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When Jacky and I were in Chadron at Christmas last year, Loren made some remark to the effect that he would never have been able to bicycle across the country. I assured him that he certainly could if he wanted to, but in the back of my mind was the nagging question, “Could he have been even a little bit serious?”
In an unrelated stream of events, Pat and Mark decided to celebrate their 20th wedding anniversary by inviting families and friends to Mt Elbert lodge in the Colorado Rockies. We hadn’t had a real vacation this year, and decided to go. I decided to take a week’s vacation in advance of the trip and do some bicycle touring in the Sierra Nevada and Owens Valley. Jacky, self-employed, couldn’t afford the extra time, so we agreed that she would pick me up at or near Lone Pine the following weekend, and we’d go on to Colorado from there.
At this point, I got the idea of borrowing Jacky’s bike and inviting Loren along on the tour. A phone call to Allison to okay the deal and confirm that Loren, 17, hadn’t grown too big for Jacky’s bike, and I went ahead and extended the invitation.
The idea was that Loren would fly to California and we’d get him home as far as Colorado. He would get back to Lincoln by bus or by begging a ride from attendees at the fête.
29.1 miles, 780 vertical feet
Loren arrived. Planned for mid-morning, but turned out to be mid-afternoon due to aircraft problems and consequent re-routing. Rode the Portola valley loop. Loren rode through some glass, got a flat rear tire that had to be patched three times before it held, including once the next morning. A strong rider on the flats, knows about cadence, knows how to patch a tire – he was an old hand at tire patching by the next day!
25.98 miles, 1130 vertical feet
Concerned that Loren doesn’t have hill climbing experience. Doesn’t seem strongly motivated to acquire it. Likely to be a problem in the Sierra. But I’m doing my best not to nag him – he’ll survive, and ultimately profit more by learning to develop his own motivation internally. Got him to ride up Page Mill road after work as far as Foothill park.
38.63 miles, 2560 vertical feet
After work today, we rode Old La Honda, Skyline, Page Mill. Loren’s first climb; lots of work.
Easy day.
45.63 miles, 3640 vertical feet, max speed 38 mph
We got up at 5:30, had breakfast, and loaded the car. First adventure of the day – the bikes wouldn’t fit on the car’s roof rack with their front racks in place. Although I hadn’t realized it, they had clearly never been up there before. So we loosened the front racks, pushed them up out of the way, and secured them with bungee cords.
While planning the trip, I had called Beth for advice. She very generously offered to drive us across the Central valley and drop us at a point of mutual agreement on the other side.
Off to Dublin, where Beth met us with her van. Her roof rack held bikes upside down by the saddles and handlebars. Our cork padded handlebar tape and æro brake cables wouldn’t fit in the clamps. I managed to force mine in (I needed new handlebar tape anyway – now I have a real incentive), but Loren’s wouldn’t go. So we loaded his bike inside the van.
Stopped in Mariposa, elevation approximately 2000', at the junction of highways 49 and 140. Here are the bikes, panniers, and tents, all laid out ready for assembly.
Before launching, we stopped at a restaurant for lunch. Beth ordered a grilled cheese sandwich, Loren ordered a cheeseburger and fries, and I went for the soup and salad bar. The waitress looked at our clothes and asked with some incredulity if we intended to go cycling that afternoon after a lunch like that!
We hit the road right at 12 noon. The climb starts before you even leave Mariposa. Beth passed us in the direction of Yosemite. I waved as she passed – just to prove the rear view mirror really works.
The first climb was to Midpines summit, the better part of a thousand feet. A good grade, and not too hot yet.
We had a long, gentle descent, followed by about three miles of moderately steep descent. Good road, easy curves. I was leading the way…rounded a curve…no Loren in my mirror. Slowed down, still no Loren. Oh, dear!
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Turned around, went back. Loren was working on a flat tire when I got to him. Propped up my bike and went over. Looked fine from the left side – then I saw the right side. Shredded shorts and lots of missing skin from the right leg and both arms. No helmet damage. |
It turned out that a bus had flipped a rock up, his front tire had blown out, and he had crashed onto the shoulder. The good part is that it was loose scree, and he mostly just skidded – no sand in the wounds. No bones broken, no ligaments torn, just a lot of skin gone. Loren told me later that he had practiced falling and rolling in gym class; that may have helped minimize his injuries.
