Friday, April 23, 2010

The "post big ride bounce"

Back in 2002, I was invited to join a group of riders doing a multi-day ride from San Ramon, CA to Malibu, CA. The last day's ride would be the only day when the distance was under 100 miles for the day, and the full ride distance would be 440 miles. That ride was a blast and the first time I had done a multi-day ride in 14 years. On that trip I met a bunch of great people, had a lot great food, got to sit on the beach, drinking a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale while staring out on the Pacific with Morro Rock to the south, and had my socks knocked off by the gorgeous terrain that makes up Big Sur. I came home feeling the wonderful exhaustion that comes from a great trip, and by mid-week after returning to work, I could feel a strength on the bike that was an echo from younger days. That's the post-big-ride bounce, right there. That April ride ended up giving me a boost that lasted through the summer.

In the intervening years, my cycling seasons have been getting progressively fuller, including more miles and more big events. Some of those years have been minimized by respiratory maladies, and other year's I've been luckier, but not entirely lucky on that count. This year, I've had my fair share of colds, plus a little bit more, but mostly the colds have been minor and not as frequent as the worst years. I did have to miss the San Francisco Hopland 400km this year, and as a make up ride, I signed up for the Davis Bike Club's 400km. Earlier in the month I rode a fleche that covered roughly 230 miles. During the Fleche I felt wonderful, and the week after I felt pretty darn good, though I didn't have much chance to make use of that on the bike. Two weeks later came the DBC 400km.

This was the first time I've done any version of the Davis 400km, having done the Santa Rosa 400km as my first 400km, and two different versions of the San Francisco 400km (one of those versions twice). My first 400km remained the fastest one I'd done until this year. I did that first 400km somewhere around 19 hours. And then came the infamous SFR 400km through the Central Valley, in 2006. Ugh. 25-30+mph headwinds for six hours and a finish at 2:15 am. The other SFR 400kms used a different route, challenging in it's own way and finish times were just as late. On the DBC 400km though, there was next to no wind, headwind or otherwise, and far, far less climbing than on the current SFR 400 route, which has somewhere between 13,000 and 14,000 feet of elevation gain.

My friend Charlie gave me a ride up and back to the ride start/finish. His riding partner for the day did not show, so we decided to ride together after the first control. I had a small energy dip early in the ride, but the stop at the first control proved to be just the tonic I needed and from that point on, the ride was a joy all day long. From Davis, the route heads west, then south to Vacaville, then west again to Fairfield before cutting through the Vaca Mountains toward Napa Valley, with a stop in Calistoga, and then looping east and north of Healdsburg on the way toward Lake Sonoma. The return route is very similar, but is more direct on the leg toward Vacaville, and differs on the route between Vacaville and Davis.

This 400km felt so much more like the Fleche events I've done, riding with some of the same people for the full distance, never pushing to the max, leisurely stops at controls. The end result? My fastest time for a 400km, at 18:38 (I did finish toward the back of the pack, when usually I'm smack dab in the middle). This week, I've again felt that post-big-ride bounce, and this morning I finally overcame sloth and took the long way to work. I time the first portion of this route from home to the highest point, as a means of gauging my cycling fitness, and I've kept a record of the times. In looking at this year's chart I can see where I've had a cold coming on or where I'm just getting over one. On today's ride to work, I never pushed hard to the point where I couldn't sustain the pace, and the ride felt effortless compared to the first version back in January of this year.

Friday, April 9, 2010

The wanderings of Oblio's dog

California has an extensive calendar of double century rides, and it was the double century that first lured me into long distance riding. Doing my first Davis Double Century in 2000, I was thrilled to be riding amongst hundreds of other riders. I still do several doubles a year now, but in 2002 many of my friends were 'graduating' to even longer rides. In 2003, these friends nearly disappeared from club rides with modest 100 mile distances. They were off riding something called 'brevets', basically qualifiers for a ride in Europe called Paris, Brest et retour. This cycling niche was known as randonneuring, based on the french word randonneur (the masculine form of the word for someone that commonly engages in hiking, but applied to cycling in a specific manner). By August, those friends had disappeared completely. They were all off in France doing a single ride of 770 miles, hopefully within the 90 hour time limit. All fall and into winter I heard countless stories of the PBP experience, and I was completely intrigued. In 2004, I decided to test myself as well when I signed up for a rather unique version of randonneuring known as a Flèche.

Flèche is the french word for arrow, and this choice of word to name the event comes into play if you imagine a target, with arrows flying toward the bulls-eye from all directions. The arrows represent the individual routes each Flèche team submits to the organizers, and the target is a central location with a specific meeting time where all the teams end up. The path the arrow follows in this case needs to be at least 360km, and the time of the 'flight' is no more than 24 hours and no less than 23 hours. The whole endeavor is said to derive from the efforts of several friends who on Easter weekend would travel the distance between Paris and St. Etienne, roughly 360 km, in order to meet up with other friends where they would share an Easter breakfast. The current organization of the Flèche has teams made up of riders on between three and five bicycles, and at least three team members need to finish the distance for the team to get credit for completing the ride. The team aspect is of course enormous, and plays heavily in guiding the make up of teams. At minimum, at least one team member knows all the other riders and more commonly, all team members are well acquainted. After all, the team will spend 24 hours in close company as they ride across the day and through the night aiming toward the finish target.

Now well into this posting, no doubt there is curiosity of just what the point is when the entry title mentions somebody's dog. Wondering about the point of this all is quite literally exactly where this tale is going. When a randonneuring club hosts a Flèche there are often enough teams that it is beginning to get difficult discerning one team from the next so the teams adopt names, quite often with the name being some word play on Flèche, or arrow. Aging children that grew up in the 1960s or 1970s may remember a movie by the name of 'The point!' which told the story of Oblio and Obio's faithful dog Arrow, and of course there you now have it.

On April 3rd, my team, known as Obio's dog, left Berkeley, California at 07:15 and over the next 24 hours we would travel through Hercules, Vallejo, Rockville, Fairfield, pass west of Winters and then head toward St. Helena, Calistoga, Healdsburg, Santa Rosa, Petaluma, Nicasio, Fairfax, Corte Madero, Sausalito, finally stopping at Crepes on Cole, south of the panhandle portion of Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. Our route was 233 miles long, gaining over 10,000' in elevation along the way. When we began, skies were overcast and temperatures were in the mid 40sF. By mid afternoon we had found sunny skies and sunshine fueled warmth had found us. Through the night, haze nearly obscured the moon and stars and temperatures slid into the upper 30s F, but the cold temps were offset by the disappearance of headwinds, a fair enough trade in my book.

Team chemistry, as alluded to above, is very important, and in our case one might wonder if it was alchemy as we ended up with gold. Bruce served as captain, and we used a route he would be riding for the third time. Phil joined us this year for his first ever Flèche, and Carlos and Robbins were riding their second (consecutive) Flèche. This would be my fourth and Bruce's fifth Flèche event. Randonneuring stories often become more compelling when the tale includes overcoming difficult conditions and circumstances. I'm afraid I will have to disappoint the reader on this point. We suffered no mechanicals, and except for a brief period (which certainly felt long to Phil) we all were feeling comfortable and confident of completing the route. As I said, I've done four of these events now, and darned if they just keep getting better each time.