Summer cycling in the US
It’s been a spectacular summer (at least where I’ve been), but now the kit that has seen me through the past few months is slowly being replaced by leg warmers, long-sleeved jerseys and warmers gilets. The European weather is heading into the autumnal spectrum of the season so any chance to keep hold of that sun is always welcome. Even if it involves many hours on cramped confined planes.
A lucky chance with work cropped up that saw me heading State side, and as always the bike wasn’t left behind. California along with a several other areas in the US has a great reputation for cycling. Colorado, Portland and Seattle are a few of the other prime destination.
Unfortunately due to time constraints I had to lump for only the areas around San Francisco and the Napa Valley, I know I know, its a damn shame but even through this hardship I managed to have a great time.
For starters I’ll cover what was definitely one of the harder rides that I’ve been foolish enough to undertake in the past few years. A spin around parts of the Napa Valley, or more precisely, the roads around Clif Bar founder Gary Erickson’s home, is where I spent a long day in the saddle.
Thanks to friends who race for the Clif Bar team in the US, I managed to tag along on the annual Clif Bar Epiphany ride, a 132 mile jaunt through the back roads close to Garys Erickson property.
The ride celebrates the day he undertook a epic training day and came to the conclusion that he could no longer stomach another substandard energy bar. That was the beginning of what was to be Clif.
Kitting up at 6am in a large field close to the house with a selection of guys and girls who are in some way connected to Cliff Bar was the start to what would be a solid day of turning the pedals, sometimes in lovely swoopy circles other in the jabbing square movement when you’re seriously shattered.
Words circulated amongst the assembled riders that the previous year the temperature at the bottom of the first climb the previous year was a little on the chilly side. Throwing on my Sottile Due vest and Nano arm warmers was a wise move, descending down the first climb they came in to its own. The morning chill was kept at bay, I could enjoy the swooping corners of the first 15 miles of roads that lead to a large glimmering lake. With the sun raising its head above the hills the air slowly warmed, the gilet got packed away and the real riding was about to start.
I’d come into the ride without any clue as to what the terrain or weather conditions that day were to be, flying from Europe and spending the previous day building the bike and trying to get ready for the ride didn’t leave any time to check profiles or weather conditions. It was going to be a day of exploration and discovery for me.
Soon the sun was up and the group was chewing through the miles. Seeing other cyclist shoot past in the opposite direction didn’t seem to be a regular occurrence.
Where we were heading was either on relatively quiet roads cursing past large pasture land with old wooden farm buildings sat in the yellowing grass, hills cutting through rock faces or dirt roads with overhanging trees that had their leaves scorched off by the summer heat.
So when one of the only guys who shot past in the opposite direction to us was ex-pro Levi Leipheimer it came as a little surprise, even more so when it turned out that he had spun round and joined the ride, obviously making it look easy.
Whether it was me being foolish or poorly informed about what was to come I spent an extended time on the front keeping pace with fitter friends, the first 40 miles after the downhill to the lake was through some great rolling scenery, the legs felt fine and worries of what was to come didn’t even enter my mind as I chatted, took in the scenery and caught up on news with old friends. Gravel sections were welcomed as we imagined ourselves as classic riders taking on the back roads of northern Europe, but clearly not riding anywhere near as classy as we thought we were.
At about the 70 mile mark the heat started to really hit, with the dust and dirt roads tackled, the course was now getting on the hilly side.
The morning’s choice of the Climber’s jersey matched with the Inferno jersey was now turning out to be an inspired choice. I love these two pieces of kit, they’d already seen a ton of action in the European summer back home. But in these dry and hot conditions they were coming into their own. If you’re from an area where the weather is what I like to call “killer hot”, then it may well be worth your time checking out this combo. It’s good enough for the pros and it was sure good enough for me as I struggled to haul my carcass over the multiple climbs on the ride.
Climbs that wound their way up rocky open roads. The scenery was stunning, lakes and trees spreading below into the distance. The hill sides though that we climbed through were barren, dusty rocks bounce the heat of the mid day sun back at you making the temperature seem a good few degrees hotter that I’m sure it was.
The lakes below soon look to be the place where you’d soon want to be dashing down to and jumping in.
Even when you’re struggling riding with friend makes it a damn sight easier. Banter and joking gets you through some hard times, that and the multiple fuel stops (obviously cliff bars were on offer).
At the 90mile mark and with some broken rough and down right savage roads behind us, we could just about see some light at the end of what had already been a long but hard day.
The problem though was the remaining 40 miles. This is still a fair trek when the heat was as hot as it was and roads are broken up by bomb sized craters in places. I was surprised that this particular ride years ago had inspired Gray to start producing energy bars and not become a road worker laying fresh tarmac.
On the pothole and gravel strewn roads the comfortable Progetto X2 pad in the shorts were definitely helping my cause.
As we neared the end turning back on to roads that we had started on 7 hours previously the mood of the small group I was in lightened, we knew that soon we would be able to jump in the pool (fully kitted) cool off, eat a ton of food and have a beer. Jokes about who’s stupid idea it had been to even undertake the ride were thrown about, everyones legs were sore but the usual competitive nature of cyclists was still present.
As we hit the last climb of the day that lead back to Gary’s property we started spending the last of the energy, stupid attacks were made then as quickly stopped as we realized that the 8 hours in the saddle had taken its toll.
Rolling into the drive with people cheering the pain that was in the legs soon vanished.
As cyclist we can be a fickle lot, no matter how much pain you put yourself through, the memories of that suffering and struggle is always replaced with a feeling of accomplishment. And like any good cyclists the initial feeling of “never again” is always soon replaced with “yeah, next year and I’ll be quicker and fitter”.