On Saturday, Mike W., Susan and I woke up a couple of hours before zero-dark-thirty to head up to ride the Mt. Tam Century. As we drove through the city, incredibly dense fog had us worried that the ride (especially along the coast) would be cold, damp and windy.
We arrived to the Start at the San Rafael Civic Center to find a very well-organized event. There were an ample number of porta-potties, a manifold connected to a filtered water spigot for filling multiple bottles at a time, and professional signage that all had Marin Cycling printed on them (the race organizers). I believe this was the 55th Annual, so it’s obvious that these guys have gotten their act down to a science.
A first for me, we actually rolled out right at our start time of 6:00 am, likely a benefit to having a small group. The weather at the start was chilly, but dry and not much wind at all. The first part of the ride was working our way through Lucas Valley with a gradual climb and nice descent down to Nicasio Valley Rd. We were paced on the climb by a city truck that was laying cones for us riders; moving at just the right speed to march us towards to the top.
After a nice stretch of pacelining, where we pleased to find no headwind at all, we rode through Fairfax, which was my first time there. I thought it looked like a pretty cute little town, but Susan was quick to point out that it had been “overrun by hippies”. Quite a few riders stopped at a coffee shop that Mike was excited for, and I was sorely tempted, but decided we would push on; it was already going to be a long day without unplanned coffee stops.
At the top of Pine Mountain, we hit our first aid station, which was also well stocked and organized. They had NUUN on tap, which is what was already in my bottles from home, so there was no need to dig into my extra tablets in my jersey pocket. They also had croissants filled with Nutella; as a rule, I can’t pass up anything with Nutella in it, so I had two. Here’s a shot of the Dips kits getting ready to roll.
As we waited in line for the porta-potty, a ranger with his siren on passed us with purpose, which is never a good sign. Once we rolled out, we only descended about a half-mile when we came on the scene of a rider that crashed out hard. They had him prone on the ground with his jersey off and were working on him; spooked, I think we all braked a little more on the rest of the descent.
At the bottom of the valley, as we passed over the dam at the foot of Alpine Lake, there was a spectacular view of the sun over the water, with the soothing sounds of bagpipes reverberating in the air. Not something you often see on centuries, there was a man, resplendent in his kilt (and Rayban aviators), standing on the dam and filling the valley with music as we passed him. You can see him in the background of this shot.
As we pedaled away, the sound of bagpipes was replaced with the sound of our own breathing as we settled into the main climb of the day up Mt. Tam. As we ascended, I think we were all pretty pleased that the recent uptick in training was paying off, because the climb up Bolinas-Fairfax was actually pretty pleasant, and even the Seven Sisters couldn’t spoil our mood as we passed them on our way to the fire lookout. Here’s mike at the top of Bo-Fax getting ready for the Sisters.
Once at the top, there wasn’t really much to look out on, as everything was blanketed in fog, not a reassuring sight, as we about to descend into it.
One group selfie before descending.
Coming down Panoramic, it was cold, like Tunitas descent cold, except the air was more damp; but the road was dry, so with the exception of some numb fingers, all was good. In addition to the mist in the air, I was a little misty-eyed when I rode past the Dipsea shortcuts where it pops out onto Panoramic. And at Highway 1, as Mike and I waited for Susan to arrive, I stared longingly at the Stile, and I swear it was mocking me.
As a side note, Highway 1 is closed to the south at that intersection, and the thought of a future ride on the closed section of Highway 1 started to percolate. Later, we found out that the CHP routinely puts an officer at the washout on weekends to give tickets to riders who try it. Oh well, there’s always Big Sur!
Back to the ride, we headed past Stinson Beach, which was packed, despite the foggy weather, and stopped at Stinson Beach School for the next aid station. Although this one was still well organized, and had Nutella sandwiches for me, it was right across the marsh, from which was emanating a stench that made us eat and get the hell out of there.
It was shortly after we left that aid station and headed north on Highway 1 that things got interesting. Susan asked to stop because she was having trouble shifting into her big chainring; once stopped, it hit her hard, her Di2 battery was dying, and no longer had enough juice to shift her front derailleur.
For those of you not familiar with Di2 electronic shifting, as the battery drains, the first thing to go is your front derailleur. Once that happens, there’s a given number of shifts on the rear derailleur before the battery dies completely, and you’re stuck in the last gear you shifted to. The thing is, nobody knew how many shifts Susan had left, so we acted as if every shift would be her last.
Susan was in her small chainring, and just about her smallest sprocket, so I matched her gearing and we headed off to single-speed our way north. Lucky for us, I downloaded the course onto my Garmin, which meant that I could always see the upcoming elevation changes (about 2 miles out or so). We’d see a rise coming, and I’d check the elevation and see if it was worth risking a shift or not. We made it all the way to Point Reyes Station without shifting.
At Point Reyes Station, we stopped at a bike shop, but he didn’t have the ability to charge Susan’s system (first generation Di2), so we rode to the nearby aid station, resigning ourselves to the fact that we’d have to make it back with whatever battery we had left.
To Susan’s credit, the next stretch was basically a loop that does nothing but add miles, and takes you back to the same aid station. She could have hung out there for Mike and I, but not wanting to miss a mile just because she was “shift-limited”, she decided to join us. There was one climb that required us to use a few precious shifts on the ascent, and once back on the flat, a few more shifts to get into a high gear. We rolled that high gear back past the Pt. Reyes aid station (not stopping) and were pleased to know that there was only about 20 miles or so left, with rollers and a single climb back through Lucas Valley.
Sometime during the next 10 miles of rollers, Susan and I realized the benefit of single-speed training, as the knowledge of only having one gear really makes you aware of cadence and staying on top of your pedals, especially when approaching a roller. I think we actually ended up with a faster average speed for the last 40 miles of the century because of this.
Once we hit Lucas Valley Rd, it was a gradual climb over 3 miles or so where we were able to keep in our high gear, and once we hit the base of the true climb, we risked a few shifts down and held it until the summit. Again, I ended up climbing in a higher gear than I normally would have, and was still able to make it to the top. From there, it was a nice descent and flattish ride back to the car.
After we changed and were riding to the post-ride expo, Susan started shifting to see if she could find her last shift, but to her surprise, she still had battery left, and could actually have done much more shifting than we did, but agreed that it made the second half much more eventful. She promised to keep her Di2 fully charged from now on.
The food was great, with burritos, pizza, pulled pork and BBQ chicken; I had all but the burrito to add to my ice cold Coke . There was also Haagen-Dazs ice cream and gelato; Mike had both.
So a great day riding. It was Mike’s first century, and he did great. The weather was really just a factor on the descent from Mt. Tam and the first part of Highway 1, but was otherwise spectacular. Susan commented that it was like the tale of two rides. The first, hilly and full of climbing, the second, rollers and long flat sections.
Next stop. . . Ebbett’s Pass!
The Dips Bike Club 