Photos: Levi's GranFondo 2010

Levi's GranFondo II

The GranFondo 'Medio' loop is about 60 miles tracing from Santa Rosa to Occidental and down the Russian River to Duncan's Mill. From there it is a left turn onto the coast road for some spectacular views of the leviathan rocks over an almost Caribbean-blue Pacific Ocean. The sky was clear as we made the turn and the air carried the cool dank of seaweed soda-foam up the sheer cliffs from the water's edge to the roadside.

This stretch of Highway 1 climbs and descends with wide, sweeping bends that encourage the two-wheeled set to accelerate madly on the way down, tuck tight into the apex and hold as much speed as possible on the climb out. Big ring, all the way. And the road surface, unlike so many in California, is seamless and uniform. It's like the best amusement park roller coaster you've ever been on, but better. No rails.


One more rest stop at Portuguese Beach, and it was just a quick spin down to the left turn and Coleman Valley Road. I'll start by admitting that I had to put my foot down this year. Beth, after training for her half-marathon and a good deal more riding than I've done this year, went spinning right up to the top. This is by all accounts a killer of a hill with some parts into the double-digit incline percentages. The pros have done it in the Tour of California, and apparently they go up on the big ring. I was wishing for a triple because I didn't have enough power to keep things spinning while in the saddle. Standing up, the whole way. Without enough miles in the legs its just a challenge to keep out of the red zone. It is still an awesome feeling to crest and take a moment to look back at the view from the top. We live in a state with spectacular natural beauty, and it is all too easy to drive right on by and never notice it.

Somehow I'd managed to forget that there is still a good bit of climbing to do after Coleman to get back to Santa Rosa. The roads wind between active farmland and redwoods, and there is a beautiful old schoolhouse along the way as well so it is hard to avoid being enchanted by the environment. Through Occidental and over the last few ramps into Santa Rosa, where we turn right onto the local cycle path. Last year, this section was all packed gravel but it was paved for 2010 and FAST. Unfortunately a number of the "Grand" riders seemed to forget we weren't racing and went blazing through, almost obliterating a couple of riders who were out for a casual weekend ride in the other direction. Fortunately the outcome was only skids and hollers.

And with that, we were back into the Finley center where we enjoyed some free food, lemonade and got to say hi to Levi and Ben King (the newly minted U.S. Pro champion.).

As organized rides go, this one has about the best organization and engagement I've ever experienced. The people are all fabulous. The support from the city of Santa Rosa is more than you could possibly hope for, and the involvement of local riders and international pros makes it more than just a training target.

I can't wait till next year. Better get training.

-andrew

And P.S. -- Thanks to the Flying Goat for the free coffee. Superb.

Levi's GranFondo 2010

Months of non-preparation.

Weeks of denial.

A couple of hours driving.

A twenty-year-old bike in need of a tuneup...

Last year was a terrific year for me as a weekend cyclist. 25 lbs. off the waist, 100+ miles a week, lots of climbing. By October, I had pair of centuries already in the legs and lots of motivation. We hit the first-ever Levi Leipheimer GranFondo in great shape. Ready. To. Go.

And it was a blast. That was 2009.

Now 2010 was a blast too, but it was a little different. This year somehow the weekend motivation to ride has been swamped by sloth, carpooling kids to athletics and work. Lots of work. And the mid-week rides that were a staple last year have never materialized. Embarrassing doesn't begin to explain it. Sure, I've had some weekend rides of note -- up the Del Valle grade a few times. A few 40s out and back on Calaveras road.

Arriving in Santa Rosa on Friday night, all sins were absolved. The pre-ride dinner at the Olive Garden (yep, we go in style, people) was a great laugh with our cycling groupetto from southern California. Interesting to think in the few years I've known some of these friends, we've spent many more hours on two wheels than off. As Helene aptly put it, "because we can." Or at least, because we could.

