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As we drove to Death Valley down the central valley an incoming email buzzed my iPhone. It was from AdventureCORPs. Prediction for the weekend was for near freezing conditions and possibly rain and snow. The email began with “I’m not trying to scare anyone…” But we were scared. We signed up for this ride as a way to motivate us to continue riding though the winter, but still we struggled with the weather. It remains somewhat a mystery how you ride and stay warm, dry and comfortable. But we had overcoming things which previously scared us though: we could now set out in the rain and not be totally in fear. While we’d come a ways, a bad weather century ride was something we weren’t fully prepared for, mentally or physically.

My fitness on the bike seemed to have come around so I was looking forward to a fast ride. We did a couple of 70+ mile rides and a collection of 50 mile rides. In our last ride we threw in a climb at the half way mark that set a new 30 min power record for me (one not on a trainer at least), and that was after hours of riding. That’s not to say I’ve suddenly become a great cyclist, but signs we there that we’d improved. I felt ready for anything. Well anything except bad weather.

Death Valley is one of our favorite places. It’s also the scene of most of our great outdoor disasters. The place has a way to take a toll on man and his equipment. There was the time when we ripped two 4WD tires apart up some jeep trail and ended up dragging the backend of the car miles, followed by hitchhiking through the night. I still think of that trip fondly, especially the part where it also started to snow. Another time a storm came though so hard it broke a pole on our 4 season tent and launched it way up a canyon, completely destroying it. That was fun too.

Thursday night we camped up Echo Canyon, the same place as the tent disaster. It’s a beautiful place when it’s not destroying things. Behind you is a slot canyon that you can drive up to reach a set of mine ruins to explore. In front of you the scene drops 1600ft to the Death Valley floor and then rises 11,000 ft up into the snow covered Panamint range.

Friday morning started still. The sun rise hit the mountains cycling them through a range of pinks and purples and oranges. Even Kelly enjoyed the view. Later in the morning, with Kelly’s Grandfather (Patty’s father) in tow, we headed up the canyon to check out the mines.

In the afternoon we drove the course to check out the climb and by evening the wind had really picked up, especially at Furnace Creek. By the time we headed over for the AdventureCORPs Yoga the wind was blowing so hard it was difficult to even walk in the RV park. All you could do was laugh it was blowing so hard. We knew they’d run the ride regardless, but we couldn’t imagine riding in that kind of wind. The Yoga turned out to be fun though as we huddled in the shelter behind the buildings there and the event organizer led us through a yoga routine yelling above the wind.

Instead of camping we cleared out the back of the car and slept in there parked in the same site as Patty’s parents. It wasn’t the best nights sleep listening to the wind and feeling the car being buffeted around. Hope for even going for a ride was fading but the morning brought workable weather, it seemed. It wasn’t too cold, it wasn’t raining or snowing and the wind was nothing like the night before. The ride was a go and optimism filled the air.

Furnace Creek to Badwater

Distance: 17.3 miles
Time: 1hrs 52min
Power: 156 avg, 169 NP (graph)

The second wave was ready to head off as we circled behind the group so we decided to head off with them. The pace was easy as we headed uphill from Furnace Creek towards the intersection with Badwater Rd. I was feeling the pace was a little too easy and went by a few people with Patty following behind me.

As we reached the top we turned towards Badwater, about 17 miles away. I instinctively changed up to my big ring and thought we’d be off but I then noticed a problem. We’d just turned into a stiff headwind. The usual still mornings in Death Valley were not working that way this morning. The wind was blowing strong from the South and the next 40 or so miles of the course were directly down the valley, south, with no shelter. Just one big wind tunnel. Of course it took a while to think in those terms, for the moment I changed back down gears and started to slog it out.

We were averaging about 10 miles per hour. Long gradual climbs became 6 mile/hr 200+ watts. It was equivalent in effort to real climbing but yet they looked almost flat. Wind is the unseen enemy. Finally a top would appear and I’d barely change out of my lowest gear as I pushed on down the hill at maybe 11 or 12 miles/hr.

At 1 hour in Patty and I stopped and ate a Gu each. Patty was having trouble drinking because she needed both hands on her handlebars in order to not be thrown off into the desert as the wind shifted around. She took in a little fluid and I was glad for my aero bottle although I was having trouble being on the aerobars in the wind as well. Here we ran into Patty’s father and Kelly for the first time. They asked if we were ok, beginning a trend of theirs of turning up while we were stopped somewhere. We handed off our warm gloves since the cold wasn’t going to be our problem today at least.

