A taste of spring - SFR Russsian River 300k: 2/21/2009

Ahhh, the legendary SFR 300k. I'd heard stories of the 2007 ride - epic wind and rain, with riders saved by the generosity of the Marshall store in staying open long past their official hours. I had even had my own epic experience the weekend before, although for only half the distance (93 miles instead of 187). Even the night before there was conflicting weather information: accuweather claimed rain all day, although with light winds, while the sfgate.com weather forecast was much more benign, with rain not expected to move in until the evening. What would it be?

As it turned out, the day was a great one for cycling. It was hard to tell in the pre-dawn darkness as I downed breakfast, drove over to the start and unloaded the bike, but the weather gods were definitely smiling that day.

As this was my second ride with the San Francisco Randonneurs, I knew pretty much what to expect for a lot of the route, especially the first 20 miles or so. My main concern was avoiding the rocks which had caused a flat tire on the SFR 200k in January. After the pre-ride meeting, warnings, and Randonneurs pledge doled out by Rob Hawks, we were off, streaming over the Golden Gate Bridge in a line of reflective illuminated HPVs. I successfully negotiated the downhill into Sausalito without hitting a single rock (yay!), and thus was still in contact with the group as we worked our way towards Mill Valley. It was nice being able to occasionally chat with riders instead of doing the solo thing, and not having to concentrate on the route sheet/street signs was another bonus.

I took it easy going over Camino Alto, and again on Whites Hill, wanting to make sure I would have enough gas for later in the day. As I'm a pretty slow rider I was near the end of the pack at this point, but the day was turning out pretty nice and my legs were in much better shape than they had been in January.

As I headed down Sir Francis Drake I decided to make a pit stop in Samuel P. Taylor park. I knew there was a bike path through the park which was okay to use, but decided to stay on the road as traffic was light and I'm used to crappy roads (we have lots of those in the Santa Cruz Mountains). As I was exiting the park I passed another group of riders entering, and briefly thought about turning around and joining them, but decided to push down the road a bit.

About a mile or so later I noticed another entrance to the bike path and decided to check it out after all. I had
been planning to get a camera to take pictures during my brevets, but hadn't yet, so the cell phone came out and got fiddled with. The result is somewhat underwater looking, but I'll just credit that to leftover feelings from the previous weekend's ride.

Soon I noticed the group coming down the bike path towards me and snapped another unsteady shot.


Hey, it's a cell phone, not a camera.

At any rate, I hung with this group for a while, fielding comments about my bike (Rans Zenetik Tour), and enjoying the views as we climbed past the Nicasio Reservoir. This group included Kitty Goursolle and Bob Koen, as well as a couple of riders (Nicole and ?) who were just out for a spin and weren't in the 300k.

We soon came to the "secret" control, at which point I should have picked up a postcard in case I got to the Marshall control after the store was closed; somehow the thought was driven out of my head and I left without getting one. This was to cause much anxiety later.

The miles went by as we headed along past fields and gentle hills towards Petaluma. At Petaluma Nicole and her companion said their goodbyes, and we headed towards the Safeway. I took a little extra time here and left behind the group but the day was nice and as I said, I'm a pretty slow rider. The flowers (mostly Scotch Broom, unfortunately) were out in force in the many fields along the route.
The route zigged and zagged through Santa Rosa, with a funky park that I wanted to check out some other time.
Next was Healdsburg, the northernmost point of the route and the next control. I noticed a small park a few miles before getting there and did a quick stop to use the bathroom and refill my Camelbak telling myself I would save time at the control. This turned out to be mistaken.
At the Safeway in Healdsburg I decided to get a Nantucket Nectar. I then spent about 10 minutes in a "fruitless" search for the fruit juice aisle. One aisle was labeled "juice" but had no juice in it. Eventually I located the other, correctly labeled juice aisle, but had to settle for something other than my original choice, I don't even remember what now. Oh well, I also grabbed a V8 while I was there, those are always good. I took off ahead of a few riders still finishing lunch, knowing that they would probably pass me in the next hour or two.

I was now in the doldrums of my riding day. The route circled around the Russian River Valley, bouncing up and down hills covered with still-dormant grapevines, while my legs needed a break. I took my time and kept hoping that the next hill would be the last. I began to doubt that I would make it to Marshall before the store closed.

Finally the turn onto River Road appeared and my pace picked up a bit. This was a nice bit of riding, although with a bit more traffic. My legs started to feel better, which was good as I knew that Highway 1 was coming up with more hills. Finally, the bridge appeared and it was time to say goodbye, Russian River Valleyhello, Pacific Ocean.
Just after the bridge over the Russian River I stopped to chat with a group of touring cyclists who were curious about all the other cyclists they had seen. They were doing a three day tour and were heading down to Bodega Bay for the evening. That was my next destination too, but not my final one.

A few hills later I saw a terrible place to surf
but was very close to Bodega Bay. Here I bumped into a few other Randonneurs at Diekman's store (the next control), including the two 'bent riders Thomas and Jonathan. It turns out we had ridden together in the Santa Cruz Randonneurs 200k in August 2008 (my first brevet). Since I had forgotten to get a postcard at the secret control I asked them for the address, then picked up a postcard in the store with my other supplies. Surprisingly the store did not sell stamps.

Now I was on a search to make sure I got a stamp before getting to Marshall. I pedaled slowly through Bodega Bay looking for signs to the post office when I noticed the visitor's information center on the left. After waiting for the woman inside to finish her phone call I inquired about stamps, only to be told that there was probably no place in town to buy stamps until Monday. Apparently the post office had taken the stamp machine out after several episodes of vandalism with silly putty, and she didn't know of anyplace else that sold stamps. I did get to use the rest room, then quickly checked a gas station store next door, but they too didn't sell stamps.

Now my options were dwindling. I had two towns left before Marshall, but they were both smaller than Bodega Bay. I wheeled my way southward and on to the town of Valley Ford. I stopped at the main store and, not too hopefully, asked the woman if they sold stamps. "Of course! How many do you need?" Yee-haw!
I bought my one stamp and thanked her for saving my ride, then hit the road for Tomales and Marshall. Along the way I was treated to a gorgeous sunset, near a house with fiddle music coming from it.
And the sunset got even better. The cows probably loved it, but ignored it anyway.
I rolled into Marshall around 7pm and mailed my hard-earned postcard. At this point the much rumored rain was beginning to move in and I rode on through a few light sprinkles towards Point Reyes Station. Night riding with little or no traffic always gives me a feeling of timelessness, it's just you and your lights moving through the mostly hidden countryside and there's no real point in checking what time it is or how far you've gone, because you'll get there when you get there. So I kept turning the pedals, and eventually I got to Nicasio, then up over the hill and back to Sir Francis Drake.

I headed up Whites Hill then got a surprise; right around the summit I came upon the 'bent boys again. With all the time I spent looking for a stamp I thought I had seen the last of them back in Bodega Bay. I trailed them down into Fairfax, then stopped to call my wife.

The rest of the route passed by uneventfully until I got onto the Golden Gate Bridge. The wind was once again a wild thing here, gusting fiercely as I negotiated my way around the towers. But it was a token gesture; the ride was done as I could walk the remaining distance if needed, and there was no need. Soon I buzzed out the far side of the bridge and wheeled down to the finish.

A quick signout later I was back at the car and pondering dinner possibilities before the drive back to Santa Cruz. All in all it was a good ride, and while my time was not as fast as I had hoped for, the result was the same: 300k done, no flats, relatively good weather. Oh yes, and one In-n-out cheeseburger animal style! Yum!