I smeared everything with Polysporin. Loren said he had had a tetanus booster a couple of years ago. As to the bike: abrasion on both brake handles, the top loop of the front rack, and the top of the right rear pannier! Loren said it was the wildest roller coaster ride he’d ever been on. He found a scrap of his shorts that had melted from the friction. The top of his shoelace, neatly knotted, was sitting on the road. We salvaged the pieces, since there was no spare and his shoe was flopping.
Got the bike back together and continued down to the Merced river. The road runs for several miles right by the river, a very gentle uphill. Good riding, the surrounding country getting higher and steeper, but not much exposed rock.
Eventually the road steepened and the day got hot. At a gas station at 3 PM, the thermometer read 100° in the shade. We stopped several times for water, including one place where the only potable water came from jugs. I offered to pay, but the guy waved me away, apologetic that the water wasn’t cold.
Lots of water. Not much food. Loren wasn’t hungry and didn’t want to eat the gorp or dried fruit we had. Eventually I got on his case about bonking and he started eating a little more. He said it helped. Subsequently we agreed that granny bars were more palatable, and gave up on gorp; today, it was dried fruit and gorp or nothing.
At one stop, we noticed little loose fibers on Loren’s front tire, and I promised we’d get a new tire when we found a bike shop – Lee Vining, maybe. Later, Loren found an unsightly bulge where the casing was actually failing. I suspect the tire was damaged by the blowout. We crossed our fingers that we’d make it to Yosemite, where we’d put on the spare fold-up tire I carry for emergencies. I’d rather not do it now, on top of all the other hassles of the day, unless it becomes really necessary.
The climb to Yosemite was long and hot and Loren’s wounds were bothering him a lot. We ended up stopping every mile, sometimes every half mile, sometimes every quarter mile. Difficult day. Sheer granite wall is first visible at El Portal, where the road begins its serious climb. Narrow road, much of it with stone fence right at the edge and drop-off to the river beyond. Lots of traffic. Not a real relaxing ride. I especially didn’t like rest stops on the road itself, but there were stretches with no way to get off the road.
When you gotta stop,
you gotta stop.
Finally struggled up to Yosemite valley itself and the grade leveled out. The ranger at the gate offered us maps. I declined, and he said, “I guess you guys have enough weight already!” There are several more miles of riding within the valley before you get anywhere, but the grade was better, the day had cooled off with the onset of evening, and the main loop is a two-lane one-way road, so we could claim a lane when we needed to. The scenery also helped ease the end of the ride.
Sights: a bear trap, two 55-gallon drums welded together, drop latch door, Forest Service green.
A sign at the entrance station said all the campgrounds were full. The Ticketron reservation office at Curry village was closed for the night. We went to the nearest campground – Lower Pines – and looked for a party that 1) had bikes, and 2) were there. I asked if we could borrow a back corner of their campsite, and that solved one problem.
Next order of business was showers. We had seen a bathhouse on the way in, at the housekeeping cabins. Collected our things and walked back to it, about half a mile. It was the height of the evening rush; there was a line. We ended up in line behind a guy who had cycled to Tioga pass and back that day, 140 miles.
He was from Michigan, on a business trip with some riding added in. I said I didn’t know they had long distance cycling in Michigan. Turned out he was the 24-hour distance record holder for Michigan, ex-racer, RAAM, etc. He looked to be in really good shape…especially his mouth. Lots of talk. He said upper Michigan is great cycling country, hills and woods, similar to northern Minnesota.
By the time we finished showering, it was dark. Food was the next priority. A passer-by said there were restaurants in Curry village, which was on the way back to our campsite. Discovered there are also showers there. Good info for tomorrow.
The cafeteria was closed, but there was a pizza place, along with an ice cream place and a lounge. All of them fronted onto a wooden deck filled with tables and crowded with people.
After we ordered, we looked around for a table, and invited ourselves to share a table with a couple of guys who had been in the pizza line just ahead of us. They were Ben and Eric, on a singles outing sponsored by the Palo Alto Jewish Community Center.
Ben was a psychologist, he had climbed the cable up Half Dome, had lost his camera when he entrusted it to an acrophobe who dropped it down the cliff, and he was the fastest worker with women I have ever seen. For a while I thought we’d lost him to the next table where there were a couple of women, but he came back when the women’s kids joined them. Then Linda joined us, another member of the singles weekend, and he moved in on her.
Linda recognized us. “You’re the cyclists, aren’t you? And you,” turning to Loren, “took a nasty spill!”
Eric had never been to Yosemite before, had chickened out of the climb at Quarter Dome, but was having a great time.
Good people-watching!
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