I'm late.
It seems to be the story of my life lately. I got up on time, but I let Melissa and Lucia sleep a little longer then I should. I also didn't do enough prep the night before and left things for the morning that I should have had ready. Result: I going as fast as I dare down Highway 29 to the Veterans Home in Yountville where the ride starts. I shake my head as I drive and chide myself: I have no one to blame.
On the plus side, it is an open start and I checked in yesterday, so there is no worry about not being able to ride. Still, I'm a little nervous because I have never done this ride and I don't want to get stuck in a no-man's land where there is no other cyclists to follow. Have you ever tried to follow a ride sheet? The last time I did that was at the Palm Springs Century, and that was with a group of fellow riders. We got lost twice.
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Base Camp - The Guest House at Freemark Abbey Winery |
Apparently Napa Valley likes to sleep in a little, because when we arrive 10 minutes after the start time, we are able to park all the way up front. I hop out, pump up the tires, get everything organized and get a good luck kiss from the wife (always a positive way to start the day).
I see a cluster of guys chewing the fat two cars over all wearing the same jerseys from one of the local cycling clubs. I don't see a start line anywhere, no announcer on a PA, no hoopla.
"Excuse me, but where is the start line?", I ask.
One of the cyclists grins at me, "right where you are."
"Do I have to check in anywhere before I go?"
"No, you've got your wristband. Take off when you want."
I say "thank you" and we wish each other a safe ride and then I am off. You don't have to tell me twice.
The start is covered with an early morning fog. I absolutely love this part of the country, it is so beautiful here. As I ride down the hill through the mist, I see the forms of a couple of riders up ahead, I hurry to catch up before the first turn onto Solano Road so I don't get lost.
Everything starts off great: like the Goldilocks of the cycling world I find the pace not too fast and not too slow, but just right. Focused on my breathing and perceived effort, I want to make sure that I give myself a nice even effort today. Looking at the map, the bulk of the climbing is in two individual efforts.
After an initial warm up period between Yountville and the town of Napa the pace starts to shift and more riders are starting to appear on the road. Just before the turn on to Redwood Road and move away from Napa toward Mt. Veeder and the first climb of the day, a woman passes me with three guys in tow moving just a little faster than the two guys I am following. Time for today's first decision...
I jump. It just feels right. I catch the last riders wheel and off we go. As we are cruising along, I keep waiting for the number two guy in the pace line to take a turn with a pull, but he doesn't. He just sits on this woman's wheel the whole way. This brings me to a personal point of frustration: why is it that recreational cyclists cannot run a pace line correctly? Instead of each taking a turn, working together and allowing a fellow cyclist to recover for another pull, people insist on sitting on your wheel until you either grind them up or they grind you up. It's just a poor way to ride. After watching this for two miles, I pass the loafers and offer to take a turn pulling, which she gratefully accepts.
We pull each other up Mt. Veeder Road and toward the first real climb of the day.
One of the things that attracts me to triathlon is simply being outside. The opportunity to enjoy changing landscape and the beauty that can be found in everything that is nature. As we leave the neighborhoods and begin to climb, I enjoy the trees and the underbrush off the road. The morning fog and mist keeps everything cool and damp.
Sadly, I can't remember the cyclists name, but I will call her Barbara. On initial inspection, you would look at her and say, what's the big deal? If you know what to look for however, you would think twice and treat her with respect. In, I would guess her early 50s, Barbara is of moderate build, with short grey hair and a sea green Bianchi bike. A quick glance at the rear gearing indicates that she is running extended gearing. The jersey is faded three shades lighter on the back that it is on the front from hours and hours in the saddle. There is a gentle ripple in the side of the calf and around the knee partially hidden by the bike shorts. This woman is the real deal and she knows how to ride in a pace line.
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Mt. Veeder Road (photo: Smugmug) |
As we begin to see the first real grade of the climb, I listen in the morning quiet to our breathing. Barbara is quiet, but the three wheel suckers are getting a little more labored and are definitely not going to be any help the entire day. They have deemed that Barbara and I will do all the work.
I have three goals in this ride today: 1) I want to finish under 6:15:00; 2) I want to attack the hills and see where my fitness is really at and 3) I want to continue to work on my nutrition and get that dialed in for my attempt on the Ironman. There are two good climbs today and it is time to see what I can do.
As Barbara slides over for my pull, I catch her eye as I move up. "I'm going." She nods that she is coming with me. I thought the guys were her friends, but maybe not...
I shift and stand up. I'm certainly no elite athlete, so my explosion is to push the pace by 1 or 2mph. Fairly wimpy, but it's going to be enough in this case. After about 50 yards, I shift back and keep the cadence up. Barbara is right behind me. The boys try to make the jump, but can't hold on and end up letting us go.