Cycling adventures are wonderful in part because packing is so simple. Gear for riding and a few bits of casual wear and you're all set. Ain't no fancy shindigs to worry about and most of the hotels or motels have a free breakfast. Oatmeal is a staple. So we sacked out at the Hampton Inn in Rhonert Park and within what seemed like moments the 5:45am wakeup call had us up and out to grab parking close to the start. With 6,000 participants this year, it was by far the largest group ride I've ever participated in.

At the start we had time to sip coffee and stay warm, get the bikes pulled together and tires topped off. About 30 minutes before the start I went to put on my shoes.

Where the heck are my shoes? Or my helmet for that matter.

Frantically pulling apart every nook and cranny of the well-packed Honda Pilot it soon became clear that neither shoes or helmet were with us in Santa Rosa. DOOM. So while the others went off to stage with the other riders, I was carefully adhering to the posted speed limit all the way down to the Hampton Inn, hoping I'd just left them by the door in my pre-dawn stupor.



Yep, there they were sitting neatly on the bed. Just as I'd left them. Almost insultingly perfect in their cheery placement.

As quickly as the overly "calm" elevator would carry me back down to the foyer I was out the door and back in the Honda, once again carefully proceeding in accordance with all California traffic laws on my way back to the start. It was now about 8:15, and while the ride had officially begun my group still had yet to start as they had positioned themselves in a rather humble position toward the back of the 6,000 carbonistas preparing their assault on King Ridge.

Using my internal compass as a guide...a tour guide for the back roads of Santa Rosa...I managed to get back to our parking spot, shoes on and rolling by about 8:30. Lucky for me, even with all the riders well up the road there were still a few onlookers on the sidewalk to give me a courtesy cheer with a lone cowbell as I went immediately into full Time Trial mode to try and catch on. Nothing better on a cool morning than taking the old cardio system right up to threshold. Thank goodness for the hotel's 'perk me up' dark blend and an ample helping of adrenaline.

13 minutes solo, almost to the second, till I made contact with the back of the pack and found Lynn and Beth. They were slowing down to wait for me, but I was full-bore, in-the-zone and blew right by. But we managed to connect up a little further down the road, say goodbye to Lynn as she was doing the shorter (but still challenging) Piccolo route, and head off in our little two-person paceline to try and catch the main group.

Little talking, just the rhythmic swish of the chain on the big ring and the occasional 'on your left' as we started passing folks.

Back on track...

What's Shakin'

My parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary this past weekend. A remarkable achievement for them and a delicious (can't keep Mom from cooking, even for 50 guests) dinner for our family and friends down in Los Angeles.

Rather than whizzing down I-5 in our Honda Pilot, it was my fabulous idea to take the Sunrader, stopping at Pismo Beach for an overnight on the way down and camping at the beautiful Malibu RV park for the night following the party.

That was a lot of driving. Again. You'd think I'd learn.

We took Hwy 101 from the Bay Area to Pismo Beach on Friday afternoon. 101 is still in much better condition than I-5, and the gently winding trip down through Salinas and Paso Robles is much more picturesque to boot. While it is a longer trip, it is far more forgiving on the kids riding over the 1-ton axle in the back.

We arrived about 10pm at the Oceano South campground at Pismo. Set just behind the dunes, the site is pancake flat and wide open, but makes up for it with the fact that the beach is just a short walk away down a sandy trail. And leveling the rig using just the rear airbags is pretty awesome too, especially since we arrived late.

As noted, we pulled into Oceano around 10pm, leveled and brushed teeth, then went to bed. The kids had already been snoozing on the back bed anyway, so it was a relatively (not too much wrestling required) smooth process to get to sleep.

Bright and early Saturday morning we were up. Beth and I grabbed a quick walk to see the beach before getting the kids set with bagels and brewing a pot of coffee. With a couple of hours in the rig to go before a planned trip to the beach and on to my parents house, we had to hustle (though we did manage a stop for a 'proper' coffee on the way out of town).

