1 June Day 3 - Lake McSwain - Oakhurst: 92.6 km @13.8 km/h
There is a correlation between my average speed and degree of difficulty. Although Day 2 was 140 km, I was able to average 21.1 km/h since a lot of it was flat. This was the day when I hit the foothills of the Sierra and my speed reflects it. I had over 7 h of cycling time which was the worst I have ever had.
Throughout the day I was reminded of Nitzsche's saying 'that which does not kill you will make you stronger'. I don't know how I made it through the day.
It started off at 360' ASL (sorry, along with such notables as Burma the USA still follows the Imperial units) and immediately started climbing. I was shortly joined by Jim, a vet from Turlock who was out for a 100 km cycle. He as much lighter laden than I was and condescended to chug along at my speed while we chatted. That is one of the great things about cycling in the USA-everyone is so friendly. When Lis and I cycled in Europe hardly anyone spoke with us.
The road went up and up and after a while Jim zoomed off. After ascending probably about 1000' I was depressed to see that I was about to descend the same amount. This was followed by more up and downs. I would love to have a topogaphic map and work out what I covered that day vertically since that was how it was ALL DAY.
I took the 'Old Toll Road' which is what Jim recommended. The surface was shocking. A quiltwork of patches, many of them bad. I don't know why they bother. Actually, that was the first poor road of the trip and mostly I've been on nice smooth asphaltic concrete. Very pleasant. This road went up and up and since there was hardly any traffic I stopped and removed my helmet. It was also stinking hot. After about an hour of going uphill I reached the crest, and descended the same amount into another valley. How soul destroying. I was surprised to come around a corner in the valley and see someone standing in the middle of a bridge pointing a gun at me. Great! I'll be put out of my misery I thought, but it was a woman surveyor using a Laser Atlanta electronic distance instrument-the same one we use with ROMDAS. I stopped to ask her what she was doing and she said they were replacing the bridge. 'Why when there is no traffic?' I asked. Oh, there are lots of trucks she said, haven't you noticed it. No. In fact one thing cyclists notice are trucks of any shape and size. I'd estimate this road had about 100 veh/day so obviously economics doesn't play much of a role here.
I was probably back at 360' again for I had a long ride up the hill to Mt Bullion which was at 2176'. It was then up and down to Mariposa where I filled my water bottles at the tourist information centre before heading downtown to find some food. Eventually decided on a Pizza parlour which had a salad bar. I ordered a mini pizza, which was enough for 2 (the small was the size of an NZ large and the large you could feed 10 with) and an all you can eat salad. This was excellent and it quickly filled the hole. The pizza was slow and then was swimming in cheese so I didn't finish it and continued on.
If the morning was bad, the afternoon was worse. It reminded me of Lis' dreams where she is running away but never gets anywhere. The hills seemed to go up for an eternity, like the 3.5 km 8% grade out of Mariposa. On the map it was deceiving since the next town, Bootjack, was only 100' higher than Mariposa, but to get there one ascended this killer grade, went down a similar length, up another, down another, etc. That which does not kill you makes you stronger ... right.
When I got to Bootjack I called the Muirs who were expecting me that night to alert them to the fact that I might not make it. As we were talking I noticed a thermometer which showed it was 28 degrees C (why it wasn't in Farenheit I don't know) in the shade. Hmmmmm. Perhaps that was why I was finding it extra tough going. Bought some Gatoade to replenish my electrolites - I was concerned about the distinct white salt rings on my clothes and soldiered on. More up and downs, but the best was saved for last. As I ascended one hill I saw a grade going off into the distance as far as I could see. Real character building. I measured the distance and it was 4.5 km long and about 8-9%. Took me 45 minutes to climb it. Coming after travelling about 70 km it was not what I needed. The photo below doesn't do it justice. Coming down the other side was exhilirating and I saw that the valley was widening out. There was some hope.
A van passed me and honked before pulling over. I stopped and out popped Pr. Wellesley Muir. He had come out to see how I was doing and to offer me help if needed. Very kind of him. After ascertaining that it was only about 15 km more I decided to soldier on to his place. There were still lots of grades, but they were only about 500 m maximum in length which was bearable.
Following his excellent directions I made my way through Oakhurst and onto the road leading to their place. Of couse it was -- uphill. After 1 km I was getting in a bad mood and at around 2 km was ready to just drive into the ditch and surrender to the gods of grades, but fortunately the next road led to their house and I was able to arrive. After pushing my bike UP their incredibly steep driveway. I looked a sight but they were most welcoming and we had a great supper of fruit and toast before I hit the shower and bed. For those who have the pleasure of knowing them they haven't changed much since Bangkok. Here they are.
And so I'd finished my first week of cycling. Like most cycle trips, the first week is the worst and although I had traveled about 320 km in three days I felt pretty good about things--despite the last day. My knees and achilles tendon weren't too sore and even my bum wasn't too bad. I was pleasantly surprised, especially when you consider what I'd been through. The photo below shows something of what the terrain was like, and I seem to have crossed many of those hills.
