It looks like Zach’s getting all buddy-buddy, but he’s actually preventing me from falling out the side of this shot.
To date, this is the longest one day ride I’ve done. I’ve had my eye on the Davis Double for a few years now and this year I finally pulled the trigger.
Days leading up to a bigger ride, I usually feel a little anxious and excited. I tend not to sleep quite as deep and this ride was no exception. The morning of the ride, I awoke at 2:45AM (a full hour before my alarm was set) and was wide awake. Time to roll.
I met with Zach, Quintin, Travis, and Tina of Mission Cycling and a couple of their friends Kelly and Theran at the start. I have all of these guys to thanks for making the ride really enjoyable. These guys were fantastic company.
In the past, the Davis Double was described to me as the easiest double century in the California Triple Crown series. The first third and final third of the ride are relatively flat with the concentration of climbing coming right in the middle. According to CTC’s site, there was about 8,400 feet of climbing. I had heard that the course was closer to 6,000 feet and taking a look at this site, I see that there are a couple doubles that have a little less climbing. But hey, who’s counting anyway?
The first leg of the ride started on a strange note. My cycling computer wasn’t registering anything and I was puzzled. It was early and dark out and I was awake, but not so alert. I had put on my front wheel backwards. Go figure. So that threw my mileage off for the rest of the ride which wasn’t so bad in the start, but my arithmetic slowly deteriorated as we closed in on 200.
The first section of the ride went by quickly and soon we were approaching the climbs. I had chatted with Kelly (who had ridden with Zach in the past) and he described Zach as a “billy goat.” I wasn’t really sure if that was a compliment or an insult, but once we hit the first inclines I knew what he meant. Like a blast of billy goat lightning *pew*, he was gone.
This brings me to a point. There comes a time in most of my longer rides where I’m usually hurting a little. Yesterday, I think I came up with a good way to describe the feeling. I call it the “aw, fuck it!” moment. Somewhere around mile 110 or so I was climbing up a hill and I could see Quintin up ahead in the distance. I could see the sweat beginning to bead in my forearms and I thought to myself if I can keep Quintin somewhere in my sights, I’m making good progress. Then I started to think, “I wonder if you spell Quintin’s name like the director Quentin…what’s his last name? Quen…quin…Quincy Jones. Wait, that’s not right. Quentin…Quinton “Rampage” Jackson. Ehh? Aw, fuck it!”
After finishing the final big push up Resurrection Hill, it was mostly downhill or flat for the remainder of the ride. I was feeling pretty good, but not so fresh in the legs. The guys recognized this and refused to leave me behind. They sheltered me back through the home stretch and like a godsend at around 20 miles from the finish a 6’10” guy joined our paceline.