but not today 

(Just before the Marshall Wall climb).

This past week I had the luxury of deciding what weekend ride I wanted to do this weekend.  I could chose from TNT’s ‘Buddy’ Ride starting in Marin and probably would have included some variation of Alpine Dam/Mt. Tam, Chris’s Mountain View 70-miler, Joseph’s 100+ Marshall’s Wall, a few other organized rides, or strike out on my own.  It had been so long since I had ridden with Joseph that I opted to head for Marshall.

 Saint Helen's in Marshall, CA

Ride-out was at 7:30 am sharp from Peet’s coffee in the Castro.  In fact Joseph was just leaving when he saw me approach from down the street.  I must not be so tardy in the morning.  The route was the usual route to Fairfax which is two hours plus/minus a minute; god those stop signs get old.  We had traversed the eastern walkway of the Golden Gate Bridge as we had heard the staging had gone up on the western side and that the North Parking Lot was all torn up.  We only had to dodge one large group of Japanese tourists and a few hot runners.  It isn’t till we hit White’s Hill that the ride starts to become really enjoyable.  The sun was out, the temperature was warmer than expected, and some orange poppies were blooming.  We pushed a steady but moderate pace up White’s, up Nicasio, and up Alp du Fromage, arriving at the Cheese Factory near 11 am in good time.  The objective of the day was all about moderation, budgeting, and pacing myself so that I wouldn’t have a repeat of last weeks cramping.   

A semi-large group of Marin Cyclist that arrived at the Cheese Factory shortly after we did.

From the Cheese Factory we headed east to Hick’s Valley Road and then north through a gorgeous green valley.  It was here that Joseph gave a tutorial of serpentinite, a green and scaly metamorphic rock that has huge formation throughout California.  They run in bands and can be seen from satellite photos.  This next stretch of road is really what today’s ride was all about.  It was about taking our time rolling through these valleys enjoying the views and enjoying the nice long climb up Marshall’s Wall (~550 feet).    

 Joseph climbing the Wall.

 Joseph refueling at the top.

 View Northwest from the Wall looking towards Tomales Bay.

After riding the wall, we headed south towards Point Reyes for lunch at Whale of a Deli.  I’m sure they weren’t the best pork tacos I’ve ever had, but they definitely tasted like they were after 60+ miles and numerous climbs.  After lunch brought Olema Hill, the backsides of White’s and Camino Alto, and lastly Sausalito back into the city.  I was worried that we wouldn’t beat the rain, but we did.  We were home, shortly after 5 pm.  Tired and sore but not cramped.  Successful day of pacing and budgeting.

 Sneakers atop Marshall's Wall.  

Just to the right of the post in the far off distance, 

Mt. Tam is observed and just past that would lie the city.

A long beautiful day of riding in some of the best Marin has to offer.
larrysorelegs.blogspot.com 

An Arbitrary Start

I hereby mark this date as the date I start journaling my training and my rides once again.  Why, because I can.  However this time I’ll be raising funds for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

Today was a very cold day.  I think it is the coldest weather I have ever ridden any length and distance.  Thirteen gents and one woman gathered for an ALC Cat3 training ride I was helping to co-lead in near 37F temperatures.  Last winter I swore I would never ride in temperatures below 45F.  It had been rumored that San Francisco was going to get its first snow in something like 40 years the night before.  The snow was a no show.  Just as the clouds were peeking from behind the clouds we departed 8:30 am sharp for a leisure jaunt to Point Reyes Station and back.  The route was the usual route to Fairfax where we stopped for a quick breather.  Rather than the usual coffee, pastry, and chit chat, the group was on the move to stay warm.  We had two significant climbs ahead of us before we reached Point Reyes for lunch, White’s Hill and Olema Hill.  In between there was also Samuel Taylor State Park with the Marin Bike Path through the Redwoods.  This was a very cool section with what appeared to be black ice in spots.  We were in Point Reyes just before noon.  I think this is the fastest ALC training ride I have ever co-led. 

Here they are lunching and sunning in Point Reyes Station.

Lunch was eaten hastily and we then were all off for our return trip.  Rather than retracing our steps entirely, we headed for the Platform Bridge and traveled clockwise around the Nicasio Reservoir.  Did I say this group was flying?  Nicasio and a last re-group in Fairfax came next.  It was in Fairfax that I had texted Trevor and found out he wasn’t doing well at home sick.  I grabbed a Red Bull from Perry’s and headed out with a group back to the city so I could be nurse.  There were two significant climbs still in the way though.  The backside of Camino Alto is my nemesis.   On long hard rides, the backside of Camino Alto tests my limits severely.  In the past, half way up the climb I’ve found myself on the grass doubled over in pain from cramps.  This ride was cold and fast AND I neglected to drink as much as I should have.  Sure enough, I started cramping as I was climbing Camino.  I slowed my pace to make it to the top and over the other side without having to make nice with the grass.  At the light at the bottom I drank an entire water bottle containing electrolytes to see me up the last significant climb, Sausalito Lateral.  I was home by 3:30 pm. 