Occasionally we’d be overtaken by some riders from the third wave. One group went by in a pace line and while I couldn’t catch the back of them the trailing riders seemed to be getting a good break. I had nobody ahead of me to break the wind and it was brutal. One guy who went by chatted for a bit. We agreed how demoralizing making such slow progress was. Moving forward like that, with vast distances ahead in the wide open desert floor and making 10 miles/hr progress was hard to weigh against how far we had to ride. It seemed hard to imaging pushing into the wind for more than 40 miles, then doing the climb, and then riding back. Even the thought of the returning tailwind didn’t make it seem possible, we wouldn’t even make the cutoffs. How many hours till the turnaround? Five? Six? Instead of that I found comfort in my power meter. I settled on trying to ride around 150 watts, keeping under 200 for the tough bits, figuring I had a long way ahead of me. The most important thing was that I could see I was doing something as the miles came so slow.

I pulled into Badwater a few minutes ahead of Patty. Nobody there seemed to know what the deal was with the cutoffs. We were already an hour late and the day was young. We ate a little food but forgot to fill our water bottles. In my mind I’d not recalibrated the next aid station distance to take into account the slow speed we were moving at.

Badwater to Ashford Mills

Distance: 27.4 miles
Time: 3hrs 50min
Power: 136 avg, 148 NP (graph)

Back on the road and it was more of the same. I slowly pushed myself past a guy and said “are we having fun yet?” “Oh God Yes!” he replied. Patty told me she’d decided to make it a metric century and turn back at 30 miles, or the mile 29 mile marker along the road. I told her to sit behind me and I’d pull her, but it didn’t help, she fell off my back wheel and was gone again. The people on the course were now quite spread out, but usually I could see someone a ways ahead. The vastness was a little overwhelming, such a small bike in such a big place, in such awful conditions. I saw little choice but to keep pushing forward. The road through this section was more or less flat, but would wander out towards the center of the valley and back following the coast line of the ancient lake. The wind grew worse out the further towards the center of the valley you got, or was plagued with cross winds, and at times I was barely moving. For a moment I actually longed to be closer to the valley’s side walls for the ‘relief’ of a steady 20 miles/hr straight-into-the-face wind to deal with.

I stopped a couple of times to wait for Patty, once a little before the mile 29 marker and then again at the marker. Eventually she came into view and looked broken. She was ready to go back but I decided I would keep going at least until the Ashford Mills aid station. The assumption was, of course, that the ride back wouldn’t be so bad. I’d come a long way to ride and complete this century, and trained all winter. That’s a lot of traffic lights on the road out of Danville, freezing mornings where we hardly saw another cyclist all day, my awesome run of flat tires… We’d convinced Patty’s parents to drive down there and look after our daughter so we could do this. I wasn’t feeling like giving up even though I knew deep down all my energy was blowing away in the wind and I may not have it in me to get back. This was uncharted territory for my endurance.

We said good bye with a hug and we headed in different directions. Back to my 150-160 watts, back to very slow progress. I started to pass some people, clearly anyone around me was starting to fade. I ran out of water too as hours went by. And running out of liquid also meant I was not getting the calories I was counting on but I wasn’t thinking too clearly either because I could have compensated with the Gus I was carrying. My heart rate was also up though this section as the terrain became more hilly and my vision was vaguely blurry.

Eventually I rode into Ashford Mills, almost 4 hours after leaving Badwater, and was seriously close to being done.

Expensive bikes and people lay on the ground not moving anywhere. Nobody’s race wheels were helping them too much today but there sure was some good looking bikes lying in the sand. Patty’s father and Kelly turned up just after I arrived. They said Patty had ‘flown’ back to Badwater on the tail wind. That sounded good, perhaps I could do this. My spirits lifted. Then again I was beat and still had a 1300ft climb to do before even the turnaround. Kelly said I should do it. After they left I decided to give it a try.

Climb to Jubilee Pass and back to Ashford Mills

Distance: 12.6 miles
Time: 1hr 15min
Power: 120 avg, 159 NP (the climb was 168 avg, 177 NP) (graph)

As I headed out the wind was actually still for the first time as the 6% climb ran perpendicular to the valley. It wasn’t as bad as I imagined it, averaging about 180 watts in my lowest gear. Unlike the wind I could see my goal and measure my energy against the visible obstacle. Interestingly, it really didn’t feel too much worse on my legs than the previous 5 hours and it was quite easy to settle in. I stopped a couple of times because I thought it seemed like a good idea to take it a little conservatively, but before long I reached the top. I felt a moment of victory. I’d been on the bike so long, but was only at the 52 mile turnaround. It was 1:30pm, over 6.5 hours after the start and over 5.5 hours of ride time.

The organizer took my bib number and a photo of me. He thanked me for coming so far out on the course. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, probably that I should have given up long ago. I took a moment, clipped in, and headed back down the hill. There was a certain amount of head wind on the descent but I mostly coasted to save energy and regretted giving my Jacket to Patty’s parents. It was cold, but the scenery was was worth the climb as I looked down into the valley and the clouds and light moving in across the mountains. I still wasn’t sure I had another 50 miles in me, 40 by the time I got back down to Ashford Mills, but if the weather cooperated I might make it back before the 10 hour cutoff.

