Rest Stop #1 was pure chaos, I loved it. Everybody scrambling, shoving food in their faces and feverishly trying to get their water bottles filled. The volunteers were spectacular, very helpful and in huge force.  The grub selection was endless. I think I grabbed a PBJ, banana, muffin, and a cookie or two. Once my water bottles were filled up I was back onto Beaumont to tackle the first big climb. It’s definitely up there in shear difficulty, hitting you with 10% plus for substantial stretches. But, having ridden it the previous Saturday, I knew exactly what was on the menu and was at the top in short order.  As you might expect it took its toll on the group. I must have passed 50 plus riders along the way. Some were already resting along the roadside. I did not envy their condition, especially at this early stage in the ride.

 

Just before the summit, the Grim Reaper was cheering us on snapping pictures.  Out of the back of his van Billy Idol was blasting “White Wedding”. I swear my cadence increased 37% just hearing that tune.

 

There was one last short little climb before I got to the actual summit at Glen Oaks and I didn’t use it as an excuse to rest my legs. I powered through this section to get myself to the descent that led to the 2^nd rest stop.  I was surprised as I passed just about everybody on the way down. I’m not that exceptional a descender and being 6’1” and rather light (under 160 pounds) the larger guys tend to leave me in the dust. However, I passed at least what appeared to be fairly good riders in large numbers. Several got on my wheel but when they tried to pass the wind would forced them to drift back. Not sure what was up, but I’ll take it where ever I can get it at my age.  This is a really great descent too. The speeds weren’t that high, but the road let you open up and hold a tuck for the majority of the ride down. With a 53/12 combo I quickly spun out at about 36 mph. With better gearing the speeds could definitely increase.

 

I ended up in a three man as we approached Bryant. We all dutifully stopped and then made the right turn. At this point my left leg started cramping all of a sudden. For a moment I thought “oh no, this could be a ride ender". I stood up and continued to pedal and within a few seconds it worked itself out. I pulled them all the way to 38 and into Rest Stop #2. More wonderful chaos.  I’ll never understand those guys who can’t let go of their bikes at the stops. They roll them right up to the table like it’s their prom date. Are they scared someone will ride off with it?  Maybe it’s a testosterone thing, but whatever the reason it makes getting to the goodies a bit difficult. When I throw my 2000 Litespeed Classic down my only worry is somebody mistaking it for trash and tossing it in a dumpster. One of the riders actually asked for a napkin!

 

I think at this point I was still under the 3 hour mark with 43 miles under my bibs. Breaking the six hour barrier was still possible.  Now the fun really began, 30 miles of almost continuous climbing.  Not steep, but long.

 

About half a mile into it the first group of hammerheads caught me. They were plowing along breathing heavy, covered in salt and moving.  Holding that pace at this point was testament to their strength or stupidly. It turned out to be strength because I never saw them again until I reached the top. 

 

The group was really stretched out long Damnation Alley and I gradually overtook more riders, but it took a long time. I got passed a few times myself, but never encountered a group of more than three riders together. The road had a fantastic shoulder as we paralleled the river bed. The temperature was mild and I think a tailwind was developing. The grade never seemed to exceed 6% which was fine with me.

 

My feet started to burn pretty bad about this time even though I’d been loosening the buckles as my feet expanded. I had read that pulling up on the pedal strokes helped and at certain points that was all I was doing.  My stubbed toe from the Stagecoach crash was also bothering me, but I couldn’t do anything about that.

 

Somewhere along the way I made a sweeping left turn onto a steeper grade. As I made the turn I saw some poor guy losing his lunch behind a road sign. Man this was a tough ride!  Then came the pull up to Angeles Oaks.  I have to admit that all along this part of the course as I was passed by guys who were obviously in fantastic condition almost every one of them had something nice to say. “Good job”, or “Hi”, or “Your making good time”. This was just a fantastic experience on a ride of this caliber to have guys like this even recognize my existence.

 

The run up to Angeles Oaks didn’t take that long and was beautiful.  It really just meandered along the mountain side, mostly in the shade. At Rest Stop #3 the crowd had definitely thinned out. They had drinks on ice and bacon. I passed on the bacon.  While I was enjoying a Pepsi I finally took the time to scope out some of the other bikes. There were quite a few tri bikes with full aero bars which I couldn’t figure out. On the climb I’d seen several folks struggling on these contraptions much to my puzzlement. Perhaps they possessed some special attributes I am unaware of, but for the most part they seemed ill-configured for a ride of this magnitude?

 

With water bottles filled once more (at this point I’d consumed at least 4 20 oz bottles) I hit the road. Now I was really alone. For almost 5 miles my only encounter was with a tandem that powered by on a small descent. Until I got to mile 62, this part of the course was sort of an up and down affair. I hadn’t really figured that into my calculations and as a result got further along than I expected. Then, with a final 300 ft descent the last big climb confronted me, 2,200 feet in 12 miles.

 

By this time it was getting pretty hot. Along this section I would zero in on a rider ahead of me and ever so slowly reel him in. One fellow I must have tracked for 10 miles, but I swear I can’t remember what his jersey said as I silently passed him.  Several ace riders rode by me during this time too, some having leisurely chats as they pedaled along. All had something positive to say which I greatly appreciated.

 

I was arguing with myself internally about whether the summit was at 74 or 76 miles. I knew it was around 8,200 feet and my altimeter was betting on 74 miles. This came to about 240 feet per mile and so far the math had been nuts on. I also kept watching the clock on my Garmin. It really seemed possible to summit in under six hours, but my legs were starting to cramp badly. I mean REALLY badly. I had to stand up constantly to prevent them from locking up. My feet started hurting again too.  My toes and the balls of my feet felt like they were in a vice. I won’t trouble you with a description of how my butt felt. It was only two miles from the summit and I was in jeopardy of having to stop if I couldn’t power through it. I decided what the heck and just started pounding. I felt like I had nothing to lose.

 

The last few turns clicked by and I managed to catch a few more riders, some of which had passed me back at the bottom of the climb. I saw a rider by the side of the road being assisted by several SAG team members. It looked as if he’d fallen, but I couldn’t see anything that could have caused it. Maybe he had just fallen over from the exhaustion.

 

On the final straight I geared up and sprinted the last 100 meters. I was that close. As I summited I looked around desperately for the time keeper. “Hello Grim Reaper, but pardon me a moment while I try and get my time recorded”! I finally saw the nice lady with the clipboard and tried to get my name straight. I can’t remember exactly what she repeated back to me, but it wasn’t my name, something like Walter Claypoole, so I repeated it, “Last name Wallace, first name Clark”. As she finally found it and peered at her watch she called out 12:40. 12:40? That’s 6:01, 120 seconds from an under 6 hours finish, the humanity of it all!

Regardless I had made it. As I gazed around the place looked like a field hospital in a war zone.  Riders were splayed about on blankets everywhere; laying down, stretching or just plain resting. I was glad to see I wasn’t the only one who had suffered.  I immediately hit the food table and grabbed handfuls of chips and cookies. I wanted to push as much salt into my body as possible. I found some open real estate on a blanket and plopped down. I slipped off my shoes and massaged my aching feet.  Just taking in the scene was an experience; riders summiting every few minutes to the cheers of the SAG crew, the Grim Reaper greeting the latest arrivals, and cyclists lounging about just chatting and recovering.  I could have easily just hung out for an hour or two, but since I had a fairly long drive ahead of me after the ride I thought it best to get going.

 

I pulled on my arm warmers, but decided to leave the vest off since it was really quite warm.  The ride down was as advertised. Essentially 40 miles of clean downhill with only a few climbs to interrupt an otherwise pleasant descent. 

 

There was an endless stream of riders still climbing and I felt for them, but I have to admit I smiled a few times as I sped past knowing the worst was behind me.  There were quite a few and I only passed the last of them just before Angeles Oaks.  The rest stop had packed up long ago as I sailed through the village and started what was the best part of the return route. The gentle curves and 6% grade made cruising at 40 mph effortless. I was able to hold a tuck the whole way down to Damnation Alley. There was very little car traffic which helped make this section enjoyable.

 

I made the sweeping right onto Damnation Alley and was immediately confronted with a fairly substantial headwind. Even so I was able to run at a pace that required little or no pedaling.  The road on this stretch had ample shoulder and the surface was perfect. When I hit the Ranger Station I stopped to take a leak and stretch my legs. I was amazed at how fast the last 30 miles had passed. Especially when compared to the 3 hours it had taken to climb it!

 

At this point it was basically an almost straight run into town. Along this entire stretch I sort of chased a guy ahead of me just to keep my pace up. I never got within 50 meters of him, but it helped pass the time. The road transitioned from Mill Creek, to Mentone to E. Lugonia without making a turn. There were about 5 or so lights on an otherwise uninterrupted glide back to Sylvan Park. I finally reached University and made the left turn. Within a mile or so I pulled up to the start just a tad shy of 7 hours 30 minutes on the bike. Two very nice ladies greeted me and were full of congratulations and kind words. I signed in for the last time and then rolled back to the car to change.

 

Somewhat refreshed I wandered back to the park which was pretty much deserted. In retrospect this made sense. The majority of the riders had still been on the climb as I came down and a lot of the finishers were hanging out at the top. I pretty much had the burrito buffet to myself. I served up two large portions and found a place to sit and relax.  I was pretty tired so once I’d had my fill I figured I’d better get on the road or I’d be taking a nap.

 

In summary this was definitely the best all around ride I’ve done to date. The support was unparalleled, the riders were great, the weather was perfect and the route was fantastic.  I was very pleased with my time to the summit and look forward to improving it next year.