Erikas Terrible Two Report #2 PartC

Okay, let�s see if I can finish this up, long ride = long story�So I get to the lunch stop at Lake Sonoma around 12:25 and Lisa and Deb are there to cheer me on. Lisa tells me I�m the third woman in, but I can�t quite imagine how that�s true. I should know better than to doubt Lisa, but I�ve been taking it pretty easy and I know I�m a ways off a �fast pace�, but as it turns out fast is a relative condition. You see, this being the long course, my big goal was to finish, and finishing in daylight would be cake. The idea of actually being the first woman to finish was not even a consideration, not that any of this really matters. Someone like me (read mere mortal) is happy to just make it through without leaving any parts behind. I love to ride, and I love to ride all day long, it is the experience, the places my mind goes, the people I talk to that make it so fantastic. It�s got nothing to do with going faster than someone else.

With that said, as soon as I found out I was the third woman in, some weird primal instinct took over (or I was channeling Claire) and I spent all of 5 minutes at the lunch stop and jumped back on the bike is soon as my camelback was reloaded with Gu drink. I caught up to the lead woman on the road, Rebecca, just as the first climb began and we chatted for a bit about our �favorite� sports drinks. As the grade began to increase I started to pull away. Usually I feel absolutely terrible on the first climb after lunch but I guess since I didn�t eat anything at the lunch stop my blood supply was still directed towards my legs and not my GI Tract. In some ways this seemed like a great and novel way to start the second half. Usually I spend 20 minutes wolfing down all the unusually good food and then cannot seem to ride with any vigor for the next 30 miles. I thought I may suffer later in the day for this decision, but at the moment it seemed to be working great.

The only problem was I was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable in the belly. I wasn�t hungry; in fact it was quite something else all together. Anyone who has spent many hours in a row hunched over the handlebars knows what I�m talking about. So a little stand up climbing seemed like a good idea. Every thing managed to settle down and by the time I was dropping into the boy scout camp by the Gualala River (136 miles) I felt refreshed by the descent and happy with the time I was making. It was around 2:50 when I pulled in and the folks working the rest stop (Let me take a minute here to say that the TT has the BEST people and the BEST food. Everyone is so helpful and supportive, I just love them. And I mean LOVE them so much I want to invite them all to my wedding kind of love � well that is if we lived in a country where the laws weren�t made by insane people, people who think me marrying my girlfriend is equivalent to me marrying a goat) told me that I was the first woman. Okay, now I�m really channeling Claire so I grab some water, some cookies and sports gels, and back on the bike I go.

This year at the iron bridge we head north to Alaska � ahh no, I mean Annapolis and the first climb is about 50% steeper than I remember it from my pre rides. That is usually a bad sign, when the earth tilts on its axis and suddenly a climb that was kinda hard becomes an overhang. Yeah, it�s called blowing, and everyone does it at some point in the ride, the key is how to handle yourself when you blow. There are several approaches people use, there�s the get-off-the-bike-and-stare-menacingly-at-the-ground technique, there�s the eat-everything-in-your-pockets-and-then-actually-blow technique, and then there�s the ignore-it-and-hope-it-goes-away technique. I use the ignore technique, or as Ray calls it the �fake it till you make it� strategy. Basically I lie to myself, �Ohhh, you don�t feel so bad, look at those pretty flowers.� This technique works best if there is remarkable scenery around to help camouflage those pesky signals your body keeps sending to your brain.

Once I do reach the end of the first climb on Annapolis road I begin to suspect my caloric intake has not been quite adequate. So I nibble on my cookies despite the nausea it causes me and I continue to consume liquid calories and the occasional gel. It�s absolutely gorgeous out there and the descents are smooth and curvy, yet another simple happy maker. This is really a great way to spend the day.