Back at Ashford Mills I grabbed food, some water and used the port-a-potty, but didn’t stay long this time, I needed to get moving. As I clipped in the aid station people were talking over the radio, asking if it was raining at furnace creek. No, they said, it was dust, and the wind was coming from the north. THE NORTH??!! A grown went though the aid station. I was looking a 40 miles of riding north to get back to Furnace Creek. My response? Denial. I peddled off.

Ashford Mills to the end

Distance: 13.2 miles
Time: 1hr 03min
Power: 124 avg, 143 NP (graph)

For the next six miles I flew, carried along by a glorious tailwind. I sat at 20-24 miles/hr on the flats, 30+ mile/hr on the downhills without even pushing hard. I remembered for a moment that biking could be fun. I started to think I’d be back in a couple of hours at this rate and that my decision to continue to the turn around point was the right one. Life was good. But that was crazy thinking and altogether short lived. Up the valley the salt flats and sky ominously merged into a dark wall that looked a like a mix of rain and dust, maybe. Still, I hoped I could get somewhere near to Furnace Creek before I hit that or any wind change.

It was not to be. Within a moment my tail wind turned to head wind. It was like hitting a wall. I was still 35 miles out and my speed was down to 6 miles/hr and power back over 160 watts. I was a little surprised that my trashed legs were still cooperating, but it didn’t make it any easier. All that energy going into the pedals and 6 miles/hr coming out. I had my head down watching the white line, I watched little pebbles come by so slowly, one painful pedal stroke after another. Then I’d look up at the vast expanse ahead and feel crushed. It was a mental game and in this section I was losing.

My carbopro mix was also a little messed up so I stopped for a moment and poured some of it out and mixed it down with water. It gave me a moment to stand there and contemplate what I was going to do. Make it to Badwater, then hope I could get a headlamp from someone? Hope Patty came looking for me? Sit down right here and cry? All valid options. Shortly after that a strong looking rider came by me, slowly. I said hi but he didn’t say anything back. I though he might be just unfriendly but I now think he was just too deep in his own misery. In my mind I imagined every one else doing so well, cutting though the wind with effortless ease, success being the only option. Most of them were already back at Furnace creek celebrating a fine day out.

When Badwater seemed too far away I refocused on getting to the 29 mile marker (30 miles from the finish) where Patty and I had said goodbye. Some part of me expected she’d still be there and the idea gave me a little comfort.

I neither made it to Badwater nor even the mile 29 marker. In the end some riders ahead of me waved down the Timing company’s pickup truck and started to load their bikes in the back. I rode towards them but didn’t hurry. I wasn’t sure what to do and was hoping it would drive away so I didn’t have to think about it. The strong looking guy also pulled over and started to load his bike on too. I guess a way home had just handed itself to me and it seemed the obvious thing to take the ride too. I was 71 miles into my ride and my day was done.

The scene back to Furnace Creek was devastation. The organizers were sending out SAG vehicles to collect people and random cars were also bringing riders back home. We were full but riders tried to wave us down. Those still moving were all over the road, not caring. People had stopped in the middle of nowhere and just sat down with their bikes unable to go on. Others were slumped over their handlebars. Many riders had already left the course. Many had called an end to it at Badwater, the scene there was littered with riders who couldn’t make it back the final 18 miles.

In the end the majority of the 400 who signed up DNFd (or DNS.) The results show about 100 finishers in all the distances out of the 400 entrants. What I didn’t know was that the organizers extended the cutoffs so people who finished into the night got an official time. My assumption was that I wouldn’t get a time and be recognized as a finisher even if I made it back and that certainly weighed into my decision to take a ride. If the original 5pm time had still applied only about 20 riders of the century would have finished.

Hats off to anyone who made it back though and the amazing ultra-century and double century riders who finished on such a rough day.

Patty and I eventually reunited after she failed to find me on the course. She had not made it back to the finish line either having hit the wind direction change earlier in the day just past Badwater. After struggling for a while her parents came by and she called it a day and took the ride back with them. She was 50 miles into her ride.

Overall stats

Distance: 71.14 miles
Time: 6hrs 59min (8hrs 13 min total)
Power: 136 watts avg, 354 watts max, 156 watts NP
Graph: HR, Power, Speed vs Time
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We didn’t hang out long, just enough time to get some pizza. The weather had become drizzly and night was coming. We left and drove out of the park and through to Ridgecrest for the night then home the next day. All in all it was sort of a disaster and an adventure at the same time. I’ve clearly arrived at a better level of endurance but still, after training all winter we were disappointed at how the day played out and that we couldn’t have made it through the whole course together.

Biking, Death Valley camping, century, cycling, Death Valley, Wind