As we pull each other up the hill, I can't help but notice how amazing everything is. The road twists and turns through trees covered in Spanish Moss. I just don't get scenery like this back home. Feeling it as we push for the top, the mist is getting thicker until visibility is about 20 feet. I start thinking about the
Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Right at the top of the climb there is a wire across the road with moss hanging like a
flamme rouge from the Tour de France. As we push over, Barbara says that she is going to stop. Without thinking, I stop too. It just seemed like the right thing to do. Years of my Grandmother on my case about manners I guess. She tells me to go. I shrug, say thank you and goodbye and then take off. What a nice lady.
I pick up four guys as they are descending off the back side and stay with them down Dry Creek Road through the first aid station. The pace is quick and we are honestly a little reckless on the way down with everyone trying to maximize their speed. At the aid station, I make a quick stop for water before taking off. I don't wait for the group.
A rider passes me as I am working my way through the Oak Knoll District. He is obviously a little faster than I am and in a little better shape: perfect. I try to pull for him a little along the way, but he is simply stronger than I am and ends up doing most of the work as we push up the Silverado Trail on our way to the Vaca Mountains.
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The Silverado Trail |
As we make the turn onto Sage Canyon Road and begin the climb to Lake Hennessey, he just stands up on his pedals and walks away from me. I end up running into a large string of cyclists making their way up the road and use the opportunity to leapfrog from one group to the next. No one has really got the right pace for me as I slog up the hill.
Beyond Lake Hennessey is the Pope Valley. I think this part of Napa County is too often overlooked. People obviously come to Napa to visit the wineries, but the land here is so amazing and the Vaca Mountains have a majesty all there own. I like to come up here and picnic. Just enjoy the quiet and the land. The temperature is always a couple degrees cooler here as well, offering at least a little bit of a break during the heat of summer. This is my first time on a bike up here and it makes the experience even better. The climbing is moderate up the valley, but people are starting to suffer. I work my way to the Aetna Springs Aid Station.
This must be what the last days of Pompeii looked like (with the addition of bikes everywhere). The aid station is the biggest of the course with the exception of the Veterans Home where the ride begins and ends. People are everywhere and the spread the the organizers put out is awesome. Along with the standards that you see at most events (pretzels, watermelon, oranges, etc.), they have homemade baked goods made by somebody who was serious about the task. I confess to taking a piece of marble pound cake that made me moan out loud as I ate it. Utterly amazing. Obviously the party zone, it was apparent that some of these riders planned to stay the weekend.
Ride, what ride? We have all of life's necessities right here. After a pit stop and a water refill, I head for the climb everyone talks about: Ink Grade Road.
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Pope Valley from Ink Grade Road (photo: Road Less Traveled) |
Just under 7km in length, Ink Grade averages about 5% over rough pavement with some sections in double digits. Shaded most of the way, the climb has a couple of false summits. I was pleased with my effort up the climb. While I did have a couple of
dude...seriously moments, I got through the climb just fine. If I can be philosophical; like most things painful in life, it didn't seem as bad once it was over. While probably over-hyped just a little, it is definitely the toughest climb of the ride.
Working our way off the back side of the mountain, we took the scenic route back down to the Silverado Trail and the push down the valley to the Veterans Home and the finish.
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The northern part of the St. Helena AVA |
The rest of the ride was beautiful but fairly uneventful for me, with one exception...
I kept running into the guy that gave me the pull across the valley on the way up toward the turn to Lake Hennessey. About the third time it happened, he started making jokes about it. He would pull away and then I would catch him later in the ride. The fifth time I caught him was right before the Yountville Cross. Both of us jumped onto the back of a pace-line of 5 riders. The pace was solid and everything was good until we hit downtown Yountville.
The ride posts that you are expected to obey all traffic laws at all times. As we pulled up to a stop sign, there was a Traffic Cop standing there barking at the cyclists that they had to stop. One bike back, I came to a rolling track stop and was preparing to move forward when she barked at me that I had to put my foot down or I would get a ticket. Unprepared for this, I couldn't get my shoe unclipped and basically did a slow topple into the guy in front of me, who yes, was the guy that I had been "running into" all day. Ah friends, it's all fun and games until you crash into somebody.
Fortunately I didn't damage anything for either one of us other than my pride.
As always, the volunteers were amazing. I also have to say that the Eagle Cycling Club did an amazing job with the organization of the ride while still keeping it low key. I would love to do this ride again in the future. What a great way to spend the weekend. The cyclists were very cool, the scenery was amazing and the aid stations were both well-stocked and in the right place. In short, this is a ride worth doing!
Finally, I have to say a very personal thank you to Larry O'Brien of Micro Cru and Freemark Abbey for their amazing hospitality. Also, Larry was kind enough to help me with Hartford Family Winery for the Double Dipsea this year. If I can put on my Sommelier hat for just a moment, you could do worse than enjoy a bottle from either of these wineries.
6:09:08/98.69 miles
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Thank you to Larry O'Brien at Micro Cru and Freemark Abbey for your support. |