The Near-Death Ride

Ok. So I’m exaggerating, but I thought I was ready for the challenge of the Ebbett’s Pass Century, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.

The weather was perfect as we gathered at Bear Valley for the start of the ride. All told, it was Paul, Mike B, Eduardo, Tom, MJ, Jorge, Susan, Marty, Anna, Chris, Jeff and Jason. Sorry Jeff and Jason, looks like Paul needs some work on his selfie skills because you two slid off the group shot.

Before heading east to the major climbing, we headed west to Spicer Reservoir for a beautiful view of the sun rising up over the water. It was a an awesome ride on Spicer Reservoir Road, with fresh legs and hardly any vehicles. We got our first stamp (out of 4) on our “passports”, fully anticipating we would collect all of them before the end of the ride.

Here’s a shot of Marty and I looking like the Creatures of the Black Lagoon emerging from the water.

After refueling, we headed back to Bear Valley, already having wiped out a quarter of the miles for the day. Feeling good, we unloaded any extra clothing since it had warmed up nicely. There wasn’t any need for that jacket anymore, right? And full-fingered gloves? That would only take up valuable jersey pocket space.

As we headed East towards the real climbs, spirits were high, and and climbing up to the Mosquito Lake aid station was amazing, with roads that seemed to be made for cyclists and a gentle grade to another beautiful alpine lake.

Here’s the Dips ready to roll out from the Mosquito Lake aid station. We were looking forward to more beautiful riding ahead; after all, look at the phenomenal weather at the lake!

Right after leaving the Mosquito Lake aid station, we were set to descend Pacific Grade, with its’ infamous section of 24% grades, it was fun going down, but we also knew we would have to ride back up it. . . or would we? But before descending, we stopped to drink in the spectacular view of Hermit Valley and the glorious weather we were enjoying.

In the next two shots, the first one is a picture I took of Tom while he was taking a selfie, and the second shot is Tom’s selfie he was taking.

The descent down Pacific Grade was fast, twisty and fun, and after the briefest of flat sections at the bottom, we began the climb up the western side of Ebbett’s Pass. It was a tough climb, but everyone climbed at their own reasonable pace, and mine matched up with Tom’s as we kept each other company while we marched up the mountain.

We felt the first raindrops with just with about 3 miles to go until the aid station at the summit. We knew there was a 35% chance of thundershowers, and a few clouds had formed overhead, but we had difficulty determining which one even looked remotely like a rain cloud. Putting that aside, we put our focus back to the task at hand, which was turning our pedals up towards the top.

With about a mile to go, the random raindrops began to get more organized, and by about a half mile to go, it began to rain in earnest. As we reached the aid station, the hail started and the temperature dropped about 10 degrees.

So that was the bad news; the good news is we were under a canopy, Sierra storms usually pass in about a half-hour, and this aid station had camping chairs, Oreos, and espresso! So while we huddled to stay warm, we contemplated our situation and some choices began to form: 1.) Go west, with a wet, rainy descent back to Bear Valley and a warm car; or 2.) Go east with a wet, rainy descent away from the car towards Markleeville and our next stamp for our passport. In true Dips fashion, we realized that we had to try to finish the ride; what we didn’t realize was that while were walking around in the rain-soaked ground, some of our cleats were filling up with a wet past of Sierra mud that made it difficult to clip in for some, and impossible to clip out for others.

It took a while, and it splintered the group, but eventually everyone was able to roll out down the eastern slope of Ebbett’s except for Susan, who actually had to take her foot out of her shoe to get off her bike. After being unable to get her cleat to function properly after a lot of effort (thanks to Jason), she begrudgingly called it a day and took a SAG wagon back to the car. Later, she would realize that it was the best thing that could have happened to her.

The descent down the eastern side of Ebbett’s was truly wet and treacherous, but only for the first couple of miles, then in true Sierra form, the rain stopped and the roads miraculously dried immediately, and we were left with one of the most spectacular descents in recent memory. After reaching the bottom, there were several miles of a slight downhill grade that made it easy to hit 25 mph spinning easy in your highest gear, reaching a beautiful river at the bottom of the valley.

I had done the entire descent by myself, and was happy to spot Tom taking pictures of this river, and together, we headed towards Markleeville and our next stamp, but not before stopping at this spectacular view of another river valley that looked straight out of a Hollywood western.

