I did the San Francisco Randonneurs 400k on Saturday. It was a very, um, interesting experience. That long of a ride gives plenty of time for changes to take place. For instance, how many of you have started a ride feeling perfectly healthy and come down with a cold during the course of the ride? We started out crossing the Golden Gate Bridge Saturday at 6 am, and I felt fine for the first 40 or so miles, then suddenly my legs started loosing their strength and I couldn't keep up with the group of riders I had caught up to earlier. At the time, I figured it was the mile or so of 12% grade we had recently gone up.
I kept chugging along while noticing odd noises coming from the bike's drivetrain, kind of like a misaligned RD, but more intermittent. I figured I'd take a good look at the first control, but before I got there, the chain started completely slipping. I stopped and looked, and discovered that the chain had slipped down between my two biggest cogs. Closer examination revealed that the cogs were slipping back and forth on the freehub body because the lockring had come loose. Anybody familiar with the military term "Charlie Foxtrot"? In this case, it was very appropriate. Fortunately, I was carrying a
Stein Mini Cassette Lock tool and was able to put it back together.
As I rode the last few miles to the control, I was considering turning around and just riding back to the start because I just wasn't feeling very good and I knew from the elevation profile I had seen that there was a very significant climb right after the control. It would have been a 200k day, but I decided to stick it out. I was out here to overcome challenges, wasn't I?
At the first control, I was drinking some apple juice when I notice my front tire looked odd. Turns out it was completely flat. When I took the wheel off the bike, the reason was obvious, a very large fishhook was sticking into the sidewall. Trying to pull a barbed fishhook out of a tire is pretty much impossible without destroying one or the other. Fortunately, the manager of the store that was our control point had a pair of pliers with wire cutters, so it was the fishhook that got destroyed. By the time I was done and ready to go, I was the only rider left at the control, so I was pretty sure I was the last rider on the road. Bleah.
The big hill after that control lived up to its reputation. It is ironically named "Joy Road", and was mostly 12-15% grade, and 3 or so miles long. Hmmm, doing the math, that would be 1900 feet of climbing. It wasn't quite that much, but I do vaguely recall a few flat bits along the way. I got up it, but suffered. The descent was nice, though, beautiful forests. I suppose there were nice forests on the way up, but I didn't see anything by the pavement 10 feet in front of me on the way up. And it wasn't even very nice pavement.
There was a very nice stretch of the Bohemian Highway that followed, which was mostly 1-2% downgrade, which gave me plenty of opportunity to recover. I'd say it was the high point of the day. I pulled into the next control, the Guerneville Safeway, and saw a few riders eating, but by the time I had gotten in and out with some food, they were all in the process of leaving. I ate quickly and headed out alone again, after taking off a layer of clothing.
It was now about 70 degrees (F), and quite pleasant out, so I was wondering why my nose was still running like crazy. I understood it earlier, since it had been somewhat cold, but it was nice and warm at that point. I figured it must be an allergy, which seemed odd, since I don't have much in the way of pollen allergies. My legs still felt dead, but I slogged onward. Turning around was out of the question, since I didn't want to go back up the backside of Joy Rd.
I knew there was one more climb of similar height to Joy Rd. ahead of me, but it was on a state highway, so I hoped the roadbuilders had put sane limits on the grades. It turns out they had. It was 4-5% the whole way, including a few switchbacks. It was just as high (a little higher I think), but I could get in a low gear and spin my way up, so it wasn't nearly as bad. Just before I started the climb, I got passed by another randonneur on a recumbant, I think he had stopping for food in the town I had just passed. I passed him on the climb, which made me feel a little better. Then the course turned onto a smaller road and headed down. Then up. After a couple of miles of 6% or so climbing, I stopped at a summit to refill water bottles, and the recumbant rider caught up to me. We chatted for a few minutes, and I suggested he start first, since he would no doubt descent faster (which he did). The road went down at about 6%, then up at about 6%, then down at 6%, and so on for a while. When it finally hit flat ground about a mile from Hopland (the halfway control), I was really happy to be able to just be able to ride on flat ground. There were still a few people at the mini-mart that was the control. In the pre-ride info, we had been warned that we should expect headwinds going south from Hopland and being in a group was highly advised. So I tried to get turned around as quickly as possible. The sandwich I bought was too dry for me to eat quickly, so I stuck it in my h-bar bag for later and got ready to go with the last 3 riders.