The coast is foggy and still when I get there (151 miles), which is a huge relief. I have been fearing the brutal side winds and occasional head winds that I�ve experienced on the coast in the weeks preceding the TT. I mean scary, nasty, hateful wind, the kind that gust so hard it pushes you into traffic and you have to angle your bike into it just to stay upright. Not today, and I am so grateful for this gift of weather. Ray mentioned later that he was disappointed (just a little) that there was no tail wind on the coast because it�s true that can really make you fly through that section, but I�ll take the calm, and the foggy weather seemed to lower the traffic levels somewhat. I only had one or two giant RVs pretend I wasn�t there.

Just south of Stewarts Point a group of four guys catch up to me and tease me about being the first woman. They left the boy scout rest stop with Rebecca but lost her somewhere on the first climb, maybe the earth tilted up for her there too. So I figure she can�t be that far behind me and I�d better get going. Yeah, that�s going happen. After spending all of three seconds trying to generate enough speed to stay with these guys on the coastal rollers, I decide it would be far better to stop and have a pic nic, but since that wasn�t really an option either, I just roll on hoping for a bit of recovery before the dreaded climb up Fort Ross.

I reach the Fort Ross rest stop (169 miles) at about 5:15. This is good, I�m almost home, and I can feel that tiny little bit of stable urge that comes with knowing I�ll be done in 3 hours. I�ve done the Fort Ross climb about six thousand times so I know it well and I actually don�t feel so bad. The rest stop folks (all of whom I love dearly by this point, we�re talking if any of them ever need a kidney�I�m there) again tell me I�m the first woman so I make haste and begin that loveliest of climbs. Half way up the climb I encounter a large pickup idling in the middle of the road as big hunks of wood are thrown from the uphill bank exploding into pieces directly in front of me. I scream, which probably came out as a wheeze and the woman standing behind the truck looks over at me. �Can you tell him I�m coming� I gasp as I approach because given the situation I�m not all that sure she can figure out to do it all on her own. She doesn�t say anything but I can see him now and it�s apparent that he sees me so I figure I have at least a 50-50 chance of not being struck by firewood.

This little distraction gave me a bit of an adrenaline boost and I feel fine for the rest of the climb. I make it to Sea View in 31 minutes and now it really is almost time to open the barn doors. The descent down Fort Ross is nice because it�s down hill, and nasty because it is also like having the soles of your feet whacked with baseball bats (can�t help it � saw Midnight Express when I was a kid, always think of that). The climb up Black Mountain is nothing, it�s ironic how something like that can really disappear when home approaches. I get to Cazadero Sometime around 6:40, can�t quite remember now, and stable urge sets in big time. I don�t see anyone else along Caz Hwy and finally overtake someone a mile or two before Monte Rio (190 miles).

Claire and Lisa are waiting for me at Monte Rio and I arrive early enough, 7:10, that I don�t need to put lights on my bike. I get another cheer from my new family (rest stop workers) about being first woman and they help me get fueled up for the final stretch. Claire is so excited for me I think she is channeling Richard Simmons, and I am grateful for the enthusiasm. Because, while I am still channeling Claire, I am now channeling a Claire that has ridden 190 miles, some of which seems to have been vertical. My captain heads out across the Monte Rio Bridge telling me I look great to which I reply �huh?� I make her ride behind me up the Boho because it seems inappropriate to draft off someone who�s not on the actual ride, and that works out fine since she can then take pictures that will make my ass look like a giant orange moon. I�m relieved there is very light traffic by this time in the evening on the Boho and my journey to Occidental is peaceful enough.

At this point in the ride it�s just about not letting go of the handle bars. I�m tired, and the reason is not because I�ve been riding for nearly fifteen hours, it�s because I�ve been looking over my shoulder for the last six. I am amazed and even a little embarrassed at how much I wanted to be the first solo woman in. So I rode harder than I would have if it hadn�t been a possibility. I�ve loved this ride since the moment I first heard about it, and to have an opportunity to do the long course was fantastic. Now that I�m almost home I can concentrate on how gorgeous it is and how damn glad I�ll be to take these freakin shoes off. Lisa and Deb wait for me at the school with soft shoes and Jo�s BBQ pork ribs. Chris Culver is there and Loretta, and another fantastic group of people I�m completely in love with because they gave me lasagna and garlic bread. Absolutely everything makes me happy now, the color of my jersey, the fact that ants always travel in little lines, the way concrete can seem so much softer than my bike seat. I�m done for the day and really truly happy.

