Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 7

2013 marked the 10th anniversary of the Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge, and the designer had some fun with the jersey—incorporating elements from past years. The fourth event was my first, and I never would have dreamed I'd keep coming back, year after year!

Hurray for another day of clean air in September 2020! Unlike the distant fog bank in 2013, you will see smoke—not fog—in the distance today.

I may not make it to the Pacific during this series, but I've been able to visit smaller bodies of water nearby. Club rides tend to skirt one edge of Almaden Lake; I decided to see if I could bike all the way around. [Yes!]

There were a fair number of other cyclists out tonight. I found myself sort of mixing it up with a small group of young teenaged boys, led by one who was slightly older. Coaching or instructing them, or maybe just herding them. One was riding a motorized skateboard. The driver who would have failed her road test tonight set us up for a right hook. Instead of merging to the right, behind us in the bike lane, to make her turn adjacent to the curb, she passed us and then . . . stopped. [Think, people. If there is a car in the lane to your right, would you line up to the left to make a right turn?]

I stopped behind the car, since there wasn't enough room to pull around and pass her on the left. She didn't budge, which was the right call because the kids and their leader came along and passed on the right. [Unsafe. They should have stopped, as I did, and waited for her to turn.]

Trying to stay ahead of the boys, I was motivated to pick up my pace: I averaged 12.1 mph over 18 miles, with 320 feet of climbing. [Flat.]

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 6

Conditions were spectacular for my sixth Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge.

When I designed my challenge for 2020, my plan was to ride every day, without any rest days, wearing my event jerseys in order (from my first ride in 2007, to the most recent ride in 2019). My original plan was to finish the series on September 12, which is when this year's event would have taken place.

Then came the storm, and the fires, and the smoke. The air quality was low and the temperatures were high. I delayed the start of the challenge by one week.

Stage 6 was planned for September 10. Despite the previous day's long ride, I was game.

Until I stepped outside. There was a dusting of fine ash on my trash bin, and the distinctive aroma of wood smoke in the air. Just like this headline: Yesterday the air quality looked bad, today it actually is bad. I kept an eye on the local sensor readings and hoped we'd get some wind from a favorable direction. The following day, conditions worsened.

No wind. Very unhealthy air. Thus began an unexpected, multi-day pause to my Best Buddies 2020 Challenge.

If this year's event had not already been canceled, it would have been thrown into disarray: Highway 1 was closed, from Big Sur to Ragged Point, due to the Dolan fire (burning since August 18). Of course, whether I can ride my bike on any given day is truly insignificant, in context.

Blue skies at last, though we still can't see the mountains through the haze. Back to work this week, my best option is an after-work ride. I puttered around some neighborhoods, coming to an abrupt full stop when one SUV driver suddenly stopped in the lane ahead of me, cut left (making a U-turn?), then straightened out and proceeded to back into his driveway. When he glanced to his left to find me (in the bike lane) staring him down, he looked surprised ... but also like he didn't particularly give a damn.

This is the view we couldn't see a few days ago (September 8). And yes, that is a thin stream of yellow-orange smoke above the ridge. Wrapped up Stage 6 with 14 miles, 220 feet of climbing, at a conservative 10.1 mph pace.

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 5

I thought I'd join a club ride today. [More vacation time, use it or lose it.] But after a very poor night's sleep, it seemed more like a better day for a short ride. Or at least a later start.

When the sun came up, the color of the light was shifting from yellow to orange. There were reports of ash falling from the sky like snowflakes, but that wasn't happening here. The sky was tinted in various shades of tan, lighter to the south. Local air quality was ... green? This smoke was drifting higher aloft from fires raging far to the north, and it wasn't penetrating the marine layer.

The jersey from my fifth Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge is great for hot days. Today was chilly. Unsure about the UV index for overcast skies due to ash rather than water vapor, I slathered on some sunscreen.

Sunglasses, however, would not be needed today. In the dusky light, all sorts of automatic sensors flipped bulbs on: car headlights, streetlights, even lighting I'd never before seen on a majestic bike bridge.

