“Next organized ride is the Davis Double Century. I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again: I hope I can muster the self-discipline to ride it slowly. I’m already thinking of date bars in Winters, espresso in Middletown, ice cream in Guinda . . .”
Well folks, I’m sorry to say that by this measure, the ride was a failure. I mean, it was a nice ride and all. It just wasn’t the ride I wanted. But I learned a lot. Mostly, I learned about some of the things in me and around me that make it hard for me to kick back, so to speak, and enjoy a long ride. So in that sense, it was a really good learning experience. Anyway, here’s what I learned:
First Mistake: Riding too fast
The morning started out nice. It was dark. Venus was alone and bright in the east. As I rolled along the greenbelt to the start (all of one mile from my house) the only sounds were a few waking birds and the hum of my tires. Very peaceful.
I got to the place where I was supposed to meet a few friends, but I was a couple of minutes late. Literally, two minutes. They were gone. But instead of letting them go, I tried to catch up. A few miles on, a train of about two dozen riders passed me. I jumped on the back and hung on for the 20+ miles to the first rest stop. The line was moving over 20mph the entire time. I caught my friends, but lost a little glycogen in the process.
And that’s kind of how the rest of the ride went. Jumping on one train, leading another, grabbing a wheel whenever I could to get further down the road faster. Powering along too busy watching the wheel or the road in front of me to see anything else. Riding just at or even beyond my comfort level for the sake of getting somewhere a little faster, a little sooner.
It’s not a bad way to ride, necessarily. I can be fun, exhilarating. But I already know how to do that. It’s how I normally ride. It’s a habit, and one I found is hard to break. It’s very seductive to ride faster than you normaly can on your own. But not necessarily the best way for every ride.
In this case I found myself passing through beautiful areas, like Cache Creek Canyon, just wishing we were through them. What fun is that? Might as well drive. Net result? For all my rushing around, I finished this ride in almost exactly the same amount of time as I did last year (somewhere shy of 15 hours).
Second Mistake: Not drinking enough fluids
You would think this was a no-brainer: It’s forecast to be 100 degrees, so you should drink a lot. Well, yeah. But to do that, I would need at least three bottles of fluids with me. My bike has room for two bottles, so I would have needed to wear a Camelbak.
And up until very recently, that’s what I did on every ride 100 miles or longer. It works great, in the sense that you can carry more water. But the downside is that you end up carrying the weight of that water and a bunch of other crap (spare tubes, Clif Bars, etc.) on your back. So you get hotter from the lack of air circulating where the Camelbak sits, and there is more strain on your upper body due to the weight.
I have been going without the camelbak on my recent 100-125 mile rides, and it has worked. Of course, those were also considerable cooler days. But I thought I would try going with just two bottles (one electolyte, one water), stop at every rest stop to refill, and see how that went.
It did not go well. I never got completely dehydrated, but I was definitely running low all day long. This led to mistake number 3 . . .
Third Mistake: Not eating enough
So, being a little dehydrated, by the time I got to each rest stop, all I wanted was fruit. It was good fruit: watermelon, cantelope, grapes, apples . . . But more solid food, like PB&J sandwiches, didn’t interest me at all. At the time, I saw the fruit as cooling food, not completely aware that I was probably more after the liquid than the coolness. I think the only solid food I ate all day was one Clif Bar, one half of a PB&J, and some fig bars. The rest was fruit.
So as with hydration, I did not run so low on fuel that I bonked. But I did slow down while riding, take a longer to get through each rest stop, etc. Which brings us to . . .
Fourth Mistake: Stopping at rest stops
This is not as obvious as the other mistakes, but something I’m learning slowly. Rest stops have everything you need: water, fruit, really helpful, supportive people, rest rooms, iced mocha frappucinos . . . you don’t have to worry about anyone stealing your bike. You run into people you know who you haven’t seen on the road. Rest stops are really wonderful places in a lot of ways.
But there is a weird, frantic energy in rest stops that makes it difficult for me to relax there. I never sit down. I move from one station to the next, refilling, eating, packing fig bars for the next leg. Anything and everything except relaxing. There is something unsettling about watching other people leaving. Maybe they’ve been there an hour. Who knows? But with all the coming and going, it’s a constant reminder that you have to get going too. And if you’re moving slowly, like I was, they get kind of frustrating.
I can’t help but think that if I’d stuck with my plan and ate when there were towns, I would have had a different attitude toward the ride. A more relaxed attitude. If I walk into a cafe, I know it’s going to take 30 minutes or so to eat. Once I have that expectation, I can let go of other anxieties.
Fifth Mistake: Not learning
I haven’t made this mistake yet. Which is to say, now that I am more keenly aware of my tendencies, and the outside factors that influence them, I should be able to do something about them. In that sense, the 2009 Davis Double may turn out to be a pivotal ride in my prep for the Gold Rush. We’ll see! larry John mojo mario pope valley paul shadow
