Friends, fun, fast singletrack, fiery furnace
Sweat, sticky, sweet icky ride food, stream snuggling
Happiness, heroic climbs in the granny gear, hell,
hades, heatstroke
Bliss, burning, blisters, beers at the Bartels
(in a nutshell)

-Cathy

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NCV riders: Cathy "too fast for my own good" Crawford, Sarah "track star" Piccolo, Heather "I won't quit unless I'm dead" Cafferata, Mariko "it's too hot here" Fischer

Going in to this race I was a bit concerned for my safety being that record temps had been reached for the bay area that had never happened in recorded weather history.  There also was a noticeably smaller crowd for this particular race compared to the other Hoppers, and they were all kind of known to be a little more of the rough and tumble crowd, no sissies really.  Not to mention that both Miguel and Kim repeatedly stated the need for preparedness due to the fact that once you started there were no short-cuts so you were pretty much screwed.  But, I figured I was going to make it out alive since I had 2 liters of water on my back and a trusty team mate that had been sworn in to not abandon me no matter what, plus she had a space blanket, no joke (maybe this should have made me more concerned?). 

Off we went, up Skaggs Springs Road, and by the time we reached the turn off for the trail head I was covered in sweat, it was flippin' hot.  I had never ridden out here so I waited up for Heather who was very intelligently pacing herself while I was up trying to keep up with the fast kids (silly me).  We hit the single track, and I was concentrating on keeping my bike underneath me because the ground was pretty loose.  About an hour and a half into the ride, the further we got from the trail head, the doubts began to creep in.  It was truly the hottest day I had ever been on a bike that far away from civilization and the terrain was unrelentingly up and down, no rest for the weary.  My camelbak was full of ice which was great, but being the genius that I am I didn't dissolve the drink mix before putting the ice in so all the mix went to the bottom and I was drinking Clif syrup for the first hour or so and my stomach was in full revolt mode.  It was hard to eat, much less drink, but I knew it was essential to survival (and I don't think I'm exaggerating there) to keep up the intake.  So the rest of the ride proceeded in the following fashion: pedal, pedal, pedal, get off and hike up ridiculously steep pitch, eat two clif bloks, drink - don't puke, pedal pedal pedal, hike with bike, eat two clif bloks, splash across a creek & look longingly at the cold water, drink - don't puke, pedal pedal pedal, hike with bike, cross another creek, keep up the self-talk reassuring self that death is not as eminent as it seems and that self will make it out alive. 

Heather was there the whole time, nothing but positive out of her mouth as usual :)  Confident in knowing exactly where we were going and talking about pool parties and house searching to keep our minds off the oppressive heat.  Four hours latter when we got to the water trough and Liberty Glenn campground short-cut, I was out of water and my body was in survival mode, I was having to stop every five or ten minutes to get my heart rate down and stop the spinning in my head.  We sat at that water trough for at least 15 minutes debating what to do, I wanted Heather to finish because it was the last race of the series and she had done every one so far, she still had water, and she was feeling OK.  Ultimately I hiked up to Liberty Glenn because without water I knew I would lose it, and Heather rode on to finish the last 5 miles (which took another hour - yes it's that hard).  When I latter got to the Bartel's I found out that the trough water was drinkable, but I didn't really care at that point, I was really okay with taking the "short-cut."

Officially the hardest day on a bike for this girl.  Although I never care to feel my body suffer like that again, I do want to ride that loop sometime when the weather is more reasonable, I'm guessing it could be enjoyable.  The feet do get pretty soggy after that many creek crossings tho...

Thanks for reading,

-M
*****
Given the high temperatures the last few days, I had written the MTB Grasshopper at Lake Sonoma off, but since it cooled the night before the event  I decided to check the temps at 6:30 of the morning of the ride. They were in the low 60's at Geyserville. This might be doable thought I and abandoned plan A, which was to throw the kayak on the car roof, launch at lake, paddle around in the coolness and watch others rounding the lake on steep trails suffer. I would then go to the end of season party, drink beer, eat, and listen to how intolerable the heat was. I wished I had stuck with plan A. Lured by false hopes the kayak stayed and the mountain bike went.

The Lake Sonoma visitor center parking lot was getting toasty by take off time. Two voices battle in my head. One says, bail out now, you know how you hate heat. The other says, hey, once off the pavement and onto those tree lined trails it will be cool enough to ride. I fall for the lie.

Up the paved road to Skaggs. Not too bad. Hit the trail which consists of slippery dry dirt over hard stuff and try to keep the bike under control. It is cooler up here. Get sucked into pedaling on. Up down, up down, up down and around. And then we enter the unshaded zones.

These are the times when a personal investment in professional psychological help might prove profitable. Why do I do this stuff....repeatedly. But, why pay for help when my riding friends profess knowledge on every imaginable subject. Surely one of them has an answer.

Halfway through and I've bathed in every creek crossing but am still hot. I am also walking the bike...a lot. Three 24 oz bottles, plus one right before the start, have been consumed. The last swallows are hot tea hot. I miss a trail change and go down a really steep service road. Walk back up. Find trail. Continue.

Ahead are half a dozen fellow morons clustered around a cattle trough filled by a pipe with running water. We stare at it. I gamble that if it is really bad there would be a sign so stating. Fill three bottles, drink one, refill. Guardia takes ten days to appear. I'll keep you posted.

On a rocky rutty descent I find a banana bar and a GU. Gobble them down. Keep going. Up down, up down and the temps are over 100. Finally the trail meets the lake. Dump bike. Shed jersey. Kick off shoes. I spend 20 minutes floating, swimming around and diving. Race times are meaningless now.

After the swim comes the  Bum Mountain climb. The water treatment worked. I roll right up it to the top then to the highway. Finally back to the truck. The end of a very painful exercise in self torture is over. Will I do something like this again? Stay tuned.

Cheers,

-Charles Beck
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