Revenge of the Mountains

For those keeping score this will be the saga of Day 3-Sonoma to Bodega Bay with the Occidental option.  Starting out in Carneros we biked 65 miles including three serious 1000 foot climbs.  It all started innocently enough with a rolling hills AM ride to Matanzas Creek Winery.  We start the day with another blow your face off breakfast, packed our gear and then assemble for Route Wrap and take off. 




Jill putting out the pre ride goodies

 Nace, Rita and MJ choose to opt out of the first leg and take the shuttle to Matanzas Creek Winerey where we were to meet for lunch.  There was a pretty significant climb with some steep sections that made you curse involuntarily so it was up to Karina, Gus and I to lead our team on this day.  We managed this leg very well with Gus and I trying to punch each other out at each climb section and Karina simply plugging away.  It is hard to imagine that she has ridden less than a year.  Her riding and climbing skills are unsurpassed.

We arrived before the shuttle at our lunch stop and stretched our legs for a few minutes. When they arrived with lunch we took ours "to go"  and headed out since we had two more big segments and it was really too early to eat.  The intention was for Nace, Rita and MJ to ride this middle segment, which had no HC catagory climbs, and then shuttle in at the end of that segment to Bodega Bay.  We soon found out that it was not exactly what they would have been looking for; a 20+ MPH headwind with an up hill grade.  Gus and I traded pulls with Karina honing her  "hanging on like a baby possum" skills.  At one point Gus says "man we are really moving".  I had to bring him back to earth, being the only one with telemetry, with the sad news that although we were hammering like steamships we were barely holding 11 MPH.

We looked at each other and agreed that it was time to place a call to the ladies and inform them that it would be best for them to opt out of this ride entirely.

We pushed on and reached the highlight of the middle leg of our triple crown for the day, the Washoe House.  We had been told (warned) about this place in the morning pre-ride briefing.  Of course we disregarded the advise.

The Washoe House is a historic landmark, basically a tavern with rooms upstairs that was built as a stagecoach stop.  It has not aged well.  By the time we got there it was time for a pit stop but we were advised to buy something if we were going to use the "john".  Karina and Gus bravely entered while I looked around the outside for easy escape routes in the event a bar fight broke out.  I finally went inside and even though smoking has been banned for years in CA I easily added (subtracted?) 25 pack years due to the stale air inside.

We got some pretty strange looks as we walked in like three cowboys (necessitated by our bike shoes) and I am pretty sure that at least two of the bar stool inhabitants went straight to an AA meeting when they saw us walk in.  Gus ordered three ice teas to meet the obligation for use of the facilities.  I could tell by looking at the place that I would risk kidney injury before taking a leak in the bathroom.  Karina, however, bravely walked through the storage room to use the facility and struck up a nice conversation with one of the locals en route.  Gus, who is apparently running for mayor, was also chatting up some of the locals.  I was more enthralled with the decor.  I am going to be conservative in my estimate, but there could be no less than 10,000 one dollar bills thumb tacked to the ceiling and walls.  A good number of these bills predated the CA smoking ban and ranged in color from copper to maroon.  The topper was a lady brought in by wheelchair and lifted onto a barstool.  I cannot make this stuff up.

"Refreshed, we set out for our next intermediate destination, Occidental.  We turned into the hills and the scenery changed from the barren, wind burned farm land to protected mountain forest.  Although we were now climbing we actually were moving faster with no wind and the rejuvenating scent of eucalyptus.  We reached the top of Occidental and I would have to say that I was pretty well gassed.  This is a nice little hill top town.  Gus spotted a general store with outdoor facilities.  He disappears inside the store and  pops out, beaming, with half a watermelon, which I swear was the best tasting melon I ever ate and it kept me from abandoning the last two climbs to the top.

  We again headed straight uphill winding our way to the last great mountain range between us and the Pacific Ocean.  We were so looking forward to seeing the ocean from this vista and there had not been a cloud in the sky since we left Sonoma 6 hours before.  There are actually two big climbs on this leg with a little descent between.  To add just a bit of extra excitement  there are blind curves, delivery and cement trucks and occasional cattle bars in the roadway.  I found if you fly over them fast enough they give the same sensation as a cell phone on vibrate.  It is unwise to try to slow down for these since they are a slick as railroad tracks and the least bit of hesitation is fatal.  We start  the final climb of the day and the cursing begins in earnest.  We pass more luscious berry patches and slow  for a wild turkey hen crossing in front of us.  At just the right time the Backroads van appears from the opposite direction and Leah offers us water and freshly cut pineapple.   She also kindly omits the fact that we were going to be shut out on our ocean view.

There is a long flat at the top and we stopped to look east and see for miles. It is about 80 degrees.  We had also been told to prepare to put on the cold weather gear which was hard to fathom given the current conditions.

We continued on, not more than 1000 yards, and could see wind blown fog racing across the road just ahead.   Within seconds the temperature dropped 30 degrees and our view of the Pacific was obscured by pea soup.

The final decent of the day was upon us and descend we did, about 1000 feet in 3 miles.  Gravity is amazing and I could not imagine free falling much faster than the 40+ I was trying to maintain without overcooking the rims and blowing a front tire.  After a few forearm searing minutes the smell of salt air was around us, waves could be heard crashing and all of the sudden we are at the intersection of US1 trying to stop before running across the road and over a 400 foot drop into  the ocean.  We stopped by the road and Gus walked toward the edge with his arms extended as if there might be a railing in front of him.

It was breathtaking to see this after 60+ miles.

 

 

  We headed south for about 4 miles to the Inn at the Tides, our lodging for the night. 
Dinner was at the Tides, made famous as the location for Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds".

The one thing about an active vacation is there is not much need for nightlife.  Trying to stay awake during dinner is a challenge.  We picked up our desert "to go" and headed back up the hill to our hotel for a much needed rest.  As we ascended we were greeted by the cheers of our tireless Backroad leaders Nick and Jill, who had set up a makeshift sign of encouragement "almost there" complete with a basket of fruit, trail mix and Cliff Bars.  It shames me to think about feeling tired considering all the work and energy these incredible young people put into making this trip so seamless.