I was never brought up to eat between meals. I know that potato chips, cheetos, doritos, M&Ms, and so on are a major part of most every American’s way of life, but it just was not in the program for my family when I was growing up. My grandmother was a stubborn home cook who eschewed processed food of every type, and was suspicious of the growing tendency of people towards snacking. When I first started doing randonnees, a friend loaned me a book: Sports Nutrition for Endurance Athletes, which I vaguely remember had a passage encouraging endurance athletes to engage in snacking. Whaaaat?!?! Three regularly-timed square meals seemed like the axis on which the entire world spun. Well, unfortunately for me on the Hopland 400k this year, I discovered that snacking is the axis on which my axels spin, and in the future I will avoid it at my peril. That was one lesson I learned on the ride, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy myself; this route has some amazing scenery unlike the other rides I’ve done, and I got to spend most of the ride quite unexpectedly with my sweetheart– the real bonus. Not least, I successfully completed the only ride goal I had set for myself for this year.
I arrived at the Golden Gate Bridge plaza a few minutes after Rob began his pre-ride talk. I had read the info docs emailed to all riders before the ride, so I didn’t miss too much. I quickly checked in with volunteer Steve H, fresh off the flat-tire-plagued worker’s ride the week before, and decided to spend what I thought would be the last few minutes I would see my sweetheart that day standing next to him. We had decided not to ride together that day. I wanted him to enjoy riding at his own pace, and I wanted to take my first 400k slow. He had stationed himself and his gorgeous black Toei right at the entrance to the bike path over the bridge, so as soon as the RBA called time, he would ride out in front of the crowd. Randonneurs sometimes ride like a pack of lone wolves, and when confronted with a narrow passage and a crowd of us, you can never be quite sure what you’re going to get. Anyway, since I happened to be standing next to John to give him a smooch before the ride started, I ended up at the front of the pack. Somehow I held with the lead group, or maybe the second-to-lead group, all the way to Fairfax.
I got dropped on White’s Hill by Theresa L, my flèche teammate, and others, but I was pretty happy to be starting the brevet so much farther ahead than I am when I employ my usual strategy of letting most of the riders go by before starting out. I had no idea what the day would bring, and had been startled to pass John when I was riding with the fast group in Ross. Some riders advise to keep in mind the phrase “This too shall pass” while going through bad or difficult stretches in a ride. I would modify it slightly: “As ye pass, shall ye too be passed.” So, I had a feeling I would see John again. I knew I would get tired before too long and he would pass me.
We saw each other on Petaluma-Point Reyes Road, on the way to Hicks Mountain. I fell in with John’s cadence for a while, a cadence to which I’m well-accustomed by now. He wanted to take a nature break at the top. While he did, I got some snapshots of the beautiful view.
Walking back to his bike, he said, “Why don’t we ride together for a while? It might be nice to ride the whole day together–it’s going to get windy, and you can draft me.” So I did. We rode together for the entire remainder of the ride, which was fantastic. He was right; before too long, we began to encounter some massive headwinds. The winds were not as strong as the ones on the fleche outside of Salinas on the way to the Great Artichoke. They were a lot more constant, though, and persisted through the next near-hundred miles.
John valiantly allowed me to draft him nearly the whole duration of the rest of the day, Velocio bless him. I attempted to do my part by speeding up my necessities at controls and, um, laughing at his jokes. I also tried to ride out in front for a while, but I couldn’t keep a constant speed due to an equipment malfunction in my cyclocomputer having something to do with putting fresh batteries in it.
I did pull a little bit of the way through Westside Road, when Willy N. started drafting us.
Willy is one of the most experienced randonneurs I know, and I’ve had many pleasant exchanges with him in regard to the permanents he owns that I ride from time to time, but when he started heckling John about his mudflap and about the fact that he was riding in his shorts liners, I started to feel a bit turned off by that. Oh well. Before long, John started heckling me about the fact that I can’t take pictures backwards with my camera!
OK, maybe he was right. No matter, we were not far from the most beautiful part of the ride: CA128 and Mountain House Road. Quiet and lovely.
A constant climb through moss-laden trees.
Shady and sweet. Lots of QT with the BF, listening to his silly jokes, but also riding quietly.
There’s a fun descent in there, a quick stop in Cloverdale, and I know I am confusing the order of things but eventually at the top of a climb we see Hopland in a valley not too far away. I am greeted in Hopland by a table covered in a cool old handmade rug and full of well-treated spokeshaves!!!
Spokeshaving is my favorite part of bookbinding, and although I do not need another one because mine is perfect, I’ve often pondered collecting spokeshaves for a potential class I could teach on the topic… John calls out to remind me why we are here at the Hopland Valero Gas Station, and I run over to get my slice of delicious pizza. It really was delicious. However, it was only one piece, and liquids were the only other thing I felt like downing. So I had a few kinds of juices with my pizza, and then our time at the Valero was up. I got back on my bike in somewhat of a daze, eager to begin the portion of the ride with the wind, once in our faces, instead at our backs.
And oh yes, that was a sweet, sweet tailwind. We rode with that tailwind down Highway 101, back through Cloverdale, and all the way down to Petaluma and more. What was even better was we picked up another rider on Chalk Hill Road who was so pleasant, we stuck with him all the way back to San Francisco!
Thanks Andy for being so fun. Unfortunately, my stomach had completely soured by the time night fell; I was starving, but no food seemed appealing. We even stopped at Denny’s in Petaluma and got hot coffee, milkshakes and fries (now established for me as a power meal) and I still did not feel better. I remember going to the ladies’ room at the Denny’s and catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror and feeling a little frightened. Frightened at how I looked, and frightened that there were still over 40 miles to go! I also remember sitting in the booth and watching the occasional randonneur pass by the Denny’s without stopping, and thinking, “My boyfriend is a genius for having the idea to stop here.” (The control in Petaluma is the Safeway, but at that time of night– 10:00 or so– the Safeway has no deli or soup, and even during daylight hours, no booooths.)
It was a tough shlep for me from Petaluma to San Francisco; I felt really bad about dragging behind John and Andy on that climb out of Petaluma. Usually I try to keep my spirits a bit brighter in spite of difficulty on a ride. Some random cop car slowed down next to me on the climb up Red Hill and seemed to want to make small talk about the fact there were bike riders! on the road! at night! what are we doing! and so on. I really did not feel like chatting in any way whatsoever, and thankfully he rode off. I would have to define that as the ride’s low point.
I believe Andy gave me an Ensure at some point just past Nicasio and I started to feel a little better again. There was no making up for lost calories, though, so by the time we finished I was pretty well-cooked. It is hard for me to imagine, knowing my always-inexhaustible appetite, how I could have had no appetite at the finish for any of the food they had there, but there it was: all I consumed was peppermint tea, thank Jehovah they had it. John and I snuggled for a bit in a double-wide camp chair, but eventually had to part ways.
Another long day with a lot of ups and downs… But seriously, this was an important ride for me, another milestone. Last year when I did the 300k after having done two 200k rides, I felt totally whupped, but I have done two more since then, and now I enjoy that distance very much. I was lucky that first time, in that I met a good friend (Jim G) who also gave me an Ensure around Nicasio! The week after the 400k, John and I went on a short bike tour with some friends, and for whatever reason, discovered some great snacks: pretzels, dried pineapple, and dried mango slices doused in chile powder-mmmm! Snacking is ok if it’s not junk food, right? I just hope Grandma Roz is not rolling in her grave right now.