The Devil Made Me Do It

Back in 1999 when I finished the TT, I had heard about the DMD, but it never occurred to me to attempt it.  Since it comes so early in the year, it seemed daunting to train for it, and I also was afraid of night riding.  For slower riders like me, the shorter days in April would necessitate some night riding for a hard double century like DMD.

How things have changed!  I equipped myself several years ago with a 1400-lumen Exposure Race handlebar-mounted light, a Light and Motion headlamp, a backup handlebar-mounted Cateye that can also strap onto my helmet, a 75-lumen taillight, and a motley assortment of reflective items.  A few years ago, I had ridden a couple of double centuries in the autumn, and I became comfortable with night riding.

Sherry Adams agreed to shepherd me on my maiden DMD voyage.  Sherry being Sherry met me at the corner of Deer Park and Silverado Trail in St Helena on the Friday afternoon before the DMD after a day of working (and riding her bike) somewhere near Howell Mountain.  Sherry showed up with all her necessary gear for the weekend stowed in her rando bag.  Incidentally, just my stash of electronics alone (lights, cords, transformers, spare batteries, Garmin, etc.) could have filled her rando bag.  I loaded her bike onto my car rack and off we went to the Marriott San Ramon.

Weather forecast for the DMD was favorable: mild winds and highs around 79 degrees.  Our 5AM mass start meant that riders would need their lights for about an hour in the morning. The faster riders could start at 6AM, no lights needed.  The Quackcyclists modified this year’s course to eliminate the portion along Morgan Territory Road and the return on infamous Sierra Road, due to road closures from the rainy winter.  As a result of the route change, the course dropped 8 miles and eliminated about 3000’ of climbing: DMD Lite.  Only 86 riders came to ride this year’s course.  For me, the drop in climbing was a bonus: the only way I could ever complete this ride is the year when they dumbed it down.  I’m hoping they don’t sell a 2017 jersey with an asterisk next to the ride stats.

A beautiful sunrise emerged from behind the silhouette of Mt. Diablo on what would be a perfect day for the ride.  Other than high winds at the top of Diablo, the remainder of the course was relatively calm and cool.  Veteran DMD riders commented on how comfortable the morning was on Mt Diablo; usually folks shivered down the Mt Diablo descent.

After the out-and-back on Diablo, we meandered along the flatlands of Livermore suburbia towards Altamont Pass.  A local rider came upon our small group of DMD riders and wanted to verify what our event tags meant.  He asked us if we really were riding 200 miles in a day.  After I confirmed this, he muttered something about his being an underachiever, using some self-deprecating term of “genetic garbage.”  I’m glad we made his day!  He peeled off as we approached Altamont Pass.  Who would’ve known that just north of Interstate 580, a quiet frontage road ran parallel to the freeway over a cul and down into the next valley?  We climbed with Manny D from Union City. Two other guys we rode with, Travis and a guy whose top tube was too short for him we dubbed Short Stem, were rather humorless.  (Rider names were written below the rider number.) They pretty much ignored Sherry and me, despite several overtures to engage them. 

I was relieved to arrive at the next rest stop (mile 64), as I worried about not having eaten enough at the previous rest stop at the top of Diablo.  A local Filipino cycling club, headed by Jerry, the elder of the Filipino cycling group, manned this rest station.  He and his buddies checked our bikes for us while we helped ourselves to fruit, bagels, PB&J, Hammer nutrition and bars.  Throughout the day, Jerry and his Filipino crew leapfrogged us to the following rest stop and offered us yummy homemade Filipino food: stir-fried noodles, fried rice and chicken adobo.

Normally, riders would be climbing the exposed Patterson Pass climb much later in the day, but by eliminating Morgan Territory Road, we approached the summit before noon.  Next was the 91-mile out-and-back up to Mt. Hamilton.  Along Mines Road, we passed somebody Sherry knew from the Silver State 508, another humorless one we dubbed “Big Hair.”   Sherry managed to get only one word out of Big Hair.  Mines Road seemed to continue for an uphill eternity until we reached the Junction Cafe rest stop.

Sherry and I unexpectedly ran into speedy Carl Sanders at The Junction.  Sherry correctly deduced that the only way this could’ve happened was that Carl was on his return leg through the rest stop, whereas we were on our outbound leg to Mt. Hamilton!   We rode 18 miles to arrive at the top of Mt Hamilton: an 8-mile stretch of uneven terrain preceding the true climb, 5 miles of gentle climbing, and a final 5 miles of serious climbing to summit at 4185’.

The top of Mt. Hamilton provided terrific views of the Bay Area, but we didn’t linger long since there was no food here.  During our return leg from Mt. Hamilton to The Junction rest stop, Sherry commented to me that she thought we would finish around midnight; I had been hoping for 10:30.  In her matter-of-fact way, she said that I burnt up a lot of time at the rest stops, so far using up 1 hr, 20 minutes of time off the bike.  Her prediction was that if I continued such inefficient behavior at rest stops, we might finish even later than midnight.  Well that lit a fire under my ass!  I swear that I wasted a good 5-10 minutes at each rest stop just waiting for dudes to do their business in the single porta-potty that each rest stop had.  Not my fault...waaah!

Along Mines Road we picked up Andrew, a San Franciscan with a British accent.  We descended down Mines Road in the dusk, still having enough ambient light to feel comfortable descending briskly.   At the Mines Road rest stop (mile 165), I choked down a Cup o’ Noodles while Sherry patiently waited.  Then it was onward to the next rest stop in 21 miles.  When you’re tired and not thrilled about riding late into the night, what to do?  Laugh and gossip!  Sherry wins Shepherd of the Year: she always pulled, pacing me perfectly.  She hardly needed to work when climbing at my speed so she belted out some songs:  Rolling on the River, Say hey, we’re the Monkeys (even laconic Andrew chimed in), Good Day Sunshine.  We laughed at our social faux pas (Is that guy’s name really Dung?  I’ve been calling him that the entire ride!), and poked fun at Short Stem, Big Hair, Team Travis and Genetic Garbage.  After the final rest stop at mile 186 and just a little climb up Norris Canyon, we rolled in at 11:15. 

Total ride time: 16 hr 15 min.  Time off the bike 2 hours.