I mapped out a route to the Bay; if I sensed the air quality deteriorating, I could shorten it or even turn back. The amusement park, of course, is closed.

I wanted to see what could be seen. [Not much, as it turned out.] I pictured myself enjoying my sandwich on a bench along the shoreline, but opted for an inland park instead. The [lack of a] view and the unnatural colors were too distressing.

Stage 5: Passed the century mark for my 2020 Challenge with today's 44 miles, 820 feet of climbing (average speed 10.5 mph). Still keepin' it slow.

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 4

The jersey design for my fourth Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge, planet Earth with wings and butterfly-inspired hearts, seems a fitting choice for today.

No fog. No blue sky. This is not turning out to be the challenge I had in mind. [This year is not the year any of us had in mind.] I'm in the yellow “moderate” zone; red is “unhealthy,” brown is “hazardous.”

That orange spot glowing in the water behind the mallards is a reflection of the sun, casting a bronze gloom over us all.

I slowly puttered around, crossing above two different highways on bike/pedestrian bridges. One familiar, one less so (and which would have been useful during a different exploration a few months ago). Bike through random neighborhoods, see new sights, learn new routes.

Stage 4: 14 miles, 340 feet of climbing, average speed 9.7 mph. I found a steep little hill tucked in one neighborhood, but the top will wait for another day. No exertion for me, even with moderate air quality (average heart rate: 98 bpm). I had set out to cover at least 10 miles, and decided to roll around a bit more after I stopped recording my track.

The air purifier I'd ordered almost two weeks ago arrived. Finally.

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 3

There was a distinctly yellow cast to the light when I woke up, so I wasn't surprised when I checked the air quality map. Smoke affects the wavelength of the sun's rays. Simply put, yellow means “not good,” orange means “pick another day,” and red means “don't even think about it.” Not unlike the colors on the map.

Local sensors painted a better picture than the official map. The sky was a pale blue, with the ubiquitous  purple haze of the smoke layer hanging just above ground level in every direction. I mapped out a meandering route through some unfamiliar residential neighborhoods, including a little bridge over a (completely dry) creek.

This jersey makes me smile. It makes other people smile (and wave), too. What's not to like about two cuddling teddy bears? [Well, I'll bet this design was not at all popular with the competitive male cyclists back in 2009.] After 2008's baggy “small,” I'd requested “extra small,” which was a good fit ... except for the sleeves. Toothpick arms needed. [Thee years, three different vendors.]

I was in prime shape for my third Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge, averaging 14.3 mph despite climbing almost 6,300 feet. Today I was feeling less than great, with a slight but lingering headache. Could it be that I was (somewhat) dehydrated? For short rides, I don't fuss with electrolytes, but I should have mixed some up for Saturday's ride; today I did, and it helped.

Stage 3: 14.2 miles, 300 feet of climbing, average speed 10.6 mph. [Trying not to inhale, much.]

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 2

On this very date, 12 years ago, I rode the Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge for the second time.

Not my favorite jersey. Baggy, despite being size “small.” And what you can't see is that the back is ... black. I see lots of cyclists wearing black jerseys and it mystifies me: it's not very visible on the road, and you absolutely cook in the sun. Maybe it's meant to be a fashion statement, but the result is that most of my Best Buddies jerseys are never seen: During cooler months I will layer a vest or jacket on top anyway; they hang in the closet during prime cycling season. (Unlike other cycling events, where you pin your number on the back of your jersey, they'd insisted we pin it on the front.)

Today would be hot, which meant that I needed to get an early enough start. I was surprised to see many other cyclists out and about. All of a similar mind, I suspect.

I paid a price for yesterday's ride. Not only had I been off the bike for three weeks; I hadn't been exercising regularly, either, due to the heat and wildfire smoke.

I studied the air quality map; it wasn't good, but it wasn't dangerous, either. I settled on a flat route and planned to take it easy, but still get home with enough time to visit our weekly farmers' market. Stage 2: 17 miles, 320 feet of climbing, average speed 10.7 mph. [Like I said, flat.]