Joining up with them was the best thing I did the entire ride. Heading south on Hwy 101 from Hopland was headwind the whole way. We took turns pulling and when I got to the front, I was so glad that I wasn't dealing with the wind by myself. I think I took pulls that were about half as long as the other 3 were doing, but I just had nothing in my legs. I figured it was just from the two very steep climbs earlier in the day. Around sunset I started noticing a familiar sound from my rear wheel, and called a stop so I could check it out and we could put on lights and reflector gear. Yes, the lockring was loose again. This was at the 150 mile point, so I had made it 100 miles since the first time it came loose. I put it back together and hoped it would make it it the 100 miles to the finish.
I had been feeling weaker and weaker, and was just barely managing to hang on at some points. One of the other riders mentioned that we had about 10 miles of rolling hills just ahead of us, and I told them that I wasn't sure I could stay with the group on rollers, so they shouldn't feel like they had to wait for me. It turns out that everyone else had been thinking that
they might have similar problems. So we headed out into the darkening evening taking it nice and easy and I managed to stay with them through the rollers.
Later on though, I was having a hard time riding in the paceline on the flats. It was taking all of my concentration just to keep on the wheel in front of me, and I wasn't feeling like I could eat or drink safely or even look at my cue sheet, so I eventually dropped off the back and rode by myself. I figured I could crawl to the finish. By this time the winds had died, so being in a paceline wasn't as much of a benefit as it had been earlier. I also figured the others would be be able to finish much more quickly without me.
I was surprised a few miles later as I came to an intersection, to see a headlight coming towards me, then do a u-turn as I went past. It was one of the other riders, coming back to make sure I was OK. The other two were stopped a little ways after the turn. As I was approaching them, I was thinking of what to say to tell them to just go on without me, but never got the chance to say it. We started off again, and I got dropped again, and a while later they were stopped, waiting for me again. Sometime around Santa Rosa I drank a Red Bull energy shot, which helped a bit. We eventually made it to the next control, the Safeway in Petaluma around midnight. I was really looking forward to some hot soup because I was getting cold, but the deli was closed. I still couldn't eat the sandwich I had bought in Hopland, it was just too dry. So I bought some cold potato salad, which at least went down easily. While I was eating, I could feel that I was on the verge of shivering, even though it was in the mid-40s and I was wearing gear that had kept me quite comfortable down below freezing on my commutes. I knew we had a couple of valleys ahead of us that had been the coldest part of the trip out, and would probably be significantly cooler than Petaluma was. About then I noticed that one of the other guys was visibly shivering as well. We all put on all of the clothing we had. I had a pair of chemical toe heaters that I put in my shoes, then I put on my rain booties, my rain legs, and a windbreaker that I had in reserve. We spent over an hour in that Safeway, but eventually all of us were feeling warmer, so we headed out around 1 am.
When we had arrived at the Safeway, there were a few other riders already there who were also suffering from the cold. I think they were planning on DNFing and calling someone for a ride, but by the time we were ready to go, they had also warmed up and headed out with us. We had 4 more climbs to go in the last 50 miles to the finish, but at this point I think we were mostly worried about the cold descents. The hour long stop did wonders for me and I was actually leading on the climbs. I was very glad to have 24x26 gearing.
We stopped to regroup at the top of each hill and pushed on. It was down around 38 degrees in a couple of the valleys, but I was doing ok at that point. The windbreaker made a great vapor barrier, although it was a bit warm on the climbs.
The finish was on the south end of the Golden Gate Bridge, which requires a final climb up from Sausalito. We regrouped at the top and rode together across the bridge to the finish at about 5:20am. I had been hoping to finish at around 22 hours, but I was certainly satisfied with being under 24 hours. Heck, I was just glad to have finished at that point. I have never been so happy to see a crock pot of hot chicken-noodle soup in my life.
This was the longest ride I've ever done, and definitely the hardest. I went home and got to bed at 7am, and woke up at noon and dragged myself out of bed. I was tired and achy, which I suppose was to be expected, but I also had a stuffed up head. At that point I started to suspect that I had come down with a cold in the course of the ride. The feeling of fatigue and aches that you get from a cold is remarkably like the feeling of aches and fatigue after a nearly 24 hour ride. Combining them is not recommended.
After a full nights sleep, I was still achy on Monday (expected), but my head was still foggy all day, which I wouldn't expect from the ride. Today I'm mostly better, but still a little achy and I can tell I'm not 100% in the alertness department, either. Plus, I still have a bit of a runny nose.
All-in-all, it was not what I'd consider to be a fun time. Coming down with a cold in the middle of a ride is not recommended. Not even realizing that you're coming down with a cold does not help. Or maybe it does... If I had realized what was going on, I probably would have bailed out, rather than suffering though it all. But on the other hand, I'm kinda proud of myself for pushing through to the end, even though I felt pretty lousy. I took up randonneuring to give myself challenge to overcome, and I did manage to overcome this one.
Keith