Deanna
05-14-2007, 10:54 AM
Tour of the Unknown Coast
May 12, 2007
The Tour of the Unknown Coast is billed as California’s Toughest Century. At the end of the ride, I certainly agreed.
My husband Doug and I decided to do this ride a couple of months ago. I was hesitant at first, but then saw pictures from along the route, and the beautiful scenery sold me. I guess you could say I’m a sucker for a pretty place. We drove up the day before and checked into our hotel in Rio Dell around 4pm. We then rode the 14 miles to the start in Ferndale so we could pick up our registration early. The route to the was over the first part of the course, through extremely green and lush farmland. There were some short climbs and a headwind, which Doug pulled me through. I was grateful to note that we would have more of warm-up and any wind would be at our back when we rode this section the next morning in the opposite direction. After this ride, we met up with some of his team mates for dinner at the Eel River Brewing Company. Good beer, tasty food, but busy—this was also the weekend of Humboldt State’s graduation. Doug’s teammates had done this ride before and were consistent in their recommendation to find somebody to help with the headwind along the coast. This is a very important piece of advice for this ride, and one Doug made sure I remembered the next morning.
I didn’t sleep well during the night, and had serious doubts about my ability to complete the ride the next morning. The traces of recent rain during the morning hours we’re not encouraging either. I was considering the 100K out and back option, but got in line with 100 mile starters anyway. This is not officially a race, but the fact that it is timed, they send you off with a start gun and the presence of Tinker Juarez all added to a race like feeling. Being here with his teammates and having a goal of completing it in less than 6 hours, this would be the last time I saw Doug for many, many hours. This was expected, so I was not discouraged by it. My goal for the ride was to complete it in 10 hours.
The first 32 miles were pure bicycling joy. Back through the farmlands we rode the previous evening, then down the Avenue of the Giants. No wind and a cool but comfortable temperature. I wish I had gotten some pictures of this area, but as I knew the tough climbing came after this, I was trying to keep my pace up to make up for my inevitable slowing up the hills.
After the Avenue of the Giants (and the 100K turnaround point – I was going for it) you start a gentle climb up Mattole Road through redwood groves. These groves were awe inspiring and make the Avenue seem almost kitschy. I got a picture of these, as they seemed to require some sort-of respect be paid to them.
Up next was Panther Gap. The first big climb of the day. I don’t consider myself a good climber, but this is the type of climb I prefer. Long and gradual. I passed a lot of riders with mechanicals along the side of the road and thought to myself how lucky I’ve been in that I’ve never had any mechanical issues during the organized rides I’ve done. This is the type of thinking that can get you in trouble, as I got a flat not too far from where the climb levels out. I got the tube changed, but can never seem to get the tire up to a good pressure when I use my frame pump. I figured I’d be taking the long down hill even more cautiously than usual, but I came upon a rider and his wife who was driving private SAG for him. This is banned by the organizers, but I was grateful to see them as they had a floor pump in the car. With both tires up to the PSI they should be, I enjoyed the downhill into the beautiful and scenic Mattole River Valley. Riding through here I made a mental note that Doug and I should plan a trip to this area in the future.
I rolled into the lunch stop feeling good, ate a small sandwich and a cup of soup, topped off my water bottles and grabbed some Hammer and headed back down the road. The wind started picking up for this second, hillier section of the Mattole Valley and there was even a little bit of sprinkling on top of the final low ridge before you drop down to the coast.
True to its reputation, the coast was WINDY!!! Howling windy. I caught up with a lady from Oakland training for the Death Ride, and we made it down the coast and through the wind together better than we could have solo. We even managed to pass a few folks, who for some reason didn’t make the effort to latch on. Besides the usual difficulties the wind presents, it also prevented me from noticing how lovely this section is. It wasn’t until after the ride when I was looking at a photo I took of the “Wall” in the distance, did I see that the road was thickly lined with wildflowers.
Next up, the Wall, which I had built up in my head to being almost impossible to even walk up. Looking up, I did see a rider criss-crossing while walking his bike, but most people were managing to ride it. I rode the whole way up also, despite the gusting headwinds during the climb. I did have to step off my bike and let me body rest, but I still managed to crank it all the way up.
I had hoped heading inland, we would see a reduction in the wind. Not so. It never let up again. This wind was gusting over the endless hill, with its switchbacks and areas one would have expected to be protected from the wind. Eventually, the endless hill does level out a bit, but I experienced something new—my vision was seriously messed up. My glasses were filthy, but cleaning them didn’t help and taking them off didn’t help either. At some points I was seeing double and occasionally had to close one eye, set my course and then proceed. I was well hydrated and fed, my legs were feeling good, so I have no idea what caused this. This was the least safe I’ve ever felt on a bike and I probably should have flagged one down one of the few SAGs I saw. But I knew Doug was waiting for me at the end, and his encouragement leading up to the event kept me going. I took the rest of the ride slowly and made it to the finish and there was Doug, with camera in hand to greet me. I finished in 10 hours and 27 minutes, a little over my goal, but still the best I’ve done over terrain like this and I’m proud of the accomplishment. A big thank you to Doug for helping me do this. I got my finishers patch, took a quick shower and had dinner before we hit the road.
A few lessons learned:
• Do not forget chamois cream
• Make friends with as many fellow riders along the way as you can– they are your help and encouragement while you’re out there
• Stop and take more pictures, they’ll gloss over the suffering and remind you why you do rides like this.
• If the hot plates are almost empty in the food line, wait for a new one (in addition to my patch, I also took home a mild case of food poisoning).
