The Grand Tour Double, Lowland Route, 2011 edition, put on by the L.A. Wheelman Club, touted as America’s oldest double century. The Lowland Route, pictured here, goes from Malibu, (starting right across from Pepperdine University), and makes its way along the Pacific Coast Highway to the Oxnard/Ventura area, winds back northeast to Moorpark, then generally west and then north to the inland community of Ojai, before looping back to Ventura, and then northwest to Rincon Point, near Carpinteria, before heading back down the coast to Malibu. Despite what the profile says, it’s 199.5 miles. Seems as though GPS’s (at least mine) are always off a few miles on these doubles. I suspect it’s because they are measuring horizontal distances, ignoring the vertical climbs of the hills. Plus, I forgot to start my GPS for a half a mile or so. Roughly 5,800 ft of climbing, by the way, according to my GPS.
Malibu, CA, June 25, 2011 – Nothing happens
I did a ride today. Just another little ol’ double century, my third in as many months. It was hard to start this blog post, because you see, nothing happened along the way. No epic rain. No epic wind. No epic climbs. So what to write about? How to embellish … nothing?
Well, not nothing. There was one thing epic: Twenty-six members of the Bullshifters Club from Phoenix did the ride. Yeah, that’s right, twenty-six, and all finished. (Actually, a few weren’t Bullshifters, but they were honorary members for the day.) Eight from the group did the Highland Route. The rest did the Lowland Route.
Other non-eventful accomplishments
I suppose I could also mention that on this non-eventful day, I finished my first California Triple Crown. Woohoo!
I wasn’t the only one to finish his/her first Triple Crown. Scott finished his. So did Fred. And Amy. And Tatyana joined the Triple Crown 1000 mile club for the first time, this being her fifth double of the year. And to top it off, seven accomplished their first double: Margaret, Dwight, Chuck, Bruce, Brian, Simon, and Dooley.
Congrats to all! Including myself!
A 2:30 am wake-up call
The day starts at 2:30 am. Yikes, that’s early! But we’re staying some twenty miles from the ride start, which is in Malibu just across from Pepperdine University. We’re in Agoura Hills, at a very nice Marriot hotel. After driving down Malibu Canyon to the start for the pre-check in the night before, we know it’s a 30 minute drive. So, we need the wee hour wake-up call in order to, well, wake up, and to get down to Malibu in plenty of time for the pre-arranged 5:00 am start time.
As was the case in the last two doubles, I got a solid five hours of sleep. Slept like a baby. Quite diffferent than my first organized double: Solvang, back in 2008, where I tossed and turned most of the night, and then woke up in a cold sweat, filled with apprehension about what I was getting myself into.
There was none of that today.
The early rise left me a little groggy, but somehow I managed to navigate myself and Scott, my car-pooling partner for the weekend, down the winding Malibu Canyon to the start.
Amy and Tatyana at the start, looking a bit sleepy, and … apprehensive?
Scott looks like he’s just consigned himself to a day of purgatory. Ha!
I look sleepy too.
Jim’s got the right idea. Let’s have some fun, his smile says.
A foggy start – and a climb right from the get go.
Jim wants us to start at 5:00 am. But we don’t leave till 5:15. That’s actually pretty impressive, getting a group of twenty-six going so promptly.
Though we are right near the peak of the summer solstice, meaning the sun rises about as early as it’s ever going to, it’s a bit dark as we head out, due to morning coastal fog. Even so, we only need our lights for a few miles, and truth be told, with so many powerful lights from other bikes surrounding me, I don’t need to turn my lights on at all. But I do anyway.
We leave the parking lot and wham, there’s our first climb of the day. I was not prepared for this at all. My back voices its objections. It still has memories of the Davis Double and Cobb Mountain. And in retrospect, riding up Golden Eagle (one of the steepest climbs in the Phoenix area) just a week after Davis had proven to be a bad idea. I’ve been contending with soreness ever since, and figured on this ride that I had only so much climbing in me. I had to use up a precious amount of it right in the first half mile.
The gray skies leave me with nausea, and a headache. For some reason, I don’t like cloudy, foggy weather. It always makes me a bit dizzy. Guess I made the right choice, moving to sunny Phoenix, some years ago. Others around me are reveling in the cool weather (upper 50’s, fog). I’m not enjoying it as much. I guess I’m a true desert rat, feeling my best when it is sunny, warm, and dry.
Soon we are out on the open road, cruising along on the Pacific Coast Highway. It’s a mostly flat route, with a few rollers here and there to get our legs warmed up. The traffic isn’t too bad this early in the day, and we have a nice wide shoulder. It makes for fine riding.
About twenty miles in, I pull my camera out of my jersey pocket, and attempt some hand-held shots of the other riders. Some of them apologize for being in the way. They think I’m trying to take pictures of the scenery (and there is some nice surf out there.) But no, I’m trying take pictures of them. Here’s a few that turned out:
Fred, on the way to his first Triple Crown.
