Uncle Bill’s “Double” Century

Bill Bushnell — Saturday, June 19, 1993

On Friday night’s news I watched fog blow through the Golden Gate as the reporter told of how the heat wave was over. “Great,” I thought. “It’ll be comfortable for our ride down the California Aqueduct, and, more importantly, we’ll have a nice, strong tailwind to help us on our way.” Wishful thinking it was.

Shortly after 7:00 I leave home and ride quickly to Brent’s house in Sunnyvale. The ride passes without incident, and when I arrive, Brent and Jude are loading their bikes into Brent’s VW Camper. After we find a way to squeeze all our bikes on board, we drive off to Livermore.

Normally I don’t like to drive to the beginning of a ride. But to do this ride from Palo Alto would require riding a loop of about 180 miles—a bit more than is comfortable for me, especially with the heat we were about to suffer.

We arrive at the Livermore Public Library at 9:00, and the temperature is already pushing 90F. Dick Fulton waits for us on the sidewalk. Dick has been a member of Western Wheelers for a long time, but he seldom rides on club rides. He prefers riding with a small group of friends on shorter, more frequent rides. This is the first time he has ridden with us. After exchanging pleasantries and reassembling our bikes, the four of us set off in search of a restroom and water.

After tanking up on water, we head east on East Rd., then north on Mines Rd., and then east on Patterson Pass Rd. At Cross Rd. when I stop to take one of my infamous readings, the rest of the group continues ahead. As I start up again, another bicyclist comes up from behind.

“Is this the Western Wheelers ride?”, he asks.

“Yeah.”, I answer. “How did you know?”

“I saw the ride description in the newsletter. I thought of joining you today, but I don’t want to ride so far in the heat.”

“Where do you live?”, I ask.

“Tracy.”, he answers.

“I didn’t know Western Wheelers had members from so far out this way.”, I say.

“I recommend you take Coral Hollow Rd. It’s alot more gradual.”, he says.

“Yeah, we went that way last year, so we’re trying Patterson Pass Rd. this year. How are you getting back to Tracy?”

“I’ll take Flynn to Carroll to Altamont Pass Rd. Have a good ride!”, he says turning around.

“O.K. See you later.”, I say, wondering when the fellow manages to do a Western Wheelers ride since so few ride this far east.

The rest of our party is strung out on the increasingly steep climb up to Patterson Pass. I pass Brent and Jude, but Dick, who weighs 140 lbs, climbs quickly and I don’t catch up to him until after we reach the Pass. The west side of Patterson Pass Rd. is not that difficult, especially with the proper gearing.

We wait for everyone to reach the summit. Brent crests the top, and continues down the other side without stopping.

“I’ll see you guys at the bottom,” he says.

After the others start down the east side, I enjoy the view for a few moments and snap a picture of the many electric power generating windmills covering the mostly-brown hills in the area. Few blades are turning—a bad sign.

The eastern descent of Patterson Pass is a thrill. The first half-mile is very steep and straight. I manage to attain 47.0 mph with the help of a very weak tail-breeze. Further down the hill I use the brakes lightly before a few sharp turns, but otherwise, the road is straight and clean. Traffic is virtually non-existent on the wide, one-lane road.

I continue through the power line mess near Midway Rd. and catch the group at the Arco station Food Mart just before the I-580 overpass. After eating a snack, we continue over I-580 and then turn right onto the California Aqueduct Trail. The temperature is 97F.

The California Aqueduct runs from the California Delta at the outflow of the Central Valley to the Los Angeles Basin. The Krebs Cycling maps show a paved bike path running along much of its length, and when I called the Department of Water Resources to inquire about riding my bike on it, I was told that bicycles can ride nearly the entire length on a paved road that parallels the aqueduct. I was also told that only in the direst emergency should I entertain the idea of drinking its water as it is pumped directly and unfiltered from the Delta. Perhaps one of the modern portable water filters would remove the giardia, bacteria, and chemical pesticide runoff from the water would make the water safe enough to drink.

Unfortunately, the Department of Water Resources or whoever administers this trail has turned an excellent idea into an inconvenient headache. At every crossing right-of-way, one has to negotiate a two-foot gate. This means that on average, every mile or so, bicyclists must dismount, lift their bikes over the gate, walk across the road, and lift their bikes over a similar gate on the other side of the road before continuing riding.