When we got to the Markleeville aid station, we found Mike B, Paul, Marty, Jeff, MJ, and Chris. The food at the aid station was seriously lacking, but we did get our stamp, and MJ gave us a handful of delicious bacon from his bike bag (seriously). As we headed back towards Ebbett’s, other Dips began passing us in the other direction. First there was Jorge, who waved and continued towards the aid station, followed by Anna and Jason, who decided to forego the next stamp at the aid station and turned around to join our group on the climb up Ebbett’s.

The climb up the eastern side of Ebbett’s is long; remember that gradual downhill that made it so easy to hit 25mph? It works against you on the way back, and by the time you hit that cow guard that marks the “real” climb, you’ve already blown some matches. So as Paul, Anna and Jason started gapping the rest of group, I stayed with them for a while, before realizing that I still had the infamous 24% grade of Pacific Grade to contend with, so I backed off and drifted back down, first to Chris, then to Jeff; this is when the rain started again.

This time, there was no sneaking up on you, the rain just came, and came hard. I was quickly soaked to the skin, and stopped to pull my arm warmers up (a little too late). Pulling up wet arm armers over wet arms takes a bit of time, and afterwards, I decided I may as well wait for the next Dips to come up the hill so I’d have company for the rest of the climb. That next Dips was Tommy and he was great horse to hitch my wagon to. Tom was determined to do the full 100 miles, and nothing was going to deter him, so once again, the two of us matched pedal strokes up Ebbett’s, this time on the other side.

As we climbed, I was having flashbacks to the infamous aborted Lake Tahoe ride in the freezing rain. I was losing feeling in my hands, my teeth were chattering, and as we crested at the aid station, I began to get the shivers. The cold rain continued.

When we arrived at the aid station, Tom and I figured the rest of the group would have already left, and we were right; what we didn’t expect to see was Jorge there taking our picture. He had jumped into a car about 5 miles down the hill, knowing that his legs just weren’t there to get him up any other way. What he didn’t know was that he wouldn’t be the only Dips to climb into a car that afternoon; in fact, at the aid station were two women who were waiting with their cars to SAG riders in distress. I thought long and hard about that, but in the end, refused to believe that I fell into that category, and rolled out with Jorge and Tom down the western side of Ebbett’s towards Pacific Grade. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I was being an idiot.

Descending down Ebbett’s in the freezing rain required a lot of brake modulation, at least it did for the three of us, as MJ flew by us on a straightaway going about 50 mph, it was clear that he didn’t share our need for brakes. But with all that braking, my hands quickly grew more and more numb until I lost all feeling in them, sometimes wondering if I was even applying the brakes or not. As we approached the bottom, I was wondering why my bike wasn’t shifting, thinking I had some sort of mechanical problem, then I realized that it wasn’t the bike, my fingers weren’t even near the shifters as I was trying to depress them (even with electronic shifters). This was when I knew my day was finished and I would gladly say yes to the first SAG opportunity that presented itself, which was right at the bottom of Ebbett’s.

The SAG was driven by Charlie, who had himself been SAG’d earlier in the afternoon, and was now paying it forward by picking up other riders, in this case, myself and Jorge. He was a nice guy, and his car was warm. As we drove the 15 or so miles back to Bear Valley, we asked each of the other Dips ahead of us if they needed a ride, and I’m proud to say that none of them took us up on the offer. We also passed Susan, who was going in the other direction. She had SAG’d some riders, and was going back to scoop up any of the Dips still behind us. Thanks to her stubborn cleat, she was nice and dry.

With varying degrees of resistance, she picked up Marty and Eduardo, but Tom refused a ride, deciding to push onward. On her way towards Bear Valley, she found MJ standing on the side of the road, unable to pedal another stroke, and threw his bike on her car and drove him back as well.

Meanwhile, back at Bear Valley, the riders started to straggle in, frozen to their core, but making it back under their own power. In the end, only Tom and Jeff did every mile (there was a detour to Bear Valley resort to get full credit), but I think everyone was proud of the effort they made on this day, and nobody could have cared less about those fricking stamps!

Later that evening, the personal stories (and tequila) was flowing!