Dwight, (sorry about the bad timing, missing you as you went by), on the way to his first double. Way to go Dwight!
I believe this is Margaret, on her first double as well. You’re a tough cookie, Margaret.
Here’s Tom, and Tatyana.
A few of the riders at the front. We have a nice wide shoulder like this most of the way along PCH.
Our pace-line is impressive at times, with all twenty-six lined up in a row. Here we’re a bit spread out. I try to drift back to the rear and capture the whole pack, but that proves problematic. It’s hard to hold the camera with one hand, steer with the other, and keep up with everyone. I cross my fingers we don’t encounter any potholes. We’re not going all that fast. We average — well, at least I average — 18.2 mph the first 20 miles.
We had one rider missing today – Alan. Seems he forgot some of his equipment, (a shoe?) and could not improvise a way around that. So we missed his steady pulling. At least I did. I remember him pulling us for miles and miles at a rock steady pace during the Hemet Double. Today, the pack was a bit unruly at times. Still, we stuck together for most of the day.
The pack passes through a cutout, near Point Mugu. We’re about 24 miles into the ride.
Stopped, at one of many, many lights, this one in Port Hueneme, not far from the first rest area, around 35 miles in.
We get mooned by the Highlanders
The ride stays uneventful until after the first rest stop. A few miles up the road the Lowland and Highland routes diverge. The Highlanders had ridden on ahead. As we round a corner, where the route splits, we are treated to quite a sight:
The eight Highlanders are mooning us!
Well, not really, for they are still wearing their bib shorts. (Had they not been wearing bibs, what would they have done?) It was a great send-off on their part. Too bad I couldn’t get my camera out in time!
Scott pulls for miles and miles
Earlier in the day, Jim had mentioned that it was nice when everyone wears their Bullshifter jerseys, for that way, he can tell who belongs in the pace line and who does not. Since Scott is not yet a member, he’s not wearing the right jersey, and so I had joked to him that he had to do most of the pulling, as penance.
As we are cruising along Pleasant Valley Road, heading towards the town of Moorpark, I see Scott up front, his red jersey sticking out like a sore thumb. He pulls us. For miles and miles. I zoom up to the front and tell him that, gee, I was just kidding about the pulling. Ha!
A few climbs here and there.
The Lowland Route of the Grand Tour is billed as one of the easiest in the Triple Crown Series, due to its flatness. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have hills from time to time. We encounter the first climb of any significance as we cruise around the town of Moorpark, near a place called Peach Hill. Another rest stop awaits here, and then we have a nice, long, steady descent.
We climb a few more hills, and I notice, with some dismay, that I’m often last up these hills. Dead last. Grandmothers are passing me. Heck, at this point, small children could pass me. I’m not able to conjure up any climbing power. Just how I’m going to manage to do the Triple Bypass in Colorado in two weeks time, I do not know.
Eighty-six miles in, we climb yet another little roller, on our way to the next rest stop. I’m dead last again, and come in a full minute or two behind every one else. We have one more significant climb left, the longest climb of the day, up to Ojai. Will I finally be dumped off the back for good?
The answer is no. Though the climb up to Ojai is sixteen miles long, it’s not steep at all. I keep waiting for the “real climb” to begin, and as the miles tick by, I realize I’m on the real climb. We rarely see more than 3% grade. Still, most of the pack zooms ahead within only a mile of starting the climb, and soon, I don’t see anyone at all. Geez, is this a race or something?
A few miles further, I round a corner, and encounter one of the riders, and then later on, a few more. I’m able to pass by, and salvage at least a little pride.
First 100 miles tick by without a hitch
Somewhere along the climb to Ojai, we pass the 100 mile mark. My average speed to this point is 16.7 mph. That’s right on schedule, for me.
Soon we are in the trees, and ride through nice, wooded lanes, just before the top:
The scene just a few miles from the town of Ojai, the high point of our day, at 822 feet.
12:25 pm – 107 miles, Ojai, the lunch break
I reach the lunch break at 12:25 pm. There’s a decent selection of food to choose from. I have to say, though, that the food at the rest stops isn’t as good as what we had in Davis. At least, that’s my memory anyway. The rest stops in Davis were fabulous, for the most part.
We depart around 1 pm, making for a roughly 30 minute lunch break.
All day long, Jim sets a fairly strict schedule for the rest stops. I didn’t keep track of the elapsed times myself, but I suspect we usually departed in 10 minutes or less. It was quite funny at a few of the rest stops. Seems the Bullshifters are famous for their strict rest stop schedule. More than once we would arrive, only to have some non-member call out immediately, “Bullshifters! You have one minute!”
Ha!
130 miles – The pace picks up, and I get into a sour mood.