All-in-all, it was a great group of friendly and fast riders.   Refresher lessons of the day are to moderate my pace and to drink even more.  An awesome Arbitrary Start…

Total Slacker

Day 1

Okay, so I'm a complete and total slacker with updating this training blog. I FAIL...I've found Facebook has made this kind blog a tad redundant. After laundry, work, bills, contemplating, and decompressing, I hope that within two weeks I'll have a ride report all sketched out and all my pictures from ALC8 organized and ready for sharing. In the interim the pics below represent the most striking things I think I'll remember from participating in AIDs/Lifecycle 8. I'll elaborate more in my ride report to come....

Year-to-date miles ridden: 3,243 (as of 6/6/2009)

Day 6

Day: 1-6

and of course there was Day 5...

‘Everyone looks like they are going to die’

‘Everyone looks like they are going to die’

Those were Trevor’s words to me a little while after finishing my first Double Century, the Solvang Spring DC. He was wondering what on earth could possess grown people to put themselves through such pain as riding 200 miles in a day. I answered him by saying ‘I think that is the point’.
For I think that neatly encapsulates the point of attempting such a ride. For me it is the challenge that as I get older and my doomsday clock keeps a ticking; I want to push my body physically and my mind mentally to the limits. Trust me, riding a double century, even one as ‘moderate’ as the Solvang Spring DC, is both just as much a mental/psychological challenge as a physical one. If not more so.

I have been thinking about this ride for more than a year and training for months. My longest training ride was a few Saturdays ago, when I rode the SF Randonneurs Point Reyes 200K route (200K+ from home, 140 miles) with around 8,000 feet of climbing. I would be completely lying if I said I thought I wasn’t afraid of attempting a double century. I was nervous as hell.

A friend Doug and I were chauffeured to Solvang by Trevor on Friday. We arrived in Solvang late afternoon. I had to ride down to the local bike shop to get a new saddle bag after finding the one I purchased in the morning not fitting on my bike. Earlier in the week I busted my previous saddle bag after taking a tumble on a dirt rut on my commute to work. After registering and going to eat we quickly tried to get some shut eye. I spent a good while looking at the ceiling trying to get my nerves under control.

The alarm goes off at 4 am. Up out of bed I jump. Into my bike shorts, checking the weather to see how many layers I needed. I decided to use arm and leg warmers, extra socks, a vest, bandana, and some warm full fingered gloves. I tucked my regular gloves, an extra tube, my phone, and some sunscreen in my jersey pockets. Checked to make sure I had placed some ibuprofen in my saddle bag for surely I was going to need it and figured since I was checking I should take some immediately as a preventative measure. Shortly after 4:30 am, Doug and I leave the Holiday Inn Express to be joined by other bicyclist coming from the same hotel and from others down the road and we all journeyed the 3 miles to Buellton CA where the ride was starting from the Marriot no earlier than 5 am. I was definitely starting to get excited. Just about as we are hitting Buellton we begin to see riders departing in the opposite direction. We got to the Marriot, had them mark our rider numbers, and off we started.

It was a cool morning, around 42 degrees, with a ton of stars shining and a beautiful crescent moon. It was awesome!!! I absolutely loved heading down CA246 towards Happy Cannon Rd as a part a long procession of bicyclists with their lights on and blinkies blinking with hardly a car to be seen. I found I had a tendency to be entranced by all the blinking lights. It was an almost primal reaction, such as ‘I must catch the blinky ahead of me’. I found myself starting the first few miles strong but than trying to calm myself ultimately convincing myself that I wasn’t racing and I should slow down because it was going to be a long day. Yet off I continued after the next blinkie.

It wasn’t long before we turned onto Foxen Canyon Road and began our first ‘climb’ of the day. What was incredibly interesting was the climbing through the thermoclines, it being much warmer at the top then in the valley below. Foxen Canyon Road is an absolutely gorgeous road, sprinkled with vineyards and cows and horses and pastures with flowers. Just as the sun was rising, we hit this road. We passed Firestone/Curtis, Koehler, Fess Parker, and Rancho Sisquoc. I nearly tossed in the towel when I surprisingly passed Zaca Mesa winery and called it a day, but I mustered all the will power I could find and peddled on. Shortly after passing Foxen we arrived at the first checkpoint/rest stop in Sisquoc after about 40 miles. After spending a little over 10 minutes at this checkpoint I got incredibly chilled and decided I needed to get back on the road to warm up. Doug was at the checkpoint by now, but being chilled I didn’t stay to chat.