Erikas Terrible Two Report #2 Part B

We head east into Santa Rosa from the Willow Side School and the pace is pretty comfortable. The ultimate goal is to get everyone through the 10 miles and 20 stoplights without mishap, and for this we get a pace car that helps to trigger the lights and keep the group together. I was actually quite surprised by how much traffic there actually was at 5:30 in the morning. But we make it to Bennett Valley Rd (10 miles) right around 6:00. This is where the roadside becomes littered with riders (men) standing in that unmistakable pose, you know the one, the one we (women) can�t do. There are several flats already and I look anxiously to make sure Ray is not one of them.

As we begin to climb gently on the rolling terrain a rider comes up from behind and says �Are you Erika?� I turn to see a gentle looking young man with a trimmed beard and dark hair riding beside me. �I�m Brian, George�s friend.� So we chat for a second and wish each other well and he glides off at a comfortable pace. Now that�s pretty cool, the guy who will undoubtedly finish well ahead of ALL of the riders currently kicking up a storm at the front end of the pack is taking his time and enjoying himself. Ray is up with the lead pack, and we shall now refer to him as �The Hammer of Iowa� (THI).

I get to the base of the Trinity Grade climb around 6:45 (21 miles) and the first climb of the day begins. I have never been up Trinity at anything beyond a totally leisurely pace, as I only ever ride it as the first climb of the TT. That means that I have nothing but affection for this climb, I have never suffered on it, never blown, cried or cratered. I think of it as a gentle rising road of immense beauty and I have never felt anything but great on it. Today is no different and I am a little surprised by the number of riders who appear to be putting great effort into the climb. My advice to anyone who wants to do this ride, if you can�t climb Trinity like it�s a pitcher�s mound, reconsider your approach. With 190 miles left to go, do not spend a single chip getting over the first hill.

The fog is thick and the descent starts wet. I get stuck behind a guy who can�t decide which side of the road he really wants to ride on. He�s all over the place on the decent, and managing to do it at a remarkably slow clip. I am impressed. I make the decision to just sit back and wait it out, I�ll pass him once the road flattens out. Remarkably he rides like this on the flat sections as well, actually crossing over into the oncoming lane as a way of cutting corners on sweeping left turns. I pass him on the right (something I hate doing) while he�s over experiencing the British side of the road.

The long slog up the valley into Calistoga is best done with a group of 10 or more people who are willing to work together to get a good tempo pace going. But I didn�t quite find that group. The guys I ended up riding with would take a pull and then instead of pulling off, someone would accelerate out of the line to grab the front, whiplashing everyone in the process. It was quite an uneasy pace line, but no one seemed to want to do the more traditional �take a pull, then pull off� line. I just hung in there trying to soften the accelerations and decelerations for the riders behind me.

We got to Calistoga (50 miles) around 8:35, a little slow for me, but acceptable. I spent only a few minutes there getting some food and refilling my camelback (yes I always use one on big rides, despite how silly they look). When I left Calistoga it was in the company of a different group of men. Once we got back to 128 we set into a pretty good pace and made it to the base of the geysers (71 miles) by 9:45.

The geysers, I mean THE GEYSERS. It was so foggy you could barely see the width of the road. In some ways that was kind of cool, but there is usually a killer view and I like having some idea where on the road I am. I know that climb very well, but when I got to the top I was almost surprised by how soon it seemed to come. I kept losing track of where I was and there was no point of reference available. I got up the first part in just under 40 minutes and then road the false flats to the descent. About � mile from where the initial fog bank was thickest, it suddenly gave way to piercing blue skies and air that looked like it had come in a Perrier bottle.