May 12, 2007
The Tour of the Unknown Coast is billed as California’s Toughest Century. At the end of the ride, I certainly agreed.
My husband Doug and I decided to do this ride a couple of months ago. I was hesitant at first, but then saw pictures from along the route, and the beautiful scenery sold me. I guess you could say I’m a sucker for a pretty place. We drove up the day before and checked into our hotel in Rio Dell around 4pm. We then rode the 14 miles to the start in Ferndale so we could pick up our registration early. The route to the was over the first part of the course, through extremely green and lush farmland. There were some short climbs and a headwind, which Doug pulled me through. I was grateful to note that we would have more of warm-up and any wind would be at our back when we rode this section the next morning in the opposite direction. After this ride, we met up with some of his team mates for dinner at the Eel River Brewing Company. Good beer, tasty food, but busy—this was also the weekend of Humboldt State’s graduation. Doug’s teammates had done this ride before and were consistent in their recommendation to find somebody to help with the headwind along the coast. This is a very important piece of advice for this ride, and one Doug made sure I remembered the next morning.
I didn’t sleep well during the night, and had serious doubts about my ability to complete the ride the next morning. The traces of recent rain during the morning hours we’re not encouraging either. I was considering the 100K out and back option, but got in line with 100 mile starters anyway. This is not officially a race, but the fact that it is timed, they send you off with a start gun and the presence of Tinker Juarez all added to a race like feeling. Being here with his teammates and having a goal of completing it in less than 6 hours, this would be the last time I saw Doug for many, many hours. This was expected, so I was not discouraged by it. My goal for the ride was to complete it in 10 hours.
The first 32 miles were pure bicycling joy. Back through the farmlands we rode the previous evening, then down the Avenue of the Giants. No wind and a cool but comfortable temperature. I wish I had gotten some pictures of this area, but as I knew the tough climbing came after this, I was trying to keep my pace up to make up for my inevitable slowing up the hills.
After the Avenue of the Giants (and the 100K turnaround point – I was going for it) you start a gentle climb up Mattole Road through redwood groves. These groves were awe inspiring and make the Avenue seem almost kitschy. I got a picture of these, as they seemed to require some sort-of respect be paid to them.
Up next was Panther Gap. The first big climb of the day. I don’t consider myself a good climber, but this is the type of climb I prefer. Long and gradual. I passed a lot of riders with mechanicals along the side of the road and thought to myself how lucky I’ve been in that I’ve never had any mechanical issues during the organized rides I’ve done. This is the type of thinking that can get you in trouble, as I got a flat not too far from where the climb levels out. I got the tube changed, but can never seem to get the tire up to a good pressure when I use my frame pump. I figured I’d be taking the long down hill even more cautiously than usual, but I came upon a rider and his wife who was driving private SAG for him. This is banned by the organizers, but I was grateful to see them as they had a floor pump in the car. With both tires up to the PSI they should be, I enjoyed the downhill into the beautiful and scenic Mattole River Valley. Riding through here I made a mental note that Doug and I should plan a trip to this area in the future.
I rolled into the lunch stop feeling good, ate a small sandwich and a cup of soup, topped off my water bottles and grabbed some Hammer and headed back down the road. The wind started picking up for this second, hillier section of the Mattole Valley and there was even a little bit of sprinkling on top of the final low ridge before you drop down to the coast.
True to its reputation, the coast was WINDY!!! Howling windy. I caught up with a lady from Oakland training for the Death Ride, and we made it down the coast and through the wind together better than we could have solo. We even managed to pass a few folks, who for some reason didn’t make the effort to latch on. Besides the usual difficulties the wind presents, it also prevented me from noticing how lovely this section is. It wasn’t until after the ride when I was looking at a photo I took of the “Wall” in the distance, did I see that the road was thickly lined with wildflowers.
Next up, the Wall, which I had built up in my head to being almost impossible to even walk up. Looking up, I did see a rider criss-crossing while walking his bike, but most people were managing to ride it. I rode the whole way up also, despite the gusting headwinds during the climb. I did have to step off my bike and let me body rest, but I still managed to crank it all the way up.
I had hoped heading inland, we would see a reduction in the wind. Not so. It never let up again. This wind was gusting over the endless hill, with its switchbacks and areas one would have expected to be protected from the wind. Eventually, the endless hill does level out a bit, but I experienced something new—my vision was seriously messed up. My glasses were filthy, but cleaning them didn’t help and taking them off didn’t help either. At some points I was seeing double and occasionally had to close one eye, set my course and then proceed. I was well hydrated and fed, my legs were feeling good, so I have no idea what caused this. This was the least safe I’ve ever felt on a bike and I probably should have flagged one down one of the few SAGs I saw. But I knew Doug was waiting for me at the end, and his encouragement leading up to the event kept me going. I took the rest of the ride slowly and made it to the finish and there was Doug, with camera in hand to greet me. I finished in 10 hours and 27 minutes, a little over my goal, but still the best I’ve done over terrain like this and I’m proud of the accomplishment. A big thank you to Doug for helping me do this. I got my finishers patch, took a quick shower and had dinner before we hit the road.
A few lessons learned:
• Do not forget chamois cream
• Make friends with as many fellow riders along the way as you can– they are your help and encouragement while you’re out there
• Stop and take more pictures, they’ll gloss over the suffering and remind you why you do rides like this.
• If the hot plates are almost empty in the food line, wait for a new one (in addition to my patch, I also took home a mild case of food poisoning).