These gates are presumably designed to discourage motorcycles from passing. They are made from a single bar of steel bent to form the outline of the lower half of an “I”, perhaps to allow one to walk one’s bike through. This does not always work, however, as the horizontal members at “A” (See diagram below.) are often too low to allow the pedals and hubs of a standard bicycle to pass through.

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Near several of the road crossings, people fish from the water. In light of what I was told regarding the water’s drinkability, I don’t think I’d want to eat any fish caught here.

The trail is paved, but the surface is very rough asphalt littered with rocks and mussel shells. Some of the shells look sharp enough to cut a bicycle tire, but no one flats. Since the asphalt is rough, speeds greater than 20 mph are uncomfortable if not difficult. I wouldn’t want to ride to Los Angeles on this!

By the time we reach Coral Hollow Rd., we debate detouring to CA-33 and heading south on the straight road, but after seeing the surface improve to a smooth asphalt on the other side, we press ahead.

Unfortunately, several miles later, the surface reverts to the rough asphalt. At the CA-132 freeway, the Trail gets its own overpass over the freeway. A couple miles later where the Aqueduct crosses under I-5, the trail comes to a dead end! Note that the Krebs Cycling map erroneously shows the Aqueduct Trail crossing under I-5.

This is the last straw. (Remember the temperature is pushing 100F.) After taking a picture of our predicament, we hoist our bikes over the obvious sag in the barbed-wire fence separating us from the I-5 and continue riding on the freeway. It seems that other cyclists have been here, too. I hope the Krebs map is correct in showing that it is legal to ride bikes on this section of I-5. No one expresses an overwhelming desire to go back and find a non-freeway route.

Riding on the shoulder of I-5 is literally a breeze compared to riding the Aqueduct Trail. The shoulder is at least 10 feet wide, so there’s plenty of room, and traffic doesn’t seem to pass as quickly as it does on CA-1 on the coast or on other straight, two-lane rural roads. Riding in a paceline is still somewhat difficult as the shoulder is littered with truck tire treads and occasional rocks. But the wind created by the passing trucks partially compensates for the natural tailwind that I had hoped for on this ride. We manage to cruise at speeds well over 20 mph without working too hard. Now, if only I had remembered to bring my earplugs, this part might actually have been relaxing.

(I have discovered a way of greatly reducing the stress of riding on crowded, noisy roads: Wear an earplug in the left ear. Leave the right ear unplugged so you can still hear traffic. An earplug does not reduce the small chance of being struck from behind, but it does reduce the stress associated with riding in noisy traffic, and it will probably make you less nervous. Try it.)

[I now wear earplugs in both ears when I ride on busy roads. The effect is to lower the overall volume level of wind and traffic noise, but one can still hear the sounds one needs to hear to ride safely. It’s no different from driving a car with the windows rolled up.]

Aside from a few trucks and motorists honking either insults or encouragement—I’m not sure which—most traffic passes politely. I definitely feel safer riding I-5 than I do riding on Skyline Blvd. near home.

A couple miles from the Aqueduct crossing, we reach a highway rest stop. People at the rest stop hardly bat an eyelash as we pull in on our bikes. A sign directs autos in one direction and trucks in another. There is no sign for bicycles, so we follow the “Autos” sign. This does feel funny, though. I wouldn’t expect anyone to ride his or her bike on I-5.

After eating a snack and resting a bit, we return to the freeway for the quick trip to the Westley Triangle, a collection of gas stations, mini-marts, motels, and junk-food havens. We pull into the Foster’s Freeze and cool off in the air-conditioned diner. Surprisingly, no one earns a Frank award this time. We all drink either water or soft drinks.

Upon stepping outside I check the temperature: 99F. We return to I-5 for the 6-mile jaunt to the next exit at Del Puerto Canyon Rd. We cruise along at speeds in excess of 25 mph this time. In very little time, we reach the exit and leave the freeway.

I check the thermometer again: 100F. This is insane. Why are we here? Have you figured out yet why I call this ride the “double” century?

From I-5 we head west into the mountains. The rest of the ride I rode and wrote about one year ago, so I won’t describe the road here. It looks much the same as it did last year. The grass is greener this year, but the temperature is about 20F hotter, too.

In several places we pass people trying to make the best of the heat by picnicking beside and dunking themselves into the algae-coated Del Puerto Creek. Yuck!

Suddenly I feel my rear tire go flat, or so I think. It turns out the asphalt of the road is so hot that our rear tires actually sink into it as we ride!

