So, there we were. About 16 hours into the ride, fed and rested, sort of, and sitting at 3500 feet of elevation with nowhere to go but back down into the Central Valley. Things were looking good.
We started out nicely away from Taylorsville and back to the base of Indian Valley. All was fine until we got back to Highway 70, which runs through Feather River Canyon. Instead of a nice gradual downhill, we were met by a headwind that made the downhill just as hard as the uphill. So we fought our way back to Tobin, the 400k mark on the ride. That was as far as I had ever ridden a bike, and now I was beat. Mario was hurting too. The coffee was hurting his stomach.
After an hour-long break we got going again. We made Oroville around dinner time. Larry and Dee had bought some veggie rolls for me, and they had ice cream, which was a real treat. We left there near sunset feeling much better now that we were out of the canyon and its headwinds and were heading into the flats. I think we expected to make good time.
Things went nicely until it got dark. Then Mario started to fade, so we slowed the pace. Not long after, once it was completely dark, something really interesting happened. Time seemed to slow way down. I don’t know how to explain it. But I can go out and ride for two or three hours and barely notice the time passing. This ride just got tortuously slow. Our pace wasn’t too bad. But in the darkness, with nothing but long straight stretches of flat road between us and home, the ride started to seem pointless and endless.
I kept making the mistake of calculating how long we had left, how many miles and how long each leg wold take. Very dispiriting. We didn’t talk, and without words, shared the load by alternating turns in front. In a different state of mind, it would have been a beautiful ride. We were passing beautiful rice fields. The moon was full. There were thousands and thousands of frogs in the ditches alongside the road for miles and miles. No cars to bother us. Really an extraordinarily peaceful ride. But when you’re as tired as I was, it is hard to enjoy all of that even if you can appreciate it. Â Even still, it seemed like it would be a mellow, if boring, ride back to Davis.
Then the wind started up.
It was a south easterly wind – a rare direction here – and for the most part, it was right in our face. The closer we got to Davis, the stronger the wind became. There were stretches where I was hoping a SAG wagon would pass by, stop, and offer to pick us up. I felt we deserved it. I really thought that we should be given a pass on completing the ride because we had put up such a good effort so far. But no dice. No SAGs passed us, and even if one had, I probably wouldn’t have gotten in.
We caught up to two other riders and the four of us rode together, silently, for some miles. We reached a point where we had to stop and answer a question on our brevet card to prove we rode the correct route. When we were done, I suggested that we take a five minute nap. No one said anything, but everyone laid down. It was peaceful lying there around midnight on a deserted levee road, feeling the warm asphalt and the cool wind. I wished I had said ten minutes.
But we were soon up and moving again. A little while later, Mario pulled over and said he’d catch up to us. I thought he had to pee. Not long after, we stopped in Knights Landing, the next town, for a brief snack. After ten minutes or so, Mario still hadn’t shown up, so I doubled back to go find him. A few minutes later I saw him riding toward me. It turned out that he wanted another nap. He said he completely passed out, but somehow awoke and got under way again.
So we continued on. Eventually, Mario and I pulled ahead of the other two riders. And finally, finally, we made it into Davis.
We checked in, then there was nothing to do but ride home. It was now 2:30am, and the wind was cold. I didn’t know how tired I was, and I was worried I’d crash on the way home. So I borrowed a blanket, got out of the wind, and napped sitting up for a while. Afterward, I got up and felt very lightheaded. Mario was eating, which seemed like a good idea, so I went to look at the food. Something about that thought was just wrong, and I instantly became nauseous. I was certain I was going to lose it, so I went into the field at the end of the parking lot, leaned over, and waited. The next thing I knew, Mario was shaking me and asking if I was okay. I was on the ground, and as I woke up, realized I had passed out. Very weird.
So I thanked him, rolled back into my blanket, tried to get out of the wind, and took a longer nap. I woke up around 4:30, got on my bike, rode home and went to bed dirty so I wouldn’t wake Kazu and Lisa.
The next day I was tired, but otherwise fine. Sore leg muscles, but not sorer than I’ve ever felt. And everything else — neck, back, arms – felt fine. I told Lisa I was thinking of dropping the 1200k, and a little later in the day, took a long nap. I think when I was waking from that nap was when I started thinking maybe the 1200k was doable after all. All it needed was some good planning.