Sometimes, I think I am getting too old for this stuff.

A few weekends ago, three friends and I decided we would take advantage of the warm weather and do some riding in the Santa Monica Mountains. Ordinarily, we would start the ride from Pacific Coast Highway and ride up into the mountains, and end the day with a sweet descent and a flattish cooler ride back to the start.

But with the SoCal fires months ago, eastbound Pacific Coast Highway remains closed to other than local residents. We could have taken a canyon road down to PCH and started from our usual spot, but we decided instead to start in Calabassas, ride down to the beach, then climb back out at the end of the day.

Oy, was that a mistake.

We took Mulholland Drive westward. Mulholland is interesting in that it is about as flat as roads get in those mountains, but it is anything but flat. All went fine and thinks really didn't get tough until we did the Rock Store Climb.
Rock Store is only about 1000 feet or so, and I never regarded it as a particularly tough climb, except perhaps at the very end.



But it was hot. And my memory, as usual, was clouded with optimism. (Yea, I'm an optimist ... shoot me.)

We all got to the top in pretty good shape, but the heat took a chunk out of us by the time we got to the top. And yea, there are significant 8-9% grades. So much for me remembering it as 5% or so. I drank water fairly prodigiously ... with Nuun tablets. And also downed Endurolytes like a pill popper.
From the top of Rock Store, Mulholland is mostly downhill to the beach. I say mostly because it has lots of climbs on it ... lots of up and downs.

We got to the bottom at Leo Carillo State Beach and were rewarded by cool breezes. We also stopped at the General Store for some chips and something cool to drink. But what's this? My heart rate is still 110-120! And we had been sitting there for some time. Ordinarily, my heart rate goes back to normal very soon after exertion, but not today. I was relieved that we would be riding the next 15 miles or so along the cool coast, but not at all looking to the long climb back up to the cars.




And oy, that climb. I climb Latigo a lot. It is my favorite climb in the Santa Monicas. It isn't terribly steep ... again to my optimistic memory ... mostly 4-6%.

But as we all climbed, getting more an more overheated (it was 105 at one point), I noted that some of the grades were closer to 8-9%. And extended too. Ooof. I don't like stopping on climbs, but I did that multiple times. I was relieved to see that my friends also stopped for a breather under the cool shade of the occasional coastal oak tree. As time went on, it got harder and harder. I finally resolved at the next shade spot, to give someone my key so that if it came down to that, they could get the car and come back to get me. I didn't think that would be necessary, but just in case. I usually LEAD the group, but I was definitely the lantern rouge today.



After my friend went off, I continued to struggle. And each time I needed to rest came sooner than the time before that. My heart rate was a solid 165 ... not unusually high for me, but took a long time to recover ... even when resting. My skin started to tingle. I felt like crap. Believe it or not, it felt just as bad when I was stopped ... just a different kind of bad.

I was about 1/4 mile from the false summit when I stopped again. This time I thought I would get a REAL rest and lay down. So under the shade of an oak tree, I laid flat on my back on the shoulder of the road, checking out the sun filtering through the leaves.
I think I was there about 5-10 minutes or so, when I heard a car approaching. I gave a thumbs up ... indicating I hadn't fallen or anything, but the driver stopped anyway.

He asked if I wanted a lift, and I declined.

"Are you sure? You don't look OK. I'm happy to give you a ride."

So if you ride much ... especially the endurance riding I have done ... you have a lot of experience with being utterly exhausted, yet screwing up the courage and strength to continue.

But at that I felt something I don't feel very often on the bike ... a rush of common sense. Screw it. I'll take a ride.

My goal was to get to the Malibu Cafe ... all downhill from the summit I was trying so hard to reach. I knew that there, I could get lots of cool drinks ... hell ... even a beer. I envisioned something heavenly.
So my Good Samaritan loaded my bike in his Honda Element (great car, BTW) in a way that made it clear that this was not his first rodeo. And as he drove me to the Malibu Cafe, we chatted about cycling. He was a cyclist as well, and we had some mutual friends.

The Malibu Cafe was my goal because I thought it would be a good place to wait for my friends to come back with the car to retrieve me. Imagine my surprise when we pulled up, and all of them were there! And all clearly suffering ALMOST as bad as I was (I have about 10 years on all of them). I think they might possibly have been able to make it all the way to the car, but not me.

My bud Nora (who I had given my key) got in the Good Samaritan's Element. She was back in about an hour with my van. In the mean time, I guzzled some Kombuchas. Turns out the Malibu Cafe has changed and is now some kind of private club. No beers, but there is a General Store with cool drinks.




Getting back to our starting location, we adjourned to a hamburger stand. And as a true sign of how bad I felt, I had very little appetite. Let me tell you, when I turn down a hamburger, something is wrong. I was weak as a kitten. I used to handle heat pretty well. Lots of people around me would be suffering, but although I would be sweating profusely, I typically felt hot, but otherwise fine.

Not so much now. It took me days to recover.

Just for yuks I looked up the symptoms for heat exhaustion.





Lesson learned: Do not underestimate the heat. Do not overestimate your ability to handle it.

Or as my SO is known to tell me when I am off for a ride: "Don't do anything stupid."