Death Valley, Part III - The Ride (finally)

So many people have asked me over the past 4 weeks since the ride happened: "how was it?" "Was it awful?" Actually, no, it was quite an awesome experience. DESPITE crashing about 5 miles out from the last checkpoint, at about mile 87.



The ride started out gloriously, with temps, if I remember correctly, in the high 60's, low 70's). After an early morning breakfast at about 5 AM, all 300+ riders lined up at the starting gates at about 6:45 AM. In order to try and keep the riders from bunching up and blocking the highway we were riding on that day, they split us up into 3 groups and let us take off about 5 - 7 minutes apart. The excitement was in the air and adrenaline was pumping! The West Michigan team brought a lot of levity to the ride with our decorations sticking out of our helmets.


The 2nd group that I was in (medium speed I assumed) was given the go and we headed out onto Hwy 190. The ride was pretty clustered into the respective teams for about the first 5 - 10 miles. And since we were riding on the Eastern rim of the valley, the peaks of the mountaintops would keep the sun out of harm's way until about 10:30 or so.

Here's how the ride lays out: it's about 105 miles; about 52 miles out, 52 miles back, 7 checkpoints about 15 - 17 miles apart. And as had been mentioned in the newbie class the day before: "Get out to the 3rd checkpoint, Ashford Mill at the base of Jubilee Pass, as FAST as you can to minimize how much sun you're riding in." "And DON'T mess around at the checkpoints, get in, get refilled, use the port-a-pots, get out." I tried to keep this in mind as I was tooling along the first 15 miles, probably in the 18 - 22 mph range.


It's really hard to describe the scenery, and no picture or video can give justice to the odd scale of everything. Many times during the ride, you can see cyclists out on the highway far ahead of you crossing your line of vision, yet they seem to be mere specs compared to the 5000 foot tall rocks towering above them. And are they a mile away? 5 miles away? I have no idea. It's just something that Midwesterners are just not used to.

Prior to reaching the first checkpoint, Badwater, you can really feel yourself falling into a good rhythm. At times you're riding with large groups, other times passing large groups (on your left!), and other times in groups of just 3 or 4. It was really cool seeing the constant passing of SAG wagons, or Support Auxiliary Gear I believe they're called. Really made you feel like you were part of something grand. We rolled into the Badwater checkpoint and everyone was back together again (like the airport scenes on Amazing Race!). The lines for the port-a-johns were 20 people deep each!

Fluid intake was interestingly described to me this way, when dealing with the heat and dry air in Death Valley: "You're barely going to be able to take in enough fluids, so you should plan to pull into each checkpoint with two empty 24 oz water bottles. As in, if they aren't empty, you're not drinking enough. Be sure that one is water, and the other contains some kind of electrolyte replenishment. AND make sure the electrolyte, especially if it is gatorade, is in a clear bottle so you can tell it apart from your water." Why? Because you're going to want to pour about half your water over your head while you're riding.

I got in and out of Badwater lickety split, stopping just briefly to take some photos of the tourists venturing out onto the salt flats and the sign posted way atop a rock wall that says "Sea Level," giving me a slight indication of how far below sea level we had descended.




By about the 30 mile mark of the ride, it's really not that bad. Yes, there are some hills. But every uphill climb seemed to be complimented with a nice long downhill on the flipside. But I believe it was slightly before or after the Mormon Point (2nd) checkpoint that the sun popped out behind the mountains, right around 10:30 as people had said (warned). It was funny too because riders were actually screaming (jokingly) when the sun hit them for the first time that day. And oh wow, did it warm things up quite a bit.

By the 3rd checkpoint, Ashford Mill, it had gotten to be QUITE warm. But I was still feeling pretty good as I rolled out and headed for the climb up Jubilee Pass. What is Jubilee Pass you ask? It's a route up into the mountains heading over to the valley next door, peaking at about 1293 feet above sea level. But the climb is about 1400 feet, because you start off below sea level, and in the span of about 5 miles. Here's an elevation profile of the entire ride for reference; the peak in the middle being Jubilee Pass.


I believe it was somewhere around Noon at this point of the ride (had no idea). The small PB&J sandwich bites at the checkpoints, that tasted so good on the way out, were starting to get dry and hard as a rock (like toast). The water I was dumping over my head, even though was warm as bath water in my bottle, felt as cold as ice being poured over my helmet and trickling down onto the top of my head. Strangely, the same water that felt cold on my head felt warm when I squirted it down the back of my neck (???) It's sort of a puzzling thing knowing that I normally am sweating like crazy at this point in a ride back at home, with sweat pouring off my forehead and nose, yet I was as dry as sand (because it evaporates so fast). And the salt build up on my skin was becoming thick and gritty, and salt stains were appearing on my shorts and jersey.

