Death Valley Century and Double Century 2009


       

Wow, what a day! The much anticipated Death Valley Double Century at Furnace Creek, California.  This was my primary cycling goal for 2009 and my first attempt at this uber ultra-distance. Two hundred miles on the bike is a long day.  My main concern was my butt.  My longest ride this year was 140 miles, the MS 150 to Ormand Beach and back.  The Death Valley event is sponsored by AdventureCorps , an athlete-run firm producing and promoting ultra-endurance and extreme sports events.  It appears Southern California is a hot-bed for untra-endurance cycling.  Most of the riders were from this area of the country.  Some of the people we talked to told us there was a series of double century events throughout the year.  Someone asked us what the double century scene was in Florida.  Our response was, "Urrrr, there isn't one."  

Ben Moore, Eddie Zeilman, and I survived the 2265 mile plane ride and 140 mile road trip to Death Valley.  It was finally time for "the experience" and an experience it was.   This was the toughest athletic  event I have ever participated in in my life, including Ironman and maybe even the triple ascent of Mt. Ventoux. However, you only seem to vividly remember the most recent pain so I'm not quite sure on this assessment.  I never expected the amount of climbing or strong winds. I knew it would be hot, but big deal, so is Florida.

The air in Death Valley is very dry and it is easy to get dehydrated, even if you are not exercising.  It is the lowest, driest, and hottest location in North America.  Rainfall in Death Valley averages less than 2 inches a year. Most of the time there is practically no moisture in the air at all. This means every breath goes in dry and comes out wet. When you are sleeping in Death Valley your body processes about a pint of water an hour by breathing and at the end of 8 hours sleep you have consumed about 1 gallon of water. 
 
The ride started out conservatively for me.  I wanted to go out slow, find an easy gear and spin for an hour or two for my warmup.  I knew it would be a long day so I was determined to pace myself and have a negative split, doing the last 100 miles faster than the first 100 miles.  Things were progressing fine until I climbed pass Scotty's Castle at mile 54 and reached Bonnie Claire Flat, heading towards Nevada. This was the longest, straightest, most boring road ever.  What made it worst, it was midday, very hot (90 something) and windy.  At mile 82, there was a very strong head wind.  My mouth was parched and I had no saliva in my mouth.  I was out or water and had to rely on Perpeteum as my sole source of fluid.  Not a very good thirst quencher.  I was headed for the turn around and next aid station at mile 98.   I made a miscalculation and learned an important lesson.  I looked on the course map prior to the ride to estimate how I was going to prepare for my nutritional and hydration strategy.  I calculated the distances between aid station, the time it would take to get there, and the number of water bottles I would need to survive.  What I did not figure in to the calculations was the headwind I would encounter.  So instead of covering 30 miles at 15 mph in 2 hours, the headwind slowed me down to 8-10 mph and it took more than 3 hours.  My legs started to cramp.  Not those big cramps, just those little twinges that remind you that things are about to get worst.  I've been there a few times before and began to get worried.    I knew I was headed for trouble if things did not change. This stretch of road was endless.  I saw Eddie coming in my direction. He was headed back from the turn around. I crossed over and stopped to chat and see how he was feeling.  Superman had lost his cape.  I could see he was hurting.  He told me his tights were tightening up.  We wished each other well.   I thought when I finally reached the turn around I would not want to get back on my bike and do this stretch of road again.  In the distance, you could see the intersecting highways that marked the turnaround.  I could see slow moving traffic and the  cars and trucks seemed so small.  But the more I rode, they never seemed to get any bigger.  I was trying to find comfort in my saddle for my very sore butt by shifting into a bigger gear and standing to relieve the pressure caused by the headwind.   Finally, I reached the aid station and was somewhat disoriented. Not walking that well,  I sat in a chair to relax and slammed 2 bottles of water.  I was extremely tired and hot.   I had no urge to use the restroom, another problem.  I tried but I couldn't go.  I came out of the portable toilet and felt a little self-concious as I got back in line to try again.  Nothing!  I decided that it was time to get back on the bike.  I told myself, "one pedal stroke at a time and keep drinking."  Heading back was much better. I got my nutrition and hydration together and with the help of a tailwind, I started to feel much better. Actually the longer I rode, the stronger I felt. I started picking off riders which was great for my morale. I tried to stay in my small chain ring as much as possible and keep my cadence up. My speed was up to 20+ mph.  I descended hard when I had the opportunity.  I had turned the corner for the day.  I was back on track.
 
At 6:00 p.m., the sun began to set and the colors were highlighted on the mountains.  Reds, oranges, yellows, greens and various shades of brown.  This is a beautiful time of day in Death Valley.   From this point on, the remainder of the ride would be fun and an amazing adventure.  When the sun finally set, It was so dark and quiet except for the noise of my Zipp wheels and the sound of me breathing. I had never riden in this type of setting before.  The extreme darkness provided no real perspective except fot the area that your headlight provided.  You could see the distant lights of other riders miles in front and behind you.  The stars were brightly shinning in the black sky and the half moon accentuated the desert evening. 
 
At mile 168, I was about to encounter the last real challenge, a 6.2 mile climb to Hell's Gate, and a real thrill coming down.  I was feeling incredibly strong at this stage of the ride and began to pass rider after rider as I made my way to the summit.   Most of the cyclist I passed were really hurting.  Some of them were off their bikes and in obvious discomfort.  I would offer words of encouragement but their state of fatigue left them unable or unwilling to respond.  I passed about 15 riders on the long, gradual 5% to 6% climb.  When I reached the top, I stopped at the last aid station, refueled, and then enjoyed a fantastic and well deserved 10 mile descent. I called them "free miles."   I shifted into my biggest gear and let it rip. Unlike Europe, the roads in Death Valley are straight. So with this assumption in the dark and my trust in the California Department of Highways, I opened it up and just hammered.   Because it was so dark, I couldn't see the speed on my headset.  I knew I was going fast, but I didn't know how fast.  Maybe another illusion.  I couldn't wait to download my Power Tap data into my computer to actually see how fast I was going.  After about 15 minutes of this, the road leveled off and my speed slowed enough for me to get an extra "flea" light out of my jersey pocket  to check my mileage on the headset.  When I turned on the flea light, I noticed I forgot to turn on the Power Tap headset at the last stop.  I lost all the downhill information. But, it was the best 10 miles of cycling in my life!  At the bottom of the hill, I returned to the main road, and at this point, it was only about 12 miles from the finish.  I felt very good.  I kept looking for lights ahead and indications of the finish area, but Furnace Creek Ranch is not heavily illuminated.  Suddenly, there it was, the finish line.  I was greeted by many well-wishers and wonderful volunteers.  And there was Ben and Eddie, relaxing, up front, in lawn chairs.   Ahhhhhh, so good to be finished and off the bike.  And my butt.  Ah yes, without too much detail, it was very sore. 
Finishing time: 15 h 26 m

I am so proud of my biking partners:  Eddie Zielman is so strong on the bike and was a great person to share this experience with.  His positive attitude is refreshing.
Finishing time:  13 h 15 m
 
Ben Moore works so hard on his fitness and nutrition.  He is a great example to anyone who wants to turn their life around and be healthy, active and the best dressed cyclist in Jacksonville. In my opinion, everyday he's a winner.  He finished 100 miles. 
Finishing time:  7h30m.

I invite anyone to join me on my next KONA adventure (chick here for On the Horizon 2010). I have a few possibilities for 2010.  I am looking for adventurous individuals.  Let me know if you are interested. Stay tuned.
 
Train hard, train smart!
 
        

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