Heavy Weather - SCR Moss Beach 200k: 3/1/09

Another rainy day ride. In fact it was a stormy day ride. But thanks to my attempt at the Moss Beach Permanent two weeks earlier, I had skewed expectations of what bad weather was.

The day dawned gray and cloudy, with forecasts of rain and wind, but initially the rain held off. I had gathered my rain gear the night before, and my booties were benefiting from a dosing of silicone waterproofing spray, in the hopes that any rain would be held out that much longer. Additionally, given that the temperatures were supposed to be fairly warm (high 50s to low 60s) I threw my light fingerless gloves into the rack pack. For the definitive post-ride touch I had extra socks and sneakers in the car.

Breakfast and dressing went fairly quickly, followed by the 20-minute drive down to Santa Cruz. I had considered riding to the start, but decided I might regret that decision later if I ended up cold and miserable at the end of the ride. Having the car there turned out to be a good idea, but not for the reasons I originally thought.

I parked near the end of the ride, then hopped on the bike for the quick trip to the start at the Santa Cruz Surfing Museum, where the day's riders were gathering and signing in with Bill Bryant and Lois Springsteen of the Santa Cruz Randonneurs. Scott Brittle was there also; he was going to run SAG for the day. I had started with my full gloves and liners, but the morning was so warm I decided to switch to my light half gloves. I also fiddled with my cell phone; I had a ziplock bag to help protect it from the rain and decided to see how pictures looked taken inside the bag

vs. outside.

The bag definitely softened the images compared to no bag.
I decided I would use the bag whenever it was raining significantly, as a new cell phone wasn't in my plan for the near future. I'm hoping to pick up a weatherproof camera for future rides, perhaps an Olympus Stylus 1030SW, but for right now the cell phone will do, since I carry it anyway.

One more shot of the start:
After the usual informative pre-ride meeting we headed north under gray skies with light rain. As usual, I worked my way towards the back of the field with grim determination. The route used for today's ride was the reverse of "normal", with the outgoing leg being pretty much a straight shot north to Moss Beach via Pescadero, San Gregorio, and Half Moon Bay, whereas the return leg digressed to La Honda and rejoined Highway 1 via Haskins Hill.

After exiting Santa Cruz proper we passed by the usual collection of coastal farms, most looking forward to the later days of spring and summer.


No strawberries available today, but lots of green everywhere, along with ambitious flowers.

We quickly sailed past Bonny Doon Road, where just two weeks earlier the pros of the Amgen Tour of California had ridden up into the Santa Cruz Mountains to be welcomed by large crowds of people and medium-sized crowds of hail, then onward past Davenport.



A couple miles later brought the sight of Scott Creek, then after crossing the ridge paralleling the Swanton Road loop we dropped down by Waddell Beach (forgive the water spot on the lens) and the slide zone just south of the San Mateo County line.

So far the rain had not been too bad, and the wind was still pretty light (and from the south), so no worries.

Gazos Creek Road was pretty with all the recent rain, and the creek seemed to be rushing along as fast as we were going in the opposite direction. No broken spokes today!






After navigating the bumps on Cloverdale Road I stopped at the first control in Pescadero. I went into the usual market to get my receipt; however the front register was not open and it turned out that the register they used in the back gave receipts which not only had an incorrect time stamp but also didn't have any names identifying the town. I toyed with the idea of asking them for a store stamp, but decided since the time was incorrect anyway I would just pick something else up at a different store. The next store was perfect; properly labeled receipt and correct time stamp. I resolved to use this one for Pescadero from now on.

Next up was Stage Road to San Gregorio. I usually encounter this on the way back, but with today's "reversed" route it was actually nice to navigate with fresh legs and enjoy the views. (Sorry my bagged cell phone camera doesn't do it justice.)

Soon enough San Gregorio came into view, then the climb up the last part of Stage Road back to Highway 1. There I caught my second view of a cyclist pulling a trailer. I had passed him on Highway 1 shortly before turning onto Gazos Creek Road and I waved and we exchanged greetings as I pulled ahead again. I found out later from Alfie's pictures that his name was Brock Tully and he was riding on a personal mission: a kindness tour.

I rolled on with increasing traffic, now that we were getting close to Half Moon Bay. The rain was still not too bad overall, and I was still pretty dry; a far contrast to my last attempt at this route where I was pretty much soaked within four hours of starting. At one point I was spied upon by a bunch of birds on the wires.
The miles to Half Moon Bay rolled past, then it was onwards to El Granada with the big golf ball sticking up over the coast.

Finally I reached the turnaround at Moss Beach, where Alfie, Lisa, and Scott were welcoming randonneurs with food & drink, and Alfie was taking pictures of every bike and rider that rolled up. Here Alfie is busy snapping shots of my bike, while an unknown rider hangs out next to Lisa and Scott. I refilled my Camelbak one more time and snarfed a banana, then headed back south to Half Moon Bay, now pushing into the wind.