One of the always wonderful parts of any adventure in the Sunrader is the people you meet on the road. Lucky for us (ok, for me) this trip was no different. As we passed the big rock at the Ventura county line on Hwy 1, I spotted the supercamper. Wow. Ryan and Holly have a very cool little rig, completely home made. Ryan graciously gave me a tour of the coach, which in every way represents the comfortable practicality of a professionally engineered design. Unlike the particleboard cabinets of the Sunrader, the Supercamper is made entirely of Nida Core honeycomb laminate. In person the exterior and interior of the Supercamper is slick and clean, and I'm sure with the fiberglass and aluminum joins they used it will be solid for a good long time.

We took the opportunity for lunch overlooking the ocean. The Pacific is stunningly beautiful north of Malibu, with little in the way of buildings or civilization. The view at the big rock is among the more beautiful of this part of the coast.

My parent's 50th was a lovely evening, and afterwards we trucked back up into Malibu to the RV park. The view off the back of our campsite was fantastic, even at 10pm, and the hookups were well sorted and well taken care of. Off to sleep in a new town.

Morning in Malibu was beautiful. Opening the rear windows to see the calm ocean, a few kayakers going by as the mist lifted over the ocean, and within a few minutes hummingbirds on the red flowers of the hedgerow behind the rig.

A perfect morning to lay about, make breakfast and just enjoy the view. And from the park it is a short hike down the hill to the beach too... so tempting.

But we were committed to breakfast back down in Pacific Palisades so it was a quick up and shower (smokin hot water, yeah!) before disconnecting and driving the 20 minutes back south. Breakfast with my parents was wonderful, so well worth it. Oh, and the Charlie Mackenzie inspired coffee cups (the size of my head) didn't hurt a bit.

So what's shakin?
On the way back, Beth offered to drive. We took I-5 to try and shave some time off the journey. It had been a ton of driving to grab two meals with family down in LA, so we were a little anxious to get home. Duncan opted for shotgun for part of the trip, so I took a place in the back. That gave me a chance to see what all moves around and makes a racket while we're cruising down the highway. The Sunrader is pretty quiet on a smooth road, which would be fine if we lived someplace where they actually DO road maintenance. But California is the land of the pothole monsters, so I-5 has sections with massive distortions in the aging concrete plates. Fine in the 2004 Honda Pilot unit-body SUV, but kaBOOM in the old 1990 1-Ton Toyota.

The rear cabinet that houses the kitchen sink and stove is, alas, done for. The whole thing shivers and rattles too much, and a good jolt makes it come to life like an excited cartoon character. The old particle board wasn't good when it was new, and now it is distorted and weak enough that I don't see much alternative to building a whole new cabinet.

So now in the off hours I daydream about cabinet design. And of course, if I'm replacing THAT cabinet, it would be smart and simple to replace the face boards underneath the seats in the back of the coach. They're just as old and worn out as the cabinet and, really, it wouldn't take much to cut new ones and it will be much easier to do with the kitchen cabinet out... Now about the cabinet for the refrigerator...

Maybe I just want a project for the off season... that could be it.

And next time, for a down and back like that, we'll take the Honda.

Bit o' Polish

Most of my time thus far has been spent on restoring the inside of the Sunrader, making it livable and workable for five of us at this year's Tour of California. Just made it.

This weekend, I got back to work on the exterior. I had gone over the whole coach with a restorer-polish and took the opportunity to completely wash it down again before starting on wax. Rather than try and wash the rig again in the driveway under the relentless California summer sun, I took it up to a local self-serve/coin-op car wash. The rig just fits in a bay, and the pressure washer and long brush make scrubbing things down quite a bit easier.

Those pressure washers are also great for cleaning out underneath, in the wheel wells, etc. Much better than my wimpy garden hose and not as paint-peeling powerful as a real pressure washer.

As I washed it down, I was worried about water getting in around the front windows, but the seal work by RV Doctor George was watertight. I think they have the technique right for those front windows, pulling the center strip out of the rubber gasket and injecting sealant between both the fiberglass and the gasket and the window and the gasket. So far, so good.

And after a pocket full of tokens, we drove away down the freeway for a 65mph air-dry.

Ok, I'll admit it. That isn't the whole story.

There were two trips to the car wash. On the first trip, I underestimated the cash required to completely clean the Sunrader and I ran out of time with foamy soap still covering a good part of the coach. So yeah, I was that guy... driving down the freeway in a Sunrader that looked like it had a bad case of rabies. It happens.