From Sisquoc we traveled northeast on the eastern side of Santa Maria with only a slight climb on Bull Canyon Road. What I remember most about the roads between Sisquoc and San Luis Obispo is the strong riders I was riding with and the pace lines formed sporadically all the way to the second check point (mile 80). (Many thanks to Jerome for imparting pace line etiquette tips a few months back). The heat had been turned on by this checkpoint, in my estimation it was around 80 degrees if not above. All the extra warm layers I had on were taken off and rolled so that they went in my jersey pockets. The sunscreen I was carrying was liberally applied.

Leaving San Luis Obispo I ended up riding with Bill from Grizzly Peak Cyclists. I recognized his jersey and introduced myself. We ended up chatting a bit as we road and took turns in the lead as we headed north on Highway 1 into Morro Bay. We were traveling at a pretty good clip, overtaking riders ahead of us, but none joined. If I remember correctly we made it to the Morro Bay mandatory checkpoint by noon. In Morro Bay we had to have our numbers checked so that it was confirmed that we road the entire way. This is a pic of the rock in Morro Bay. Here we caught up with a person I think I recognized from Chris’s Old La Honda/San Gregorio training ride the week before. He was busy sending off a text notifying someone of his making the half way point. At lunch it was confirmed that he was on the training ride last week and that he was riding in ALC8 this year with Topher (someone I know from DSSF). Ryan, Bill, Blue guy (don’t know his name, he was wearing a blue jersey and shorts), and I pretty much stayed together all the way to the lunch stop where Subway sandwiches were waiting for us. I stopped to take these pics just before leaving Morro Bay.

Lunch was mile 118. The time was 1 pm. It was only while I was eating did the speed demons that were being timed catch up, blow into the rest stop, and immediately breeze back out. Keep in mind that the people wanting to be timed left at 7:30 am, nearly 2.5 hours after I did. After being absolutely shocked I was quite proud of making it all the way to lunch before they caught up with slow poke me.

I would have been in absolute heaven if the ride stopped at mile 118.5, lunch. I felt strong, not too tired, and in good spirits. After lunch the muscles started talking back, the energy dissipated, and the mental games began. I started noticing the bumps in the road a bit more. I recognized the hot springs that I stopped at with Will, Chris, and Roger, amongst others during ALC7 last year. From there it was a familiar route into and out of Pismo Beach all the way to Hwy 1 and Mesa View Drive. It was here that I started to get panicky and started asking what the hell I got myself into. The reason being was that I started to remember this stretch of road from ALC7, or more specifically the stretch of road that I was about to reach. Mesa View Drive was a slight climb maybe 200 feet if not a little bit more, which wasn’t bad. It was the stretch of Hwy 1 from the top of the climb all the way to Guadalupe. It is down right ugly in that the cross winds and head winds are absolutely profane inducing. If there was a bicyclist hell in California, this stretch of road into Rest Stop 4 in Guadalupe must be right up there contending for the top spot. So forgive me if it was during this stretch that I started cursing the gods, doubting what I was doing, etc…yet I could only peddle on. Just as I remembered the horrible cross/head winds, I also soon remembered in the middle of a curse the wonderful and beautiful TAILWINDS that would push me out of Guadalupe into Santa Maria!!!!

The tailwind was nice, but once I turned south again on Black Road the road conditions was less than ideal. I suspect that it may have been a simple fact of being tired and noticing all the bumps and potholes a lot more. However, the road (Hwy 135) into Los Alamos and the last rest stop was horrible and would be under any amount of rest. After resting for a little while, psyching myself up for the last major climb of the day up Drum Canyon Road, having a lot of M&M’s and soda at the last rest stop I texted Trevor to give him my ETA at the finish line. It was shortly after 5 pm and I gave him an ETA of between 6:15 and 6:30 pm. As bad as I thought Hwy 135 sucked, Drum Canyon’s poor road conditions would take the title of worse conditions for the day. I settled in and slowly started to climb the ~1500 feet in over 3.4 miles. I’ve definitely climbed harder hills, but not after 177 miles before. The slow and steady pace still enabled me to catch and pass other riders on the climb and it wasn’t long before I passed over the cattle grates at the top. The descent was the horrible part. The poor road conditions made a technical descent even worse. The riders I passed on the way up now passed me on the way down. I stopped to take a few pictures of the valley and some flowers. Flowers pretty, potholes ugly.

Since I found the climb not to take me as long as I feared, I decided to slow down my pace a bit because I had given an ETA and didn’t want to get there before Trevor (however if I had known he was already there…). Any how from Drum Canyon Road it was a left onto CA246 with an easterly heading into Buellton and the finish line (just after 6 pm) and a smiling Trevor and his beer which I immediately stole. After checking in, I settled in with a beer and another and let the sun and alcohols warm my bones.

So yes I felt a little bit close to death, physically and mentally, but the fact that I made it through to ride in another one still smiling means everything in the world.