pinned

there's a bicycle ride in California each year called the Death Ride. as the name would imply, it's pretty epic and brutal and (insert your favorite noun meaning HURT here). 129 miles, 15,000' of climbing, over five mountain passes.....all at altitude. if you complete all 5 passes, you get bragging rights, an ice cream, and a very limited edition enamel pin that only the 5-pass riders get. this pin is coveted in the endurance riding community (or something like that).

I first attempted the Death Ride in 2006. I was recovering from a chronic illness, about 30 pounds above my climbing weight, and trained to road race, not for endurance rides. I was training on the "if it sounds fun, do it" plan. did the Death Ride really sound fun to me? altitude sickness did me in. I lost my breakfast at the top of Monitor for all to see. I was dizzy and couldn't breathe. but the descents were so much fun I kept climbing as long as possible. long story short, I completed 3.5 passes, 90 miles, and probably 10,000' of climbing. but I was happy since I'd had no real expectations for the ride.

I attempted the Death Ride again in 2007. this time, it was a very last-minute decision to participate, and I dragged along my new romantic interest. I hadn't had a good training block due to some chronic poison oak and resultant side effects from the drugs to treat it. but I was about 25 pounds lighter than 2006 and had done some good altitude riding in the past few months. we made the mistake of starting too late (he didn't believe me when I told him we needed to start at 5:30am). we missed the cut-off time to ascend the final pass by a mere 10 minutes, completing 80+ miles, 12,000' of climbing and 4 passes. we vowed to come back and get that pin next year.

this year, I hadn't planned to ride the Death Ride again. I had some new coaching programs and clinics on the calendar, along with a race of my own (duathlon) on the same date. but about a month ago, I got a stress fracture in my foot and decided that since I couldn't run I would attempt the Death Ride once again. I persuaded my un-boyfriend (yes, the same one as last year but now my recent ex) to join me for another attempt at earning that pin. what the heck! we'd been doing a lot of long, hilly rides (ie 80-100 miles with 8,000+ feet of climbing) and had great endurance. even though I was 20 pounds heavier than last year I wasn't too worried about the weight since my power was also up.

so, here we are, July 12th, 2008, making my third attempt at completing the Death Ride. the UBF was a doll and took care of all the details (food, camping, etc). we made it to Markleeville in good time on Friday to register (but not enough time to spin the legs). we had a great dinner at the campsite and settled in for the night. and, most importantly, we had agreed to wake up at 4:00am so we could get on the road by 5:00 or so.

as we hit the first climb (Monitor pass), I knew I was in trouble. I couldn't breathe. I had forgotten my asthma inhaler. and it seemed that the altitude was really affecting me. I was freezing cold (unusual for me), breathing shallow and fast, and my HR was through the roof. even on the shallow grades, I was in my easiest gear (34-29) and could barely turn over my legs. the UBF was very supportive and convinced me to keep riding when I wanted to quit about 30 minutes into the ride.

we summitted Monitor and descended the backside -- such a sweet descent. I started feeling a bit better and was able to climb the back-side of Monitor pretty well until I hit about 7,000 feet. at that point, all the altitude sickness symptoms returned, along with a good dose of dizziness. I sent the UBF ahead and finished the climb on my own.

I maxxed out over 50mph on the front side of Monitor -- weeeee!!!! we did okay for the first bit of Ebbetts and then I suffered like a dog (and sent the UBF ahead to ride his own ride). I stopped several times to catch my breath and bring my HR down. I got physically sick once (much to the chagrin of the riders near me). and somehow, someway, I made it to the top.

I knew if I could make it up the backside of Ebbetts -- the shortest but steepest climb -- I could finish the ride. so we descended the backside of Ebbetts, and then climbed back up. at this point, I was mysteriously feeling much better. we summitted in plenty of time to make the 4:00pm cut-off at Woodfords (the one we missed last year).

the descent on the front side of Ebbetts was epic. it had started to hail -- big gum-ball sized hail. but it wasn't raining. so I led us down the switch-backy descent and to the flattish run into Markleeville. the UBF provided the perfect wheel to suck all the way into town.

we made a super-quick stop at our car in Markleeville. I changed my nasty shorts and gloves. I refilled my bottles with ice-cold drinks from our cooler. and I stocked up on more GU products. and I grabbed my rain jacket. and then we made the 3 mile climb & 3 mile descent to Woodfords. we decided to skip the rest stop there and continue on to Picketts Junction, knowing that if we made that cut-off time we were homefree for the last 10 mile climb up Carson Pass.

at some point, all hell broke loose. the heavens opened up, first with rain, then hail, then thunder and lightening. flash floods were running across the road, making it difficult to see the road. the hail was pelting (ouch) and cold. and the lightening was a bit scary. I thought to myself, "if I wanted to ride in the rain, I wouldn't live in California." there were signs on the side of the road that read "STUPD." I kept thinking about how stupid we were to continue riding. my left quad started cramping up. I got off the bike and pumped more electrolytes into my body. my cleats got gummed up in the wet sand. and it continued to rain and hail and thunder and lightening.

we made the cut-off at Picketts Junction. I thought "how sad to work so hard today and not be able to finish the ride because of a stupid storm." so I kept riding. the last ten miles weren't too bad. the storm continued, but the climb wasn't too steep and in some points it was actually flat. I had sent the UBF ahead because he was soaking and hypothermic and needed to ride harder/faster than I could ride at that point. about half a mile from the top, I saw him standing on the side of the road waiting for me. the sun had broken through and he said we needed to cross the finish line together. and we did.

we collected our pins and our ice cream and we signed the 5-pass finishers' poster. and then we sat and discussed how we would never, ever, in a million years, do this ride again.

by Sunday we were already plotting our strategy for a sub-9 hour ride and a coaching program and an altitude camp and.....

.....and what is it about the Death Ride that brings folks back year after year after year.......