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10-27-09 | 05:24 PM

#1

bigbossman

Dolce far niente

Joined: Dec 2004

Posts: 10,710

Likes: 33

From: Southwest Idaho

Death Valley Century - Ride Report

I finally got home last night from Death Valley, and all during the 10 hour road trip I was mulling over exactly how to write up the experience I had riding there.

Death Valley is one of my favorite spots on earth, and I'm no stranger to its' environs. I'm familiar the geologic and human history of the place, and have spent countless days and hours, both on foot and in a 4x4, exploring the park and surrounding area. It is a geologic wonder, and the historic accounts of personal adventure and suffering are at once astounding and fascinating.

Ever since re-discovering cycling in 2005 I've been wanting to go for a bike ride in Death Valley, and I finally got my chance this past weekend. Now, while I greatly admire those of you that can do a double century, I am smart enough to realize that doing so is not in the cards for me. So, I signed up for just the century. I mean - I've done lots and lots of centuries, and this one was mostly contained in a relatively flat valley after all...... how hard could it be? Turns out, pretty damn difficult - at least for me.

Ok - let's start from the beginning. As I mentioned earlier, it is a 10 hour drive from my house to Death Valley, some 500 or so miles distant. So, I was desirous of company. To that end, I decided to take a few days off, bring the family, and make a vacation out of it. We took off Friday morning, and pulled into Furnace Creek before sundown. Registration was disorganized and took way longer than it should have and the only restaurant was jammed, but we managed to get our room, get me registered, and get everyone fed eventually. Picked up a pretty cool looking jersey, too.

The next morning dawned clear and sort of cool, with just a light rustling breeze. Temperatures were predicted to be in the 90's, which isn't too hot for Death Valley. The only caveat is that the air is so dry there that you lose a lot of water just breathing. No matter - I had two full water bottles, and this was a supported ride so I wasn't concerned. It turns out, carrying and drinking enough water was an on-going concern for me, and most likely contributed significantly to the difficultly of the ride.

If you've never been to Death Valley, the scale of the landscape is hard to imagine. But the one thing that I quickly found out was that it was not flat. Ever. On either side of the valley, there are large, steep mountain ranges - The Amargosa Range and Funeral Mountains on the east side, and the Panamints on the west side. Because of this, both sides of the valley have gigantic alluvial fans created by eons of extreme weather erosion. They are debris fields that are literally thousands of feet thick, spilling out of every canyon. All of this matters because, as I rode from south to north along the east side of the valley, the route was continually traversing one gigantic pile of rubble or another. In addition, the valley is tilted down north to south, so that as I rode north I was more or less constantly climbing as I went. As the route started at -200' and climbed up to 3,000' before returning, it was effectively 50 or so miles of climbing large, inclined rollers. Sweet.

The first rest stop was 18 miles from the start. The route up to this point was relatively flat but still inclined, and by the time I arrived at the stop my bottles were almost empty. No problem - a refill and a handful of calories, and I was off again. After a while, it seemed I was struggling to keep my speed up for no apparent reason, and the sun was getting ever stronger. As I pressed on, my struggling seemed to intensify, and it was here that I discovered two facts - 1) the incline was much steeper than it appeared to the eye, and 2) my back wheel was out of true and rubbing hard on the left brake pad. The vastness of the landscape had served to hide rather well the tilt of the route, and the rear wheel had conspired with it to wear me down. By about the 32 mile mark, I was pretty fatigued, down one bottle of water, and the rear wheel had become unridable. Fortunately, a SAG vehicle overtook me at this juncture, and exchanged my bad wheel for a spare he was carrying. As he advised me that the next water stop was "just ahead", I pressed on.

"Just ahead" turned out to be misleading - the next rest stop wasn't until the 40 mile mark, and by then the sun had come out in full force and I was completely out of water as I climbed the last couple of miles. I was really behind the eight ball by this time, and I seriously considered turning back. I have no real problem SAG'ing on an organized ride, but I do not like to quit, either. Especially so on a ride I have never done, and one that I'll likely not attempt again for a long time. So, I pressed on. The turn around point, Scotty's Castle, was only 14 miles ahead, and lunch sounded good. Besides, I was told by a volunteer that the next water stop was at the Grapevine Ranger Station, only 10 miles ahead.

By the time I reached the ranger station, I was down to the last few mouthfuls of water and, what was worse, there was no water to be had at the ranger station. No ride personnel, no rangers, no nothing. All buttoned down and no one in sight - except the group of riders taking refuge from the sun under the overhang. At this point I was getting aggravated about the constant lack of water on the ride, but I only had three miles to go to get to lunch. Midway up the 3 mile climb, I came across a SAG wagon parked on the shoulder, idling. He seemed surprised when I asked for water, but he did have some so shortly thereafter I did, too. I finally heaved myself into the rest stop and onto the grass, and took a break. Now, after 54 miles, I was totally shot. As I rested in the shade, I saw many people loading up into the SAG wagons and leaving the course.

I ate a bit, drank a lot, and lay still for 30 minutes or so. Feeling somewhat refreshed, I decided to make the run back. After all, it was all downhill, right? Well - yes....... and no. In aggregate it was all downhill, but there were those big rollers to contend with. Normally no big deal, but in my diminished state they were formidable obstacles. Nevertheless, off I went. It was during the return trip that I learned another fact about riding in the desert - nothing ever seems to get closer, and the vista goes on forever. The return trip was almost like riding on a conveyor belt for 3-4 hours. I could see sand dunes shimmering and dancing 40 miles distant that never seemed to draw near, until eventually I was passing to their left. At mile 93 I suffered a front flat, but that was a welcome relief as it meant I could stop riding for a little bit.

All told, I was on the road sun up to sun down, with about 8:30 of saddle time. 108 miles in the bag, and just over 4,000' of climbing. I was one whipped puppy at the end of it, but at least I earned my jersey.

Sunday I took the family on some back country road trips, and Monday we came home.

Random pics taken during the ride (except the first one!):

Cody experiences the desert for the first time. He does not wander too far: