Davis Bike Club Antelope Lake 600K 2014 Brevet Report

The R60 Crew (l to r) Jose Plascencas, Patrick Herlihy, Andreas Schultz, Sarah Schroer, Paul McKenzie, Max Polleto. Elapsed time for the 600K ride was 23 hours 07 minutes. Immediately after the photo was taken, most of us collapsed on the ground.

On June 14, 2014 Sarah Schroer and I rode the Davis Bike Club Antelope Lake 600K Brevet on the tandem. The pressure was on. We'd already completed a "Civilized 600K" The Santa Cruz Surf City 600K recently, a ride in which we made all attempts to be comfortable, taking long stops to refresh, a sit down dinner and breakfast, a shower and kit change, and a comfortable, if truncated, night of sleep. Not this time. We were not going for comfort. We were going for speed. Sarah needed a sub 24 hour performance to achieve the "R60" status, an award to riders who complete a full brevet series, 200K, 300K, 400K and 600K in just 60% of the allowed time. As it turns out, R60 in a 200K or 300K isn't terribly difficult, but it gets exponentially more challenging as the rider goes to 400K and then 600K. I wasn't nervous about the Santa Cruz 600K. I knew it would be hard, but fun. But this one? Not so much. Fear and trepidation were upon me. We had a goal, a difficult one, and it was by no means a sure thing. What if we failed? What if we did not make our goal? Well, we had our rough patches, but succeeded, and Sarah and I rode strong for twenty three hours and seven minutes, completing the ride well within our goal, and achieving R60 status for Sarah, the first woman in the U.S. to achieve that goal. We succeeded with hard work, a never say die attitude when things became excruciatingly difficult, ample pre event planning, a finely tuned strategy, and frankly, a little help from our friends... our fellow riders and the volunteers. Here's how it all happened...

Sarah and I exchange the usual stream of emails prior to the event, getting everything planned. Lighting, bike prep, bags, what are you going bring for clothes? What about food? How many calories? What will be available on the course? Making time estimates and goals. Spreadsheets. Adjusting them to compensate for night riding, temperature, terrain, etc. etc.

With the night start (8 PM Friday night), how do we deal with sleep? Sarah and I decide to make it to Davis pre-rush hour on Friday, then try to nap in a park before catching dinner and rolling over to the start. This plan works reasonably well. We arrive in Davis around 3 PM, nap for two hours, head out for dinner, then get the bike and gear ready, finally heading over to the start to get ready to roll.

Sarah and I try to catch a nap in Davis for a couple of hours before we head to dinner and the 8 PM start. Parents, cover the eyes of your kids, as this photo is "R" rated, with Sarah sporting a bit of skin! Unfortunately, we elected to lay down next to the bathrooms, so the occasional loud flush of commercial toilets interrupted our sleepy bliss. The ultimate irony of this photo is that I happen to be wearing my Giant Bicycles "Pushing the Boundaries" T-Shirt. I am later to truly understand what this slogan means.

After a nap and some dinner, we sorta look more or less ready to ride 600K! Photo by a fellow rider we flagged down.

Here I think I am trying to impress the lovely Denise Primrose with how many gadgets I have in my cockpit. We used three separate Niterider light systems. One MiNewt on low all the time, with a big ass 4x battery, a Niterider Pro 750 to be used on bright only for fast downhills, our "High Beam", and a Lumina 700 as a backup. Photo: Sarah Schroer

With R60 Ace Patrick Herlihy (foreground left). Patrick completed the Santa Rosa 600K just a week prior... in 100 degree heat... on a single speed. And yet... here he is. Photo: Sarah Schroer

Just prior to roll out. Riders start to realize what they are in for, and look pensive, while Sarah flashes one of the best smiles in the business.

Dan Shadoan gives final instructions, with a good dose of needed humor. A 600K isn't always funny, so a little humor and light heartedness goes a long way.

Dan Shadoan gives instructions, with a good amount of humor, and we are on our way. I've known Dan since the early 90's, and we've had many a battle on long rides in the past. It is so nice to connect with him again.

With RBA Dan Shadoan at the start. We've battled a few times on long rides in the 90's, with Dan coming out on top more often than not. Dan had pacing down back then, when most of us didn't even understand the concept. Photo: Sarah Schroer

It's odd starting a ride at dusk, but it makes the rather drab, flat, farm land, somewhat appealing. The pace is fast. We average about 22 mph for the first 50 miles to the first control in Sutter. There we sign in and refuel. The group is still quite large, as many riders are able to sit on the pace line, while a half dozen or so of the strongest riders do turns at the front. Sarah and I chip in with some strong pulls, but there is enough talent in the field that we are not expected to do all the work. The bugs are out in force, and it's difficult to breath without getting a mouthful of bugs, especially when on the front.

Rolling out of the start at dusk. Just 597K to go!

The sun has set and we prepare for night mode. There are a number of big, strong, Lads in the bunch, so the tandem isn't forced to do all the work.

Sutter Control at mile 50. A rather drab spot, but an incredibly enthusiastic crew that understood we were in a hurry and did everything in their power to help us through. The bunch is still quite large at this point, so getting all the cards signed and everyone fed in a hurry was a monumental task. Amazing job, guys! THANK YOU!

Sarah handles the brevet card signing at each stop, and reminds me to sign in. I focus on keeping the bike running, lights working, and trying to keep myself alert and ready to keep us safe and fast. Great team work.

After Sutter, the pace slows a bit. There is an incident in the peloton, a front wheel into someone's rear quick release, with a result of some broken spokes. Sarah and I avoid the mishap, but the field is broken up. Some stop to help, others roll on. Sarah and I roll on but soft pedal to allow others to catch once things get sorted out.

Next stop is Oroville, a hotel room at the Budget Inn, an appropriately named run down establishment, staffed by and extremely enthusiastic and friendly volunteer. The herd has thinned a bit, so things are a little less hectic. We refuel and get on our way. So far the 85 miles of the ride ride have been dominated by the biggest, strongest brevet riders, and, of course, the Tandem. Most of the other riders have been shelled. I can't help but notice that two very strong female solo riders are still with the group, Cheryl Becker and Lisa Susan McPhate. Pretty incredible, since the pace in the dark has been nearly 22 mph!

There are over 60 riders participating, and by now we are down to the fastest 25 or so. We begin the climb up to Jarbo Gap Summit, a long ascent, that rises to over 2200' from the Central Valley.

Unbeknownst to us, behind us, perhaps an hour later, sometime in the 2-3 AM time frame, there is an incredible drunken, meth induced, redneck incident involving rider Chuck Shroyer. I'll just provide a photo of Chuck at the start, and let him tell his story in his own words...

Chatting with "Don't Fuck with Chuck" Schroyer at the Start. Photo: Sarah Schroer

Well this time I had it all planned out I love this route and was looking forward to a great ride. Great weather and a full moon, I should have planned on it being Friday the 13th.

It started out great a little fast 22mph pace but I was able to hang in there for 21 miles, at this point I dropped back and rode with a little slower pace line. We keep it up to Orville the 90 mile mark. After a short break I joined the first group leaving and found they had a pace that fit mine quite well.

The first big climb we stuck together most the way to the top a 3000ft climb. Nearing the top I was falling back some but felt good. As I passed the lookout, which was on the other side of the street I could hear a very loud person screaming at me and saying he hated cyclist and this was his road. I ignored and keep riding. I know that there was two girls coming up behind me, I then heard the loud person state that he had a 22 pistol and was going to shoot the next rider.

As the two girls come by one was on the phone to 911 telling them what was happening. Just then a car come flying by me and up the road and pulled up next to the front group of riders I assumed it was the loud individual. The car then pulled out and did a u turn back towards me and the did another u turn and waited for me.

As I road by there was a man and woman in the car screaming at me stating that one of the girl riders pulled a gun on him and his wife and he was going to kill somebody. I politely told him and his wife to F**k themselves and started to ride off. He then stated that if I rode on he would run me over.

Rather than confront his car from behind I told him to get out, he did and came over and struck me in the head. He was about 26 years old and 5ft 9in, I decided that it did not need to go any farther so I took him down hard. I held him on the ground and told him stop, he did not stop but continued to try to hit me, at which time I slammed his head into the street until he decided to give up. This is where it gets dicey , his wife jumps behind the wheel of the car and spins it around to run me over, only I am on top and dive out of the way and she runs over her husband. She then backs up and he jumps up and attacks me again like nothing happened. When he came after me I slammed him back down on the street and decide to put him out by closing off both of his carotid arteries, as he is passing out his wife again tries to run me over only once again running over her husband this time he was totally rolled up under the car so far I could not see him. I could hear him moaning and crying for help. She backed off of him dragging him into the street.

He then popped up and came at me again what ever he was on made him impervious to pain, I then pinned him to the side of his car holding his carotid arteries and again he started to pass out. His wife then came out the window trying to hit me, I dropped him and grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out the window. As he recovered he once again came at me and I kick him in the groin, at which time he just stopped and asked me to apologize for kicking him their and of course I did. He was running out of gas and so was I, I did not wish to cause any permanent damage but I but did what was needed to stop him.

It was at this time that his wife drove up the embankment and drove over my bike and then drove off leaving him their.

At this time another rider came up and I asked him to call 911 the kid then directed all his attention to him and I just set there until the police came.

When the ambulance came he refused treatment and denied ever getting run over and that I had caused all the damage to him.

I did not press assault charges against him he was already in a world of hurt. He was arrested for DUI and she was arrested also for DUI and assault with a deadly weapon.

I got a bump on my head from where he hit my helmet and crushed it into my head.

I look back and think of what might of happened, if he had not come across me but went ahead and run over the other riders, he is in jail for only a DUI and he was the only one hurt except for my bike.

Cycling it is not a sport it is an adventure!!

As we begin to climb to Jarbo Gap, many riders succumb to the pace, and the group whittles down to less than 10. Sarah and I are climbing well, and are able to stay with the front group without trouble. We descend, then begin the climb up the Feather River Canyon. It's like 1:00 AM now, and we are one day past a full moon. The moon light dances on the canyon, creating a surreal effect, and the freight trains grind and squeak their way up the canyon, creating an incredibly unique form of entertainment for us brevet riders. I'm in heaven at this time. The views, sounds, lights, tunnels, bridges, moon light, and the company of fellow riders creates an inspirational experience I will not soon forget.

We arrive at Tobin, mile 130, in the wee hours of the morning. The waiting crew is happy to see us, and takes really good care of us. So far, the staff at each stop has been incredible.

We arrive in Tobin and the staff is ready for us. Friendly faces, good food, and a funky cabin. We are a bit slow in and out of there, but we get it done and carry on up the canyon toward Indian Valley. We've picked up some warm clothing, long gloves, toe booties, wind breaker, and skull cap. We pass through three tunnels, and we hoot and howl a bit to take advantage of the echoes and eery feeling of the moonlit landscape. While we enjoy the beauty of the night, we are also fighting off the urge to sleep. I'm yawning continuously. Sarah is also tired. We hope the dawn will refresh us, and help us stay awake.

As we make it to Indian Valley, just before sunrise, the temperature plummets. It's 39 degrees, and for me, it isn't picture taking weather. Icy fingers, long gloves, and extra layers mean steering the tandem and taking pictures is complicated, though Sarah and I did capture a photo or two in the Indian and Genesee Valleys. The sunrise does push away our desire to sleep — we are relieved that the daylight has refreshed us. A sleep break isn't in our plan, so fingers are crossed we stay awake and make it through.

We gain the cool Indian Valley at dawn. It's 39 degrees. Photo: Sarah Schroer

At Genessee Store, (l to r) Max Polleto, Dan Shadoan, Sarah Schroer

The incredible food spread at Genesee Store. We'll pass through twice to take advantage of this great opportunity to eat well

The shitter at Genesee Store. It's a nice shitter. I don't take photos of funky shiiters. For example, you won't see a photo of the duct taped toilet seat we found at the Control hotel in Oroville...

On to Genesee we go. There we find Dan Shadoan and an incredible food spread. Rice with a sweet fruit sauce and also fixin's for Tacos. Incredible! Dan continues to ask if someone will carry a road cone up to the turnaround (an information Control) so he doesn't have to drive up there. I half think he is kidding, but then realize he is sort of serious. We have no way to carry this cone so Dan drives up ahead of us to drop the cone, and we begin the long climb up to Antelope Lake. I feel guilty. I think we could have carried the cone and still made R60 with ease. By now we have our final lead group. Sarah and me, Max Polletto, Patrick Herlihy, Andreas Shultz, and José Plascencas. We form an unspoken bond, and we will ride with this group to the finish. It's a good group. A really good group.

Leaving Genesee. All is good when that smile is goin' down.

We descend fast back from Antelope Lake, and once again enjoy the food at the Genesse Store. We see riders on the outbound. I pick up a bottle I'd left behind, then make a quick visit to the rest room.

Indian Valley on the return, a bit warmer.

This rider and I exchanged snapping photos on the fly as we head down the valley. I hope to get his! We're inbound, they're outbound.

Well, Jenny Oh found the matching photo to the one above. As I am taking this photo of Greg Kline, he is taking one of our lead group. Paul and Sarah followed by Andreas Schultz, Max Polleto, Patrick Herlihy, and José Plascencas. Photo: Greg Kline

Down the hill we go, back through Taylorsville, and down the Feather River Canyon. I coin the acronym STC, for Super Tandem Country, a long, twisty, gradual descent, on which a tandem can really fly. We have everyone in tow as we arrive once again in Tobin. The staff is happy to see us. Sarah and I do a quick sponge bath and kit change, while the others kindly wait a bit for us. I use copious amounts of chamois cream as the backside is beginning to suffer a bit, and I know it won't get any better.

STC time, people. (Super Tandem Country) Get on the wheel, fasten your seat belts, and enjoy the ride. This is your Captain speaking. Down the Feather River Canyon we go, faster than a freight train. Double bridge behind.

The famous Feather River Canyon Double Bridge. The railroad passes over the roadway. Rail enthusiasts love to visit the Feather River Canyon, and this is one of the reasons.

Your caption here... In the background, R60 Boyz refuel, Patrick, Max, and Andreas. With the incredibly enthusiastic Jason Pearce (foreground right).

After Tobin we have a long climb up and over the Jarbo Gap again. Sarah and I are stomping on the pedals fairly well considering the fatigue, and we get over this thing in good time. I'm really happy with this climb, but my energy is about to die. We scream down the last descent after a pee stop at the top and start the flats and rollers back to Oroville. It's here where the fatigue starts to show and things begin to go sour. It's getting hot and windy. We've been riding now for something like 15 hours straight. I start to feel like I just don't have any more to give. And yet, we are on great time, we have a great group, and we are ahead of schedule to meet our sub 24 hour goal. Only one thing to do... suck it up and keep pedaling, fool.

Crossing the bridge and beginning the big climb to Jarbo Gap on the return. Photo: Sarah Schroer

Andreas didn't read my Tandem 101 blog, and digs in hard on the rollers, dropping the tandem. Sarah and I fight back, but it will take its toll. I know this is how Andreas rides, he likes to maintain his speed on the uphill side of rollers. He's excused.

The miles start clicking by way too slow. We make it to Oroville. Max looks at the clock and it something like 9 minutes before the hour or half hour and he says, "Let's try to limit this stop to 9 minutes." We agree, get all our brevet cards signed, get something to eat and drink. It's hot, and my feet are bothering me. I whip off my shoes, and put my feet on the blasting air conditioner for just a minute or two to get some relief, while I stuff some food in, and down some liquid. Then we are back on the road. Max announces, "Great job everyone, we got through in 7 minutes. 85 miles to go. I'm toast. Don't know if I can make it.

The 35 mile slog to Sutter, with 50 miles to go is painful. Each mile takes and eternity. The farm land is flat and boring. My butt is sore. Sarah and I stand frequently to try to get some relief. We finally make it to Sutter. Sarah goes in the store and I try to chill. I'm having doubts now. Not sure I can keep the bike upright, much less pedal strong enough to make it home. But others are depending on me. I try to use that as motivation. It's partially effective.

In Sutter I'm hurting. I truly have doubts I can make it. If there is any doubt about my ability to keep the bike upright, we'll have to stop. The realization that this could happen with just 50 miles to go is devastating. I persevere...

The beauty of the Sutter Buttes takes my mind off of the pain momentarily

Then the stretch on Reclamation Rd., something like 15 miles of flat. I can't get my arms around this thing. It takes forever. With each pedal stroke, I think it less likely I will make it to the finish. There is nothing left, and yet the requirement to stay with this group is 18 mph into a stiff headwind. It's absolute torture as I try to maintain the power required. I'm thankful that Sarah, though she is also hurting, is able to contribute more than her share.

We're all hurting. I notice Max is riding with one knee out, perhaps to relieve some knee pain, hot foot, cramps, butt soreness, or other ailment. I never asked. Max is a big man, probably 6'6", with broad shoulders. Max announced before the ride that he intended to put his nose in the wind and pull. That he did, and he cuts a nice big hole into the wind. Andreas seemed to be the strong man at this point in the ride, also doing his share of the work. But he'd ride ahead, dropping everyone, then wait, over and over.

As we approach Woodland, with about 25 miles to go, everyone is out of water. Max notes that if we carry on without stopping, and risk the dehydration, we'll bust 23 hours. Andreas wants to stop. I vote we don't. Max doesn't want to stop. Sarah later apologizes for being grumpy at this stage, but I still don't know what her preference is, as I am completely dazed. In the end, we realize it's probably best to stop and let the sub 23 goal slip away. We are a cohesive team now. We need to stay together and finish together. We stop at a gas station and refuel. Others are ready to go, but I am struggling. Sarah brings me a popsicle. I munch it down, but am still feeling nausea. Sarah suggests I go to the bathroom and wet down my sun sleeves and head. I follow instructions. I head for the bathroom and it's occupied. I wait, and finally get in. I dowse myself and feel just barely good enough to put my leg back over the bike. The others kindly wait for me, which I greatly appreciate. While we are all hurting, I feel I am the worst of the bunch. I'm spent, I've left it all out there, and perhaps budgeted my energy just a bit wrong.

We roll the last miles back to Davis. These are the slowest passing miles I can ever remember on the bike. Each mile seems like an eternity. It seems like punishment, a bad nightmare in which I can never finish the last miles of a ride. Finally, with just about 3 miles to go, I realize I am going to make it. Sarah will have her R60, and I will be able to get off this bike! We arrive at 19:07, (7:07 P.M.), sign in, and fortunately, I have the presence of mind to capture a group photo of this remarkable group of riders, before we all collapse on the ground. Another epic ride completed, with superb camaraderie all the way. A big thank you to Sarah Schroer, Max Polletto, Patrick Herlihy, Andreas Schultz, and José Plascencas. You are all incredible riders, and wonderful companions on this epic adventure.

Passed out at the finish, Max Polleto, Patrick Herlihy (with beer), Andreas Schultz.

I'm passed out in the weeds at the finish. Photo: Patrick Herlihy

I can't say enough about the wonderful support we received from Dan Shadoan's Davis Bike Club crew. These folks are all riders themselves, and they know what we need. A huge thank you to all of them. Without this staff, our accomplishment would not have been possible.

Further reading: For a great view from the middle of the pack, read Jenny Oh's Ride Report.

Our Strava File:

Drafting a Tandem: How to be Tow'd and How to Tow a Tandem 101

Racing on the tandem with Paul Chuck (Photo Courtesy Bill Bushnell)

We all know the game. You're on a flat-ish ride. A tandem rolls by. What do you do? You get on the wheel, of course. And you sit there. It's a free ride. But then a steep hill is encountered. You thank the tandem... or not... and carry on up the hill, dropping the tandem.

On the down side, the tandem comes screaming by again, having to hit the brakes, and weave through the slower single bike riders who are now taking up the whole road, inattentive to the fact that the tandem is coming by with a big head of steam. You get on the wheel again, and you sit. Repeat, again, and again. It's a sweet ride in the draft. Heck, you hardly have to pedal and you're cruising along at 22 mph!

After about 100 miles of this, the tandem team begins to fade, after having to push the wind all day. But you're fresh, so you bolt off the front and leave the tandem behind. As you pass, you thank them... or not...

There are ways that single bikes can work with a tandem to make everyone faster, but it takes a great deal of skill, and some understanding of tandem dynamics, and how a tandem responds to terrain changes differently than single bikes.

Sarah Schroer and I have an event coming up, a 600K (380 mile) ride that we are going to try to complete in 24 hours on the tandem. Several single bikes are going to participate, and have the same goal. These riders can sit on the tandem until we're exhausted, then forge ahead alone. Or... they can learn to work WITH the tandem, in a team effort to make everyone  faster — a task that has been proven to be difficult for most single bike riders.

The tandem has difficulty making abrupt changes in speed. The typical rider who gets excited when it is his/her turn to do a pull and puts in a massive acceleration will always create a gap and drop the tandem. The first thing to understand is how a tandem deals with terrain changes in ways that are different from how a single bike behaves. Below are 4 scenarios, and how a single bike should react while towing a tandem:

1. Steep Uphill: This is where the tandem is most disadvantaged. If you are towing a tandem, keep a modest pace. If the tandem rolls up alongside, then increase slightly. But keep it very steady.

2. Modest Uphill or "False Flat:" A tandem will do better on this terrain than a steeper hill. The rider towing the tandem can do a slightly higher effort, but still should keep it modest. Be very aware of slight changes in pitch. If it steepens, don't dig in too hard. If it slackens, keep the speed up.

3. Flat Terrain: The towing rider can put in a pretty strong effort, and the tandem should stay hitched. Watch out for slight variations in grade. If the road tilts up slightly, ease off just a bit, don't overpower the roller. Conversely, if the road tilts down a bit, power up gradually.

4. Slight Downhill: On this terrain, you pretty much are not going to drop a tandem. Pedal hard and fast, and the tandem should be able to stay on without issue.

5. Steep Downhill: Get the Fuck out of the way. It's as simple as that. There is nothing more annoying than single bike riders kinda dropping the tandem on an uphill, then taking the whole road on the subsequent downhill, such that the tandem has to brake and kill momentum. Better to just stay behind the tandem at the crest, and get on the wheel, or if on the downhill, single file up and stay to the right so the tandem can get through safely. If you are on a downhill, and the tandem is behind, be aware that it's likely coming, and probably coming fast. Dodgy moves by single bikes into the lane can be dangerous in this scenario.

Pretty simple. I've been on many double centuries where my tandem has towed riders all day. Eventually Captain and Stoker fatigue. Sometimes we run most riders off our wheel, and other times we can barely pedal at the end while our tail of wheel suckers are fresh. Sometimes they then ask if they can help. They can, but it takes some skill and understanding. You must be smooth. Avoid sudden increases (or decreases) in speed. Watch the tandem, and understand how it reacts to terrain differently than a single bike. By doing that, you'll be able to help make everyone faster. Don't wait until the end of the ride to ask if you can help. If you're strong, help early on, spell the tandem for just a minute here and there, it makes a difference over the course of a long day.

And one more thing. If you sit on a tandem wheel all day, don't sprint the last mile or two of a double century, and say you "beat" the tandem after Captain and Stoker have been kind enough to tow you around all day. (This happened at the 2013 Davis Double). That's really poor etiquette. And if you're following a tandem, and you flat, don't expect the tandem to stop and wait. You are likely receiving great benefit from the tandem's draft, but the tandem is likely receiving little or no benefit from the single bikes.

Class is over. Next time you hook up with a tandem, greet the riders, maybe ask if the tandem team minds that you draft, enjoy the tow, and if you can, feel free to at least offer to help. Some Captains will decline the offer. Others, like me, will graciously accept. Everyone can then go faster with less effort, which is the whole point, right?

Santa Cruz "Surf City" 2014 600K Brevet Ride Report, Santa Cruz Randonneurs

Long shadows, Long bike, Long ride. Photo: Sarah Schroer

On May 24, 2014, I participated in the Santa Cruz Randonneurs 600K Brevet, along with Sarah Schroer, on the tandem. We covered over 600 Kilometers on this ride, our total distance was 378 miles, for the metrically challenged. Our goal was to use our combined power to keep a good average speed on the bike, but then take adequate time to rest and refuel, such that the ride was less painful, and more "Civilized." Although we thought we could probably complete the ride in 24-26 hours, we set a more modest goal of 30-32 hours. We ended up completing the course in 30.5 hours, with a riding time of 21.5 hours. The route starts at the Lighthouse in Santa Cruz, heads North to Half Moon Bay via a circuitous route, then East on Hwy 84 to Skylonda, before returning to Santa Cruz at mile 139. After a re-supply at the car, the route continues South, beyond King City to San Ardo, before returning back to the finish in Santa Cruz. We were at least partially successful in making the ride less painful, but it certainly was a humbling experience. Here's how it went down:

The Start at the Lighthouse in Santa Cruz, 5:00 AM Sharp

Sarah and I arrive, and park near the finish at about 4:15 A.M., before riding the bike over to the Lighthouse for the official start. By placing the car near the finish, we'll be able to stop as we pass through for a re-supply. It's an odd scene at the Lighthouse. It's still dark, and all the riders are standing around in their reflective gear. We sign in, get our Brevet cards. then Bill Bryant, SCR RBA (Santa Cruz Randonneurs, Regional Brevet Administrator), gives final instructions and sends us off at 5 AM sharp. There are about 40 ambitious riders.

Picking up the Brevet card and chatting with the volunteer at the start. Note the reflective vest and ankle bands. Paul goes full Rando! Photo: Sarah Schroer

Bill Bryant, SCR RBA, gives excellent instructions just prior to lift off.

Sarah and I roll out mid pack, and as is my usual M.O. on the tandem, I refrain from going to the front right away. Good to size up the field and see what the pace is going to be if we don't influence it. The pack is moving along nicely, but once we get out on the open road on Hwy 1, Sarah and I feel the need for speed, so we go to the front, and set an easy tempo pace.

It isn't long before the entire field is shelled off our wheel, save for 3 riders. Over the rollers on Hwy 1, the tandem really flies on the downhills, so if riders are not attentive, and let a small gap form, it's like putting out a parachute, especially in a head wind situation, and there's no getting back. Our climbing pace is modest... we have a long way to go. As expected, we are pushing a 10 mph headwind all the way up the coast.

All smiles, rolling North on Hwy 1, noses in the wind, at 20 mph, on the big bike, the right tool for the job.

The weather is foggy, socked in, and there is just enough moisture in the air to fog the glasses and give us that lovely, wet, clammy feeling. We're hoping for some clearing... but it's otherwise good riding weather.

On our wheel are Peter Morrissey, Carlton Van Leuven, and one other. Carlton is a big, strong lad, riding with aero bars and a flat back. Carlton is an RBA in Phoenix, AZ, with a great deal of experience in long Brevet rides. With his position and power, he can plow through the headwind quite effectively. Carlton is perfectly willing to take some pulls at the front, but then quickly acknowledges how difficult it is in the wind as he takes a turn and gives up the tandem's draft for just a short spell! He asks if we want the help, and we tell him that we do appreciate any contribution, though Sarah wisely tells him to be sure to get the hell out of the way on the downhills, although not with that exact choice of words.

One rider succumbs to the pace, so we're rolling with just Peter and Carlton in tow. We take Gazos Creek and Cloverdale Rd en route to the first Control at Pescadero (mile 33.9). At a Control, we are required to buy something at the store to get a time stamped receipt. We have a somewhat leisurely stop here, taking longer than we should. Peter then rolls out solo, followed by the tandem. Carlton and a few others that arrive as we are leaving, are left behind. We figure they'll catch on the upcoming climbs, but are surprised when they don't.

Peter Morrissey, a highly accomplished and strong brevet rider, climbs on Old Stage Road near Pescadero, CA.

Nice vista on Old Stage Road.

Sarah and I catch Peter, and carry on via Old Stage Rd, then back to Hwy 1 before doing the Purissima/Higgins loop. There is a sign Control at Purissima Creek. Here, we need to get a 3 digit code off of a sign. Fortunately, Peter remembers to get the code as Sarah and I miss it. The code is P3C. In an effort to remember the code, to be written down later on the brevet card, Peter comes up with the phrase, "Peter has 3 Complaints."

We make it to the Half Moon Bay Control (mile 61.1) a bit before 9 AM, and are just a few ticks behind our projected time. We then turn around, and head down the coast to Hwy 84, where we climb all the way up to Skylonda (mile 90.1). Peter had complained about a couple of things earlier, and I remind him that he's burned through two of his complaints, so he'd better use the third, and last one, wisely. Then, on Hwy 84, he says something like, "Boy, this climb sure is long." We're like, "Peter, how could you burn your final complaint so early in the ride, with such a trivial matter?" To his credit, he complained no more, despite the fact that there would be much more to complain about down the road!

We gain the summit and bomb back down Hwy 84. We see Carlton on his way up, followed by a fellow that Sarah refers to as, "an older gentleman." I point out he's probably my age, and wonder if Sarah refers to me as "an older gentleman" in conversations where I'm not present. I conclude she probably does, but substitutes something else for "gentleman." 


Hwy 84 is a perfect tandem descent. Peter knows he will likely get dropped and kindly tells us to forge ahead if that happens. He does drop off, and we work our way back to Santa Cruz solo, with a glorious tailwind down the coast after revisiting Cloverdale Rd. and Gazos Creek in the reverse direction. We know Peter will be fine in the tailwind, as he'll be just about as fast as the tandem. We've got 139 miles done now, and a good chunk of the climbing is out of the way. We finally feel like we've put a dent in this project.

Poppies along Cloverdale Rd. Photo: Sarah Schroer

Heading South on Hwy 1, a fast run with a tail wind. Photo: Sarah Schroer

We have a long stop at the car, probably too long. We attach a rear bag with extra gear, enjoy a nice lunch with cold drink from the cooler, pull on a fresh kit, and add a new layer of sun screen. The fog is gone, the sun is out, and things are looking good... except for one thing.

A nice, long break for lunch and a wardrobe change at mile 139.

On the Northern leg, my stomach began acting up rather seriously. Cramping, bloating, pain and general discomfort. I'm concerned that things could go south with my stomach as we head South to King City. It's pretty bad, but I try to suck it up and keep going, not wanting to alarm Sarah.

As we are about to leave, Peter rolls up after his brief stop, and we re-group. We head South through town, hitting every red light possible. After a bit, my condition worsens. I ask Sarah how far to the next Control in Marina, and it's still something like 30 miles away. Hmmm, I'm not going to make it. Not to go into too much graphic detail about my stomach problem, but suffice to say, I'm wasting probably an extra 5-10 Watts of precious muscle power just keeping the back door shut tightly.

I can't stand it any longer so we stop at a gas station and I make full use of the rest room facilities in Soquel. We carry on to Marina, but the problem isn't going away. At this point I fear if it gets any worse, our day could be over. Again, I keep it to myself and just keep going, taking care of myself as best I can. In Marina, it's another visit to the rest room. Uggghh. Probably some sort of food poisoning, and not a stomach flu bug fortunately. The problem continues to plague me — I'm really not sure I can continue...

Cruising the farm land on Molera Rd. Peter Morrissey in front.

After Marina, we enjoy good tailwinds and good company from Peter. He again tells us to continue without him should we drop him, and again we really appreciate Peter's "permission" to keep going should he fall off. He does, but we wait, as it's just a short distance he's back and it's still 50 miles to King City. In the end, we make it all the way to King City, mile 235, with Peter. Sarah and I plan to take a long break in King City, have a civilized sit down dinner, and pick up some supplies, before tackling the southernmost leg to the booming oil town of San Ardo, pop. 500. We're about 45 minutes behind our projected time, we arrive in King City at 7:45 P.M., but we are not at all worried about it. We've done well under the circumstances. Peter continues on, and plans to ride straight through. We wish him luck, and Sarah and I cannot imagine continuing at that point without a stop to refresh and refuel.

Rolling along Metz Rd. near King City, in the early evening light.

All smiles as we roll into King City. Time to get off the bike and enjoy a nice sit down dinner.

After dinner, we drop by the Safeway for supplies. I guard the bike while Sarah shops. The Co-Motion Robusta ran absolutely flawlessly for the entire trip. No issues whatsoever, fast and smooth! Note the big seat bag, small custom adapted frame pack, lights, and bento box for auxiliary battery to keep the Garmins topped up. This would be a stealthy, super light set-up for credit card touring.

We spend an hour in King City with sit down dinner at the Taqueria, and the re-supply, then enjoy a stiff tailwind to San Ardo. It's dark now, with no moon. Riding South, a bunny or some such critter runs across just in front of our front wheel. Later an Owl swoops by just 15' or so over our heads. We're pretty certain we are not hallucinating, that usually happens after the 300 mile mark, so it couldn't happen at mile 250... or could it? It's odd traveling through this barren, remote landscape in the dark, with this level of fatigue.

We see Peter on the return leg, and realize we are not that far behind him. He's certainly slowed a bit as he goes into night mode, and plugs away at a comfort pace. We arrive in San Ardo, a tiny oil/cattle town. Of course nothing is open. It's 9:50 PM. Most riders will arrive at San Ardo during the 9:30 PM to about 5:30 A.M. window. To prove we've been there, the Control is actually to mail a supplied Post Card at the mailbox outside of the San Ardo Post Office. Doing this in the deserted, dark town, at night, is an absolutely surreal experience. I can't even describe it. But I did get some photos...

Our Brevet Card for the event. Note the Post Card that we are to fill out, and Send from the San Ardo Post Office.

Sarah mails the Post Card in San Ardo at 9:50 P.M. The scene is absolutely surreal.

The question we have to answer on the Post Card is, How many farm animals on the San Ardo Post Office sign. If you look closely, you can see 3 cows on the sign, far upper left. The scene is so absurd it doesn't even seem real, and if not for these photos, I'd have trouble believing this actually happened.

One final shot of the San Ardo Post Office. I will never forget this scene, as long as I live.

On the return leg from San Ardo to King City, the North winds are still howling. We are plowing slowly into the 20 mph wind. This is, without a doubt, the most painful, difficult, and demoralizing part of the ride, and one of the hardest stretches of road I can remember. We're going slow, pounding into the wind, our backsides are sore, and it takes forever to get back to King City, but we finally make it. What a relief!

We take a very long break in King City, eat a little more, clean up, and sleep for 4 hours. We had hoped for a bit more sleep, but in order to stay on schedule, we cut our sleep time. There is no messin' with the winds in the Salinas Valley. We need to make the "light wind" window. At 4 AM, we rise, put on a fresh kit for the 100 mile return to Santa Cruz, the last leg of the trip. I wisely leave the bib straps of my shorts down, such that I can drop 'em quickly if needed. Problem isn't fully solved yet... but on the bright side, it isn't getting any worse.

We hit Denny's for a full sit down breakfast a few ticks before 5 AM, remember, this is a "Civilized" 600K, so a proper breakfast is indicated! The Manager sees us and invites us to wheel the big tandem into the restaurant, and park it by our table. How cool is that? We thank him profusely. We order up pancakes, eggs, bacon, and coffee and tea. Seated next to us is Yogy Namara, fellow brevet rider, looking a bit worse for the wear, as it appears he hasn't taken any significant break until now. We talk to Yogy and he's asking for advice on hooking up with other riders, and how to approach the final leg. We're all cheery and smiley, and poor Yogy just wants to pass out. He's clearly fatigued, and even slumps down in his booth for a bit to try to catch a 5 min cat nap while his food is being prepared!

We finish our meal, and Sarah donates her extra pancakes to the Feed Yogy Cause, we settle our tab, bid Yogy farewell, tip the manager kindly, and we're on our way. Feeling as refreshed as we can be after 275 miles and 4 hours of sleep, we are back on the course at about 5:35 A.M., hoping to make it all the way up the Salinas Valley before the howling winds start. They don't typically die until around midnight, and begin to blow strong again by mid day.

We have an excellent run up the valley, averaging over 18 mph into the light headwind. We take a slightly different route on the return, passing over a Green Bridge. This is another Information Control. What is the clearance on the bridge? We note it's 13'8", and Sarah records this on our Brevet Cards.

Final Control, in Marina, CA, at mile 336... about 40 to go!

As we approach Marina, we see two riders, a man and woman, who obviously passed us during our long break in King City. We pass them, greet them, then get our Control receipt in Marina, then carry on to Moss Landing, where we do a somewhat ugly stretch on Hwy 1. Here we pass a recumbent rider, Roland Bevan, who also clearly passed us on our King City break. Then back into the farm lands, mostly Strawberries in this region.

Cruising past empty, barren fields in Strawberry country.

There are many pesky hills between Moss Landing and Santa Cruz. Hills that would be easy with fresh legs, but are quite noticeable with tired ones. We stand at EVERY opportunity, as both Captain and Stoker Bums are quite sore.

We have one more nature break along the side of the road, and we make a wardrobe adjustment as the morning fog is burned off, and the sun is shining again. I also pull up my bib straps, a final symbolic gesture acknowledging that my stomach problem has passed, plus, I must look right for the finish line photo!

We hit many of the traffic lights through Soquel and Santa Cruz surprisingly well, and make good time. Finally, we roll into the finish at 11:38 AM. We are told we are the second finishers, and that Peter Morrissey rolled in at 10:51 AM. We've done the final 100 miles into the wind, including all stops and traffic delays, in six hours flat.

The finish is at the home of Bill Bryant, and he has a lovely spread in the back yard with snacks and refreshments. He's also installed a light string for those who arrive later after dark. We spend some time chatting with Bill, and down a couple of sodas and some chips. Interestingly, Bill pointed out that some experienced long brevet riders tout sleeping a maximum of 4 hours, since the body begins to shut down after that. So perhaps some beginner's luck that we ended up at that number. As we wait, another rider arrives, it's Roland Bevan, the recumbent rider we saw at Moss landing. Then it's off for some lunch, followed by a short nap under a tree before the drive back to the East Bay.

At the finsh, all smiles, Paul McKenzie and Sarah Schroer. Riding time 21:35, Elapsed time 30:38 Average speed 17.5 mph, over 378 miles.

I can't say enough to thank Sarah for her great performance and fabulous company on this ride. She carried us through all my bad patches, and frankly, through my good patches as well. Our overall time was 30 hours 38 minutes, well within our 30-32 hour goal. Our moving time was 21 hours 35 minutes, including about 20-30 minutes of off course meandering for food and supplies. We plan to ride the Davis 600K in June for time, so this is a good tune up for that event.

Peter Morrissey was also a wonderful companion, and this humorous comment thread from my Strava upload, from Matt McHugh, sums up Peter's credentials:

"That man has some serious experience in these events.  I'm pretty sure I recall him telling tales of seeing dozens of giant red beach balls coming at him in the 1200k PBP and he navigated right through them :) on his way to an impressive finish.  Is Paris in your plans?" Matt McHugh

"Matt, Peter was good company, and a very tough rider. We'd sometimes drop him on the descents, but he'd always tell us to go ahead and not wait for him. He had no expectations from us, giving us "permission" to ride our own ride, which was nice. No plans for Paris, but we may see flying beach balls at Davis 600K. We're going for overall time on that one, so stops will be minimized." Paul McKenzie

This was truly a humbling experience for Sarah and me, our first 600K, and we learned a lot. A 600K isn't something to be taken lightly, and we hope we can take what we learned and improve on the next outing.

A big thank you and shout out to Bill Bryant and Lois Springsteen for putting on this well organized event. And major kudos to everyone who completed this tough course!

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