The best way into town is on foot: no struggle to find parking, no worries about locking up a bike. But there was a small matter of a tree to deal with. The path was marked closed, but someone else had already broken through the pesky yellow “caution!” tape.

It was 93°F when I set out. Bad luck of the draw, I stood baking in the sun while one customer engaged the vendor in a leisurely conversation about their growing season and techniques, followed by a woman whose credit card didn't go through and then found some fault with the first pack of berries they presented to her. [Sigh.] My transaction took less than a minute. [Cash.]

When I got back home—90 minutes after I'd set out—I was stunned to see the temperature was now above 102°F. And I'd walked home in that? Carrying a basket full of produce? [The day was still heating up, of course; it would peak just shy of 108°F.]

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 1

Back in 2007, before I started this blog, I participated in the Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge for the first time. I didn't know what to expect. Mostly, it seemed like a handy way to cycle down the central California coast, from Carmel Valley to San Simeon. Impressed with the organization, I returned the following year. And the year after that. And ...

Fast forward to 2020, when this event (like so many others) cannot be held. By the time they made the decision, encouraging us to make up our own challenge, I was uncertain about fundraising. Could my appeal to donors rise above the chaos that is 2020? I thought about scaling back. Unsurprisingly, without an actual event, many folks decided to sit this year out. Those who did sign up have raised little money. Like other non-profits, Best Buddies runs these events to bring in needed cash to support their programs year round (and, to raise awareness).

Who am I? Not a fair-weather friend! The need doesn't stop just because we can't have a mass gathering of people riding our bicycles down the coast.

Then, I had an idea. Challenge accepted. I reached out to my donors, and they've graciously supported Best Buddies for me, again. I promised them I would do something worthy. Today marked the start of my challenge.

I made a late call on what today's ride would be; where would the wind send the wildfire smoke? I checked the air quality when I woke up, and confirmed the plan with my ride buddy. The redwoods beckon on a hot day; the area we enjoyed just three weeks ago was unscathed by the lightning that torched the forest just a few miles to the north. Stage 1 of my Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Old Santa Cruz Highway to the end of Highland Way, and back.

As I expected, there was very little traffic on the route; beaches are closed, and mountain bikers who flock to the Soquel Demonstration Forest risk citations (also, closed). The road is narrow, and in increasingly wretched condition; there are a couple of construction zones, fighting to keep sections from collapsing into the canyon. A vintage red convertible (Mustang) hung back behind me, and just as the road opened up a bit and I sensed the driver would pull around to pass me, I saw a group of fast cyclists approaching.

I did what I normally do in this situation: I eased farther to the left, effectively leaving no room to pass, firmly extended my left arm straight out, palm back, and hoped the driver would react responsibly. Which is to say, stay behind me and keep to the right. [She did.] The cyclists were grateful; I received a chorus of thank-yous, and from a guy at the front, “Appreciate that!” When all was clear, I edged back to the right, leaving enough room for the driver to pass safely. As she did, she waved and called out “Thank you!” [That was a first.]

Sadly, there was a recent local case of a driver who chose to pass an uphill cyclist on a blind curve, fatally injuring an oncoming cyclist on his way down. Note to drivers: Don't do that. If you don't have a clear line of sight, don't pass. Really. On another ride, I've had a driver pull around me and nearly run head-on into another vehicle. Most drivers, though, get it and hang back when I stick my arm out.

At the end of Stage 1, I saw that I was so close to finishing on the three-hour mark. I dug deep, the final turn was in sight, seconds to spare ... and I had to hold up for an approaching car. The total duration of our outing, of course, was longer—we regrouped a couple of times in the shade, for snacks and conversation.

Stage 1: 30 miles, 2,345 feet of climbing, average speed, 10.1 mph (yes, I'm slow). High temperature this afternoon, at home: 101°F. The forecast for tomorrow: hotter.