Second wash completed and back at home, I got out the buffer/polisher and some new foam pads from Meguiars. It takes a good long while to go over the whole rig (I still have the roof to do) but the sponge cutting and polishing pads are supple enough to handle most of the curves and corners. Much better than the wool/synthetic pads that came in the box with the polisher.

Now with a complete coat of wax the gelcoat has a nice shine to it. Not quite new, but pretty darn close. Next thing on my cosmetic list is the aluminum window frames. The years have worn away some of the black paint and they're looking pretty dull. But it will be a big project to remove, repaint and reseal them.

New shocks might go on first. KYB Monomax are the current favorite, with more research to do.

Either way it is good to have a long list.

Kites

A child will fly a kite on a windless day; running back and forth across the lawn over and over again while the flying machine flails rather helplessly behind. I imagine the kite wondering, "for goodness sake, why can't we wait for even the slightest breeze to do this?"

But one day, it clicks. The kite finds purchase in the air and zigzag sprints turn to thoughtful tugs on the line. The kite climbs, and the pilot learns to coax it higher and higher till the string has run out and the spruce and tissue are just a diamond speck in the sky.

There is a purity in the balance of the kite and the pilot.

The kite wants to fly, its pull almost relentless, but without an anchor it will just flutter and drift back to the ground. The forces on each end of the string are strong, but the system is frail.

I watched that frailty in my son last night. In his summer before middle school, he's on the cusp of taking flight on his own. Making decisions, managing consequences, challenging the sky above him. And then all at once, seemingly without warning, crashing down again.

I imagine him looking down from up there and wondering, "for goodness sake, what happened to the people holding the string."

We're here pal. Promise.


image credit http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Kite_flying.jpg

Red Zone

The Toyota 3VZE V-6 of 1990 doesn't compare to a more contemporary powerplant. Its 3 liters promise a little over 140 horsepower, more comparable to a 2010 econobox than a pickup truck. That means on any sort of incline, the 3VZE has to spin fast to develop enough power to pull the Sunrader up hill. Climbing the Grapevine on Interstate 5 a few weeks ago, we were down into second gear to maintain 45-50 mph.

And I was watching the temperature gauge. High revs, heavy loads and slow speeds are all ingredients for overheating -- something that almost never happens anymore in modern automobiles. The little Toyota didn't disappoint, and while the needle moved substantially higher on the scale it never once approached the red zone. This after more than 100k miles of service. Chalk it up to reasonable care and maintenance by previous owners, and fresh coolant.

Today I took a bike ride in the mid-day heat. That is something I typically avoid, but after a late start and a tire change on the Serotta, it was after 11am when I set out. What had been predicted to be a day in the high 80s turned into more than 100 degrees F indicated on our back patio.

Last summer, on a similarly hot day, I got about 30 miles into a 40 mile ride. In spite of carrying extra water and being diligent about drinking, I hit the red zone and had to stop. Completely. It was the first and only time I've ever called home for a ride. And it took a few hours back at the house to actually recover.

Today, I used some human coolant called EFS, similar to Gatorade but with a better electrolyte content, at least for me. I had good legs, which is surprising considering my lack of training this season, but remembering last summer I was cautious through the entire ride. In spite of my legs feeling good, any time I upped my effort on a climb or a strong acceleration I almost immediately overheated.

And the signs were obvious.

Normal human response to heat is, obviously, to sweat. And for body hair to lay flat -- at least according to the small amount of research I did online after my ride. Today on the road as my core temperature climbed, so did the hairs on my arms. Straight up. Kinda like that temperature gauge going into the red zone. And I got the chills.

Now apparently that little signal is the beginning of the skin's evaporative cooling system starting to shut down. The human equivalent of steam slipping out from under the hood.

This year I knew enough to pull over and find some shade, drink, and add coolant. It was definitely a day in the red zone. But I made it, so I have that going for me which is nice. Now to work on the horsepower. Or at least the power to weight ratio.