During the long and gradual climb up to Frank Raines Park, Dick and I manage the same pace. Dick rides a very nice-looking bike built on a recently repainted red Ron Cooper frame that he bought from Jobst Brandt back in the ‘70s for $150. The frame had originally belonged to Jobst’s nephew, Marc.

We stop at Frank Raines Park to rest, eat, and refill our bottles with COOL water. It’s really disheartening to be on a hot ride and have nothing to drink but hot water. It almost makes me ill to sip hot water on a hot day. I guess having no water is worse, so I shouldn’t complain.

We continue up to Beauregard Summit. The last mile-and-a-half is a very steep 800-foot climb. Fortunately, a small cloud passes over just as we begin the climb and stays with us until we near the top.

Aside from being unpleasant, the heat has potentially serious side-effects: it is difficult to eat solid food. Except for one small bottle of Cytomax, I don’t rely on energy drinks for Calories. I force myself to eat at rests, even though I don’t have much of an appetite. I feel no worse after eating than before, but if I don’t eat, I know I’ll be in trouble.

In addition to eating, I take a half salt tablet every two hours or so. I know there is some controversy surrounding the use of salt tablets. All I know is that I was saved more than once by taking a salt tablet when I was terribly dehydrated. I take buffered salt tablets that contain a combination of sodium chloride and potassium chloride. Neither Brent nor Dick will touch the stuff fearing a repeat of the vomiting they both experienced long ago when they last tried salt tablets. Jude takes a couple half-tablets throughout the ride. Neither of us experiences any digestive trouble. I intend to experiment with more complete inexpensive electrolyte replacement solutions in the near future.

One can take too many salt tablets. This happened once in the Sierras when I was paranoid about dehydration. I foolishly took two salt tablets within an hour when I thought I might be getting dehydrated. I was fine for the rest of the day, but that night I was awakened many times to drink huge amounts of water and to do other things to copious amounts of liquid.

Another irritating side-effect of the heat is I feel I am aerobically limited. Breathing really deep hurts like a mild asthma attack. Because of this, I find myself pedaling up the hills in a higher gear, using my leg muscles in an unaccustomed fashion. I wake a couple times the following night with severe leg cramps.

We regroup at the summit. A stiff refreshing breeze blows from the west, but upon checking my thermometer I discover that the temperature is still 95F!

From the summit to The Junction is only a few miles. At the Junction Cafe we relax inside, sip soft drinks and munch pretzels.

Brent asks the bartender, “So, did you get many bicyclists coming through here today?”

“Yeah. Only a few fools came through today,” he says with a smile.

We leave the cafe and begin the journey back up Mines Rd. to Livermore. The temperature is 97F.

The two upgrades to Eylar Ridge are hot. The air hangs still as inside an oven, and the setting sun heats the hot-iron red soil in the embankment along the road, which in turn reradiates the heat cooking us on both sides.

At the top of Eylar Ridge, we take a group picture and begin the long winding journey down Arroyo Mocho to Livermore. A few miles from the top we come upon a small herd of cattle in the middle of the road. The bicycles must startle the beasts as they actually start a fast trot down the road. The largest cow with huge udder and girth trots ahead like a very large woman wearing a tight, calf-length skirt and tiny, high-heeled shoes. Clop-clop-clop-clop-clop. The scene is hilarious.

Further down the road we stop once to take another group picture in front of the statue of “Snotty” on his bicycle, so named because he has a river of green snot running out of his right nostril and flowing over his leering grin. Who’s sense of humor we are enjoying here?

The remaining ride back to the Livermore Public Library passes without incident. At the end the temperature still hovers around 90F. After resting for a few minutes, we all head straight for Togo’s and each eat a large meal.

I don’t think I’ll plan a ride as hot as this for a while, but in a way I’m glad I did it. Riding long distances in this kind of heat requires careful attention to hydration and Calorie intake. I felt this ride was harder than the Sequoia Century Worker’s Ride (200k course) the week before. If nothing else, we all gained from the experience and from knowing we can do it.

Ride stats:

distance: 99.5 miles

climbing: 4590 feet

total time: 11:42

riding time: 7:07

average speed: 15.5 mph

maximum speed: 47.0 mph

index: 129

irp: 11

mirp: 18

climbing density: 43

climbing ratio: 0.0082

An article on indexing can be found here.

©2004, Bill Bushnell

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