On the way to Half Moon Bay I passed one of those signs that make it obvious you're in California.


I stopped in a Starbucks for a turkey sandwich and a double espresso, but the line for their restroom was slow, so I popped next door to the completely empty Subway where I bought a bottle of juice and then, enjoying my new status as a customer, made use of their restroom.

From that point on it was pushing south into the wind, which wasn't too bad at this point. I made the turn onto Stage Road, zoomed down to San Gregorio, then turned uphill on Highway 84 towards La Honda. Arriving at La Honda I had a sense of deja vu; once again it was a gloomy rainy day, my gloves and shoes had begun to soak through, and I had to dry my hands off on newspaper to avoid smudging my postcard. However it was much warmer than the last time, and I was on the homeward stretch, so no worries.

I headed down Highway 84 to Pescadero Road and began the climb up Haskins Hill. I caught glimpses of another cyclist in front of me and near the summit I noticed he was walking. I was briefly distracted by my seat squeaking, and decided it needed a shot of cooking spray between the pad and the seat pan when I got back home. In retrospect I should have remembered that whenever my seat had squeaked before, it meant the seat pivot bolt had sheared off and I was stressing the quick release. (The ultra-wide, ultra-comfortable seat on my bike is held on by a pivot bolt and a quick release which allows changing the angle easily.)

I was just about to catch up to the other rider when I heard "Bang! Ping...ping...ping...". Great, now what's wrong? I pulled off and checked out my seat. Hmm....the seat pivot bolt is missing its bolt head...and the quick release is missing the nut. Both had sheared off, probably the seat pivot bolt first and then the quick release bolt once it had had enough. I was 40 miles from the end of the ride and my seat was flopping back and forth and side to side, essentially unattached.

After examining things for a couple of minutes I removed the cam washer from the quick release (making the remaining portion long enough to reach all the way through the seat brackets) and stuck it through the quick release slots in front of my seat post (instead of through the holes in the seat post). I secured it with a couple of zip ties and electrical tape (good things to have). Gravity, my body weight, and the remaining half of the seat pivot bolt held the seat in more or less the right position as long as I was careful not to stress it too much. I decided to take it easy from now on, since I would rather make it back late than not at all.

Surgery complete, I finished the climb up to the summit and snapped a couple more shots for posterity, looking inland
and towards the ocean.

I could see the clouds were clearing way off over the ocean; perhaps this meant an end to the rain. At any rate, I was on the home stretch, zooming down the hill, through Loma Mar, and on towards Butano Cutoff. But now that I was pointing south the wind decided to have a say in the matter. It was blowing probably 20+ mph, making progress on Cloverdale Road extremely slow across the flats. I was very happy to get to the couple of hills marking the junction with Gazos Creek Road, but was dreading the return to Highway 1. At least the rain had completely stopped; I was even drying out my gloves in the wind.

Towards the end of Gazos Creek Road another randonneur came up behind me on a classic Miyata, downtube friction shifters, etc. This turned out to be Brian Schaeffer. I told him my sad story of broken seats and broken hearts, and as we got to Highway 1 he told me to tuck in behind him and he pulled us for about the next 10 miles into the wind, till we crossed the county line and I dropped back to take a sunset picture.
I figured that was work enough for him, and I'd owe him a beer the next time I saw him. I pushed on, knowing there wasn't much left to go. A little while later I noticed the glow of a rider's helmet light near an emergency call box. I though maybe it was Brian waiting for me, but as I pulled over I realized it was a different rider, actually Phil Magallanes, who had had an epic day for flats and was out of working tubes. I offered him one of my spare tubes, and then on second thought gave him my second one. I wasn't too worried about flats with my tires, but he apparently needed all the help he could get. It turned out he ended up using both of them.

I continued on south, leaving Phil to finish fixing his tire, and had just passed Davenport when a rider caught up to me. I figured it was Phil, but no, it was Brian again. He had made a pit stop in Davenport, which allowed me to pass him. Once again he took the lead and pulled us the rest of the way into Santa Cruz, with no further mishaps. Now I owed him two beers.

At the finish we signed in and chatted about the day; apparently many riders had had multiple flats from all the debris. I mentally kissed my tires, thanked my abused quick release for good measure, then headed for home. The weather had been bad, but not as terrible as two weeks before, so I considered it a fairly nice day except for the wind at the end. Now I had two weeks to get things fixed on the bike before my next official ride. I took a shot of my emergency repair job.
Notice the small hole to the upper right where the seat pivot bolt is MIA. Randy Schlitter of Rans Bicycles is sending me replacement parts for everything cracked, sheared, etc., so the bike should be better than new by next week. Now there's just the little matter of lining up some nice weather for the next ride...