The serious Randonneur (why so serious?)
I read a lot of ride reports, and I love them. People note helpful details and make you feel as though you are there. I myself have written reports of that tune, but this time I want to tell the story of the things that I thought were important, the memories I will take with me from this ride and leave the little details out. If you do want to read a complete narrative of this ride, my friends Errin and Ryan both wrote reports about it, and they can be read here and here. I would love feedback on this report style, love it or hate it, your thoughts are appreciated.
That said, on with the report:
One of my favorite things about Randonneur style cycling is that you get to nerd out big time. You are entirely self supported for long distances, so that means you need to bring stuff, and in order to bring stuff that means you need bags, bungee cords and clips of varying sizes and styles. I think one of the funnest things about the ride is preparing everything for it. You pack baggies of drink powder, buy travel size sunscreen and figure out how you are going to bungee cord your cold weather jacket to your handlebar bag once you take it off in the mid-day heat. It is almost like you are creating a mental procedure list in your mind, even if you never use half of it. I am a big planner so this aspect of the sport really appeals to me.
Gracie is all ready for her first brevet
This was my first brevet, first 200k and longest ride to date. I have been wanting to ride with the Pacific Coast Highway Randonneurs since I heard about them and my excitement about the ride was not unfounded.
The ride started in Big Bear and ended in Huntington Beach. To get the party started we rode up to Onyx summit for a long descent down the backside. The terrain, flora and fauna are in my opinion the best that California has to offer; absolutely breathtaking. Roads like these are why we own bikes. The climb up to the summit was my favorite part of the ride; the roads were very quiet, the air smelled clean, and I was in good company. The climb to the summit was only about 1500ft of elevation gain, and before I knew it we were there.
The air is a lot thinner up here
This photo is a lot more impressive when Breathless Agony riders take it
The descent down the backside of Onyx summit was equally as breathtaking as the ride up. What was unfortunate is that I didn’t get any pictures. We were descending at about 35mph so it was hard to snap meaningful pictures. We rode along highway 38 through forests, over short climbs and past waterfalls. At one point, after descending approximately 2500ft, we hit a fog layer. I rode around a corner and bam, fog was just hanging along the cliff sides. At this point, I thought it appropriate to apply a soundtrack. I squeezed the brakes, flipped on the ipod and continued down the road. I highly recommend Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros for descending long distances, something about it just works. After making the turn toward Redlands, I was able to gain about a minute on my riding buddies and I took the time to snap a photo of this beautiful place. This is a photo of the ugly section of the descent, so you can imagine what it was like further up the mountain.
I wish I had taken a better picture
Me, Bruce and Errin
My new buddy Ryan
After the first control, we made our way to the first stretch of river trail. Just as we approached, we ran into Isabelle Drake who had just finished getting in some bonus miles. She hoped into our group and we headed down the river trail. River trails aren’t the most beautiful scenery you have ever seen, but when you are riding on them with good company, the scenery hardly matters. At one point I found myself taking a pull (a slow one) at the front of the group with Isabelle to my left. I have heard and read her name many times and she lived up to her reputation. She is one of the most delightful riding partners, kind and pleasant. She and I chatted for a long time about cycling. She regaled me with wonderful stories of the Furnace Creek 508, Race Across Oregon, and other inspiring adventures. At one point we found ourselves on the dirt section of the river trail and we were riding in Rough Rider style, slick 23c gatorskins through sand and loose rock? Daring to be sure. Isabelle had enough sense to walk her full carbon bike up the hill while I thought it would be a good idea to skip my tires up the hill throwing rock and dust around like a madman. Eventually I ended up on my side and Ryan found himself off in the brush. Sadly no pictures were taken. We rode into the second control together and that was the last I saw of Isabelle until the finish.
I hit a strange wall at the second control. I still can’t figure out what it was, I suspect I was slightly dehydrated. I ate a 6 piece chicken mcnuggets and medium order of fries and a bottle of Heed and Muscle Milk protein mix and then we pushed on. I was feeling very dumpy at this point. My neck was hurting (a result of poor bike posture), my knee had been hurting since we started the ride and I didn’t have any plain water. All I wanted was to chug down some plain cold water. I normally wear a camelbak but I decided against it for this ride. Errin was kind enough to do all the pulling and I was just trying to keep my head in the game. I finally became all consumed with finding some water, I just couldn’t stand it anymore. There was a water stop about 8 miles up the road, but I couldn’t wait till then. I kept my eyes peeled for any place that I could get a fill. Finally, I spied a break in the fence and there it was…an oasis…a modern day garden of eden…a circle K. I filled my bottle, chugged it standing in front of the machine and refilled it again. I was so thirsty, and this was just what I needed.
Errin had continued down the road, so the remaining 25 or so miles was left for me to pedal alone. Even as worn out and feeling as bad as I was, I couldn’t help but feel like there was some sense of tradition I was experiencing here. I was riding into a constant headwind, dehydrated, low on calories and alone at the end of a ride…this is the randonneur experience. Toughing it out through way less than ideal circumstances just for the adventure of it all. I experienced the other side of adventure here. Some adventures involve beautiful landscapes with friends and campfires, but adventures like this involved being alone in the middle of a concrete river path with nothing but a headwind and sunburn to keep you company. Adventure comes in many flavors, and so far this one is my least favorite. At one point, I stopped to find another playlist on the ipod and I snapped a couple photos. I scrolled through my playlists and thought “I need something that is in perfect contrast to how I am feeling right now, I need something cheery, happy and relaxed”, Jack Johnson it is. I put on old Jack and rolled on.
Looking slightly unhappy
The long dark of Moria (for you Lord of the Rings fans)
After about 10 more miles of headwind, I could see the waves breaking in the distance and I knew I was almost home. I found the last remaining drops of optimism splashing around in my soul and I rode under the PCH. I rounded the bend and saw the other warriors looking as worn out as I felt. I came to a stop and there were cameras, friends and fresh water to greet me home. Isabelle rushed over to congratulate me and she held my bike as I signed my brevet card, expressing yet again the spirit and kindness of a fellow randonneur.
Alas!
When all was said and done I finished my first brevet in roughly 9 hours and 20 minutes. Not an astounding time by any stretch of the imagination, but it was an amazing adventure that I won’t soon forget. Thank you to Greg, Lisa, Terry and Amber for taking the time to make this brevet happen.
As is customary, look for the “Things I Learn at the Big Bear 200k” post.