The climb up Jubilee Pass was gruesome for a first-timer. I've ridden up some pretty wicked inclines, particularly on Vergennes East of Ada and on Egypt Valley Avenue, but this was like all of those combined into one never-ending onslaught. I ended up getting off my bike and walking 3 or 4 times, because I just couldn't get to a gear low enough to sustain forward momentum. Luckily there are plenty of other riders struggling to get up. What was even worse was watching the other riders going the other direction, who already made it to the top and back, whizzing by at 35 mph (yet cheering you on that "you're almost there!")

I FINALLY rounded a bend and SAW the checkpoint, yet it was still a mile away. I swear it was the longest mile ever. And what's worse is that, when I reached the checkpoint, I had to go about another 200 yards up the mountain for the traditional "Jubilee Pass" photo op. It was well worth it though.


Coming back down out of the pass was one of the most amazing parts of the ride. I was flying down the mountain at 30 - 35 mph, on chip seal asphalt (so the bike is vibrating like crazy), all while the pass is opening up and Death Valley is spreading out before me in an ever-widening salt sea. I remember at one point seeing riders flying along from left to right far out ahead of me in my field of vision, and wanting to stop and take a video with my Droid (but didn't want to stop). Truly breathtaking.

By the time I got back to Ashford Mill, I was a wreck. I wasn't accustomed to drinking that much gatorade, and a wave of stomach cramps kept coming and going. A picture taken of me at that point pretty much sums up my physical status.


The cool part was that my roommate Nick and I had settled into a pretty good pace together. Occasionally he'd hook onto a train of riders that were at a slightly different pace, or vice versa, but we'd reconnect at the checkpoints. We also picked up a couple of riders from Wisconsin, one of whom was one of the many coaches out on the field, and met up with JD Stone from the WM team.



It was right after Mormon Point that I ran into trouble. I kept pushing along, hoping the stomach aches would go away. But then headaches started coming on and off. At one point, I had completely separated from any other cyclists, and couldn't see any riders or cars at all far ahead or far behind me. I kept rounding huge mile-long bends to the right just thinking that Badwater had to be around the next one. I even remember approaching a car parked along the road (where a young lady was waiting to take photos of family in the ride), thinking that perhaps I should ask her for assistance, or at least stay near her car, but I kept on.

At about mile 87 or so, my headache had reached throbbing proportions. A group of about 10 riders, I believe from Sacramento, California, rode past and several asked if I was OK. One of them stopped and I asked her if she had any Ibuprofin or pain-killer, explaining my headaches (and stomach aches). She laid it out for me that they were not your usual headaches, but were probably signs of dehydration and heat exhaustion. The stomach aches were keeping me from intaking enough fluids, apparently. "Hop in a SAG wagon, ride the 5 miles to Badwater, and hydrate/cool off," she suggested. If I could recover enough, I could finish the last 17 miles from there and get a cool 100 miles (my first century). Sounded like a plan to me. Take a few steps back to be able to move forward.

I hopped the SAG and spent about 30 minutes at Badwater. The iced soaked towels that they were serving us all day never felt so good draped over my head. I think I even took in 4 or 5 24oz bottles of water in that 30 minutes, and felt as good as new (almost as good as I did that morning). At this point, it was late into the afternoon, probably about 3:00 or 3:30, and the temps had reached about 111!! But after I got checked out by one of the medics at Badwater, I got the go-ahead to finish the ride.

I hooked up with Nick, JD, two riders from Wisconsin, and a couple of other riders that I don't recall where they were from. We tried to stick together for the final trek, but ended up getting split up as everyone was eeking out every last bit of energy they had left. The organizers even set up a makeshift water station about 6 miles from Badwater (about 10 miles from home), which was a most welcome reprieve.

But in the end, I got into a train with a rider named Larry and a coach named Rick (?) from Wisconsin, each of us taking turns at the helm to give the others a rest. Rick, at 4 miles out, said that he didn't think he could finish, yet we pushed on. I even remember telling Larry, who was at the front at the time, to go easy and just do a comfortable pace. Finishing the ride and pulling into Furnace Creek was more important to me than how fast we did the last 10 miles. And finish is what we did.



*Yes, that was beer at the finish line. :)