We enjoy nice downhill riding back to Ventura, and then ride a bike path along the beach, heading north to Rincon Point, just south of Carpinteria. For the most part, our speed is a nice endurance pace. It is steady, and relentless. By this point, my legs are tiring, and I would really like to relax for a while and spin casually. Every time I do this, though, I’m off the back, and then struggle to latch back on. It seems the prevailing pace is 1/4 to 1/2 mph faster than I’m comfortable doing. It puts me in a sour mood, until I realize I’m just going through the 130-140 mile doldrums. I’ve gone into these doldrums at this mileage, in almost every double I’ve done, with the exception of Hemet, where I felt good all day.
3 pm — 136 miles, Rincon Point
We climb what I think at the time is the last steep roller of the day, (it’s not), up to Rincon Point. This hill bites, rising to 10% grade in spots. I roll in right around 3 pm, and then rush to complete rest stop duties. It’s time to put on my external USB battery pack for my GPS. By fussing with this, I’m afraid I won’t have enough time to fill water bottles and grab food. My rushing is all for naught. We’re here a good twenty minutes or so. Seems someone had a flat tire down the road a ways, and we wait for them.
With such a large pack, we are bound to be held up by numerous flats and what not. And what with going through Oxnard, and Ventura, we have to stop at way too many lights. But I learned a long time ago to use these breaks to my advantage. It’s a great time to recuperate. So I just relax and close my eyes for a few moments.
Also, it’s a great opportunity to ride ahead and perhaps sneak a few pictures in. Here’s one of the harbor in Ventura (?):
164 miles – 5:03 pm. Port Hueneme
We reach the last rest stop just after 5 pm. Our strict ten minute schedule stretches out to 20 minutes or more. They are serving homemade soup here, and many partake. The soup is hot, temperature wise, and they serve it with tiny spoons. It takes a while to finish.
A bunch of us leave the rest stop earlier than the others, with the intention of “soft-pedaling.” And that mostly works, for a while. But after a few miles, I find myself up front, and though I am “soft-pedaling”, I’m like a diesel train engine, and slowly pick up speed. Next thing I know, I’m having us do 20 mph.
A few others complain that we are leaving the rest of the group behind. Yes, it’s my fault. But I’m not too worried. I was pretty sure the others would catch up easily.
And I was right.
As we near the rock cutout just outside Point Mugu, I figure it’s a good place stop and wait for the others, and take in the scenery. I had already pegged this area as being a good one for a few pictures. I was hoping for afternoon sun, and that’s what we had:
Scene near Point Mugu. Not a bad place to spend a day riding a bike.
Looking southeast, back towards Malibu. This is my favorite part of the day. We only have twenty or so miles to go at this point. The temperature is perfect (lower 70’s maybe?)
Sure enough, as soon as I take these pictures, here comes the rest of the group:
Part of the lowland pack of Bullshifters rolls in.
At this point, Jim says, “Don’t worry about keeping together now. Let ‘er fly.” So a few of us take off. Artie and John are in front, rocketing down the road. Scott stays with them quite easily, at least at first. I try my best not get too far behind. We go over a few rollers and I decide to give it my all, besting the others to what I think is the top. I run out of steam right before the real top, though, and the others zoom by. “See you at the finish,” I say to them. There’s no way I can stay on their wheel.
What’s better: Riding solo, or with a group?
At this point, I mostly begin riding by myself. And I’m quite enjoying it. While it is certainly great to ride with a group — and this group is about as good a group as you’ll find — I’ve always been somewhat of a loner, and I don’t mind, and in fact, I sometimes prefer, to ride solo. I can go at whatever pace I want, and be alone with my own thoughts.
One thing I realize at this point: Because I rode with the group all day, I don’t remember that much of the ride, or the route. I’m too busy following wheels, and absorbing the prevailing group psyche. That leaves little room for memories. And frankly, it makes the ride a bit less epic. I’m not out there fighting my own demons all day long. The comfort of the pack does that for me. It leaves me feeling a bit unfullfilled.
Rolling, rolling, rolling, keep those rollers rolling.
While the way is mostly flat, as we near Malibu, the rollers seem to get steeper. I don’t remember them being this steep on the way out. Or is it just that my legs are tiring? Every time I climb what I think is the last hill, there comes another. One was at 11% grade. My climbing is pretty pathetic at this point. I crawl along in granny gear (30×25.)
199.5 miles – The finish! Yeah! Triple Crown City!
The finish does come, of course. Apart from not having any climbing strength (which I didn’t have at any part of the day anyway), I’m feeling pretty good. I check in at 7:33 pm, and thus finish my first Triple Crown. It’s also the first time I’ve finished a double in the daylight.
My final stats:
Departure: 5:15 am
Arrival: 7:33 pm
Clock time: 14 hrs, 18 mins
Time on bike: 11 hrs 53 mins
Time spent stopped: 2 hrs 25 mins
Miles: 199.5
Avg on the bike speed: 16.7 mph
Heart rate zones:
Below Zone 1: 50 miles
Zone 1: 103 miles
Zone 2: 37 miles
Zone 3: 9 miles
Zone 4: 1 mile
Zone 5: Never
Yes, quite an uneventful day
Whew! That was quite a story. Sure a lot of words for a day when “nothing happened.” Ha!
