Death Ride 2011

[Carl Sanders]

Nice to come home in 'Peace'.

The delictible calm and deep satisfaction of surviving a day at risk leads to the best kind of tranquility.

Death Ride Report:

Never ridden with 3,500 people before. Damn strange kinda happening with riders heading out on the course as early as 3:30 AM.

 

Slept poorly by the roadside. Sleeping bag soaking wet from heavy dew. Awoke at 4 AM. Brewed coffee on the whisper light. Bright ball of flame priming the stove attracts the local Sheriff, warning 'you boys be careful there'.

No official start time, just cut-off times at each checkpoint.  Mark and I suited up, and start rolling by 5:15 AM with this mass of ever-growing shivering riders, coasting off into the dark.

 

Three passes; Monitor, Ebbetts and Carson; up and over each, than back again. 129 miles. 15K in climbing. Amazing Sierra Nevada countryside; eastern desert sage, high alpine passes and near full road closures. Wicked sick fast descents. Smooth, clean pavement. Supportive crowds. Ample supplies at each rest stop. Total community support. The roads had even been swept clear by the County highway crews! 

 

Then, there were the rad chicks in colorfull skirts, bunny ears, leopard skin kits and one even covered in glitter. All too good.

 

Couldn't resist the temptation to work my way forward on each climb, past the seething mass of slow rolling lycra; some sort of disease, some compulsion to chase when riders still remain out front. 'Not a race' I reminded myself. Still, I kept driving forward, finishing somewhere in the top 40 at the top of Carson Pass. Very fun.

 

Interesting folks of all colors, ages and sorts on the course riding for all kinds of reasons on lots of strange bikes; fixies, olipticals, tandems, mountain, recumbant and big dollar carbon builds.

Some, I imagine ride just to finish. Others, to honor the memory of passed family and friends. A few have made it a annual pilgramige for years. For many, the ride becomes a measure of their own mortality, a journey to their edge and back. The intensity and drive in the faces of a thousand of riders grinding methodically away at each climb is powerful stuff.   

Another fascinating sub-culture of endurance junkies within the cycling world.

 

One more for next year.