Wednesday’s spin class was pretty good. I ate a protein bar about two hours before the class and didn’t feel like throwing up for a change. We worked on “spinning” the cranks 360°. Instead of just pressing down on the pedals, real cyclists apply pressure to the pedals at all times. I thought I was okay at this but the first drill proved me wrong. We unclipped one leg and tried to spin 80 RPM with the other. It was HARD, but it showed you where in the stroke you were weak and needed to improve. Then we switched to the other leg. After a few minutes of that, we did a normal class with an eye toward our technique.
Today, we rode out of Santa Cruz at 7:15 and did our longest ride yet: 80 miles. We left right around sunrise and the weather was clear and cold. It felt funny putting sunscreen on under my arm warmers, but I knew it would be sunny later and didn’t know how long we’d be on the road. Turns out I kept them on the whole time, but I think the sunscreen on my face, neck and ears was a good thing.
We stayed on Hwy 1 for a good bit of the ride with excursions into the inland valleys and hills for some terrain. Total elevation gain according to my GPS was 4,235′, but we never climbed anything higher than 500′.
We turned off Hwy 1 for the first excursion and rode down into a valley on Swanton Road. It was freakin’ cold! There was frost on the grass next to the road. We were in the shade for about two miles and I was GLAD to hit a sunny climb, even if it was the tallest one of the ride. (Of course, I didn’t know that at the time.) Four miles later, I was at the top. Three miles after that, I was back at Hwy 1 waiting for my team. On the way up, the fast group passed me on the climb like I was a statue. So I guess riding a bike is like riding a motorcycle at the track; just when you think you’re doing good, the real talent shows up and makes you humble again.
We had a rest stop at mile 26, the intersection of Hwy 1 and Gazos Creek Road. I made sure to eat quite a bit because I didn’t eat a big breakfast and I didn’t want to bonk later. This would turn out to be a good thing.
After the break, we headed up Gazos Creek to Cloverdale and another little climb. I remember this road from my early days of motorcycling. A group of us approached from the other direction (Pescadero Road) and right where the fast sweepers end, it climbs a bit and turns tight and twisty. That’s where Dylan’s friend Mike crashed. He was okay, but that was the first crash I experienced (second-hand) and it stuck with me.
When we picked up Pescadero, we were on a road we’d ridden during the Half Moon Bay ride a month ago. We turned left toward the coast, then right on Stage Road and a few more short, steep climbs. At Hwy 84, we turned left toward the coast again and started back to Santa Cruz. There are some rolling hills, but nothing too steep, high or long. We practiced pace lining a bit but also broke up into informal touring sections where we could take in the sights. It was a spectacular day. The mustard flowers were out in full force, carpeting the flats in bright yellow. We also stopped at the Pigeon Point lighthouse for our last rest stop of the day. I should have eaten more here because we still had about 25 miles to go and my legs were really tired by the end of the ride. Not a normal tired, more like I was within a few miles of bonking. Next time, I’m going to eat at every rest stop!
When we rolled back into the Natural Bridges parking lot, I had to pee really bad. There was some kind of event going on with people and booths and food and stuff. So naturally, there was a line for the bathroom. But at least I didn’t have to wait until I got home, so it was all good.
Next week is a buddy ride, so it won’t be as intense or as long as this. Then the week after that, we do another 80 miler on this side of the Santa Cruz mountains. I hope to finish that one in better shape, to eat more and feel better at the end of the ride. And to get some extra little rides in during the week so I can get used to this damned seat! Around the 70-mile mark, I was squirming around trying to get comfortable. Thirty more miles of that and I won’t feel like partying—or sitting down—afterward!