The second climb up to the actual real summit/rest stop (81 miles) is much steeper than the first, but I just kept it nice and easy. I was feeling pretty good, some of which I attribute to the amazing powers of restoration that drinking the Gu20 provides. Not to brown nose a sponsor or anything, but I really like that drink. It goes down easy and it has enough calories in it to do you some good.

There are potatoes at this rest stop and this makes me very, very happy. As the day progresses, simpler and simpler things begin to bring happiness. I believe this is related to some form of temporary (I hope) brain damage. But the top of the geysers rest stop comes and goes in a moment and I am out of there around 10:55. I leave right behind one of the Buffy McBuffensteins and I am ashamed to admit, she drops me on the decent. That would have never happened back in the days of my youth, but I am older and more suspicious of gravity now. About half way down I�m caught by another woman who rides with me for a little while until I have the most alarming chain malfunction I think I�ve ever had. Somehow my chain had managed to jump out from the lower pulley cage on my rear derailleur and wrap itself around the outside of the cage. I thought for a minute that my ride might just be coming to an end right here. I couldn�t wedge the chain back into the cage so I kind of positioned it just right and then whacked on the pedals and it popped back in. I got back on the bike but the little group I was with was long gone. On my own to the damn I thought.

I got picked up by a group of guys on Dutcher Creek (102 miles) and we made good time to the lunch stop (108). This is where it gets good, but I�ve got homework and laundry to do now so I�ll write more later.

Erikas Terrible Two Report #2 - Part A

First I want to get some tired clich�s off my chest. �It�s all about showing up� and �you can�t judge a book by it�s cover� and of course my very favorite �good things come to those who wait�, which all translate into �if no one really fast shows up, and I don�t choke on a potato I can be the first woman finisher in the Terrible Two�.

Bill O. gave the pre ride talk around 5:20, warning everyone to ride safely or be pulled from the course, and in fact banned for life from the event. It�s a pretty good speech, and unfortunately there have been incidents when riders put themselves and others at risk by taking chances in order to gain mere seconds. I�ve got news for you camelback boy, Brian Anderson is here and it doesn�t matter how many times you dip out into the oncoming traffic lane on Bennett Valley Road to move up the field, you are still going to be 3 HOURS off his pace, so settle down!!!

It�s time to leave and the darkness of night seems to have suddenly given way to a dull gray fog. Ray is somewhere up in the front of the group, and I�ve been talking to Greg Lester (best Chiropractor I know) but now we wish each other well and roll forward into the moving crowd. After rolling forward at all of 2 mph for about 15 feet I hear and feel something jarring behind me. The guy next to me tells me somebody just swerved wide around him and then rode full tilt into my rear wheel, catapulting himself into other innocent riders. Hopefully he landed on his camelback.

I�m happy it has finally come. Getting ready to ride the Terrible Two is a great way to spend the spring season. It gives you the ultimate excuse to blow off �more important� obligations so that you can ride all day. Doing the actual ride is sort of the price you have to pay for getting to do rides like Skaggs and the Geysers all spring�blah, blah, blah�Okay this is the part where I admit that even though I�ve done this ride 3 times before, I�m still scared witless. It doesn�t help that at the start whenever I saw another woman (30 of the 235 starters this year) she looked like an advertisement for muscle tissue, we�re talking every single one of them was Buffy McBuffenstien. Compared to these women I look like I live on fried chicken and do step aerobics for fitness. I�m not kidding. Really. And here�s the other thing, how come the men don�t look all muscle and sinew like the women? Sure, some of them do, but most of them look pretty normal, healthy and fit, but not Nautilus ad material like the women.

Erikas Terrible Two Report #1

(Live Feed From Erikas Brain)

Okay, finally.

Wow Cowboy, take it easy there.

Ughhh.

Mmmm, donuts...

Dude, tuck in that strap.

Whew.

Ugghhhh.

Uh-oh...

Mmmm, potatoes...

Where the f*&k am I?

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