Home Field Advantage

Wildflowers were abundant on today's Sequoia Century, unlike April's Wildflower Century. The two events, however, are not to be confused. The Sequoia has a reputation for being one of the tougher centuries in our area, and the route masters change it every two years. I have done the workers' 100k ride a couple of times; this year, it was time to tackle the 100 mile route as an actual registrant.

The ride started in Palo Alto and immediately headed toward the Saratoga hills that are just a few miles from home. Rather than getting up extra early to haul myself and my gear to Palo Alto, essentially to bike back home, I plotted my own start. A side benefit was avoiding Redwood Gulch, a “Steep Climb” according to the route sheet. Something of an understatement, that. The first time I was brave enough to climb it, a few years ago, I recorded my highest heart rate (199). I can climb it whenever I want (which is, rarely), and I certainly didn't want to pick my way through an obstacle course of surprised 100k riders on it today.

As I passed the top of Redwood Gulch, I met my compatriots. Uh-oh. Racing kits. Jerseys from Paris-Brest-Paris, the Death Ride, Climb to Kaiser, Devil Mountain Double, and some other event that includes 200 miles and 20,000 feet of climbing in one day. These are the sub-5% bodyfat types, overwhelmingly male. There were no recreational riders (though I would see some, later), and they disdained to acknowledge me with so much as an “on your left,” much less “good morning.” I enjoyed sweet satisfaction in passing a couple of them on the descents.

Highway 9 has mile markers that count down to the summit; you know where you are, with great precision, at irregular intervals. Mile 5.89? Are you kidding me? They couldn't have planted that stake 1/100th of a mile sooner? And so it goes, to the top, which today was dripping in cold fog.

I have been off the bike for almost two weeks, and donated blood 10 days ago. I was not confident that I could really pull off this ride today. Being on home turf, I was prepared with plenty of bail-out options. My legs were already aching by mile 40, on the second climb—ascending the other side of Highway 9 from Boulder Creek. Just go down the other side and cruise home, counseled the evil voice in my head. Let's see how much I'm hurting when I get to Alpine Road, I replied. If I descend that, I'm committed.

“It's all about pacing yourself, at this point,” remarked one of the many stronger riders who passed me. Indeed, I was carefully grinding it out and managing my heart rate. My alternate start meant that the finish was six miles closer for me, but . . . then I would have to ride home.

The lunch stop in La Honda was a veritable garden party (our hostesses, Vickie and Karen, always do an amazing job). Even the portable toilets were adorned with flowers. One of my Western Wheeler buddies assured me that I was making decent time and helpfully pointed out that sunset is almost as late as 8:30 P.M. these days, so I would surely make it home before dark.

Honestly, I wasn't feeling terrible. In fact, I was feeling pretty okay. The prevailing headwind spoiled the descent to San Gregorio and slowed my climb up Stage Road. When I reached the rest stop at the Bike Hut along Tunitas Creek Road, I realized that I was in much better shape than many of my remaining fellow riders. It's not a race; I had done a good job of conserving energy. My leg muscles had attained a steady state of ache and I wasn't feeling tired.

Having reached the top of Tunitas Creek, the last real climb, I enjoyed a jubilant, car-free descent of Kings Mountain Road. I arrived at the finish with ample time to enjoy more food and chat with friends before continuing on my merry way—18 miles back home, at a recovery pace.

Lots of firsts today! Most vertical feet climbed in a day (9,775). Most miles in a day (116.8). Most time on the bike (10 hours, 32 minutes, 48 seconds). Most calories burned (4,498). I did it, and I'm glad.