Day two is done, and boy, what were we thinking. I remember Carter sending me the route after he had laid it out; the phone conversation went something like this,
“Did you take a look at the route”, Carter practically screamed into the phone.
“Jesus Carter, I’m pretty busy”, I said, exasperation dripping in my voice, “hold on a second while I open it up.”
“Is it open yet?” he asked – the sound of a kid at Christmas in his voice.
“It looks good, is there a lot of climbing?” I ask, clearly indicating that I had not even opened it up.
“About 6500’ all together”, he replied – his voice now showing the first sign of despair at my reaction.
“Add some more – I feel pretty strong, and I want Bobbo to suffer”, was my final input – right before I said, “gotta go, there’s an episode of Magnum P.I. that I’ve only seen twice, don’t want to 
miss it”
Carter, being the idiot savant of the Map my Ride world took me at my word. He went back to the course, added another dozen climbs – no doubt with an evil cackle emitting from his lips with every key stroke.
The problem with tackling the route from the comfort of your computer screen is that it fails to capture the true torture that we all be suffering by the fifth hour on the road. He has at least ten new nicknames this afternoon – none of which can be printed here, even Wayne “the nicest guy in the world” Centrone rolled up to the van, having vomited multiple times on poor Mike Peterson, and screamed a solid two minutes of gutter language that would make a New Jersey dock worker blush with shame.
Luckily, we missed one of the two thou
sand turns along the way, which enabled us to cut a few miles off. I’m sure this was the only reason anyone was able to complete the darn thing. Though, honestly, I wouldn’t swear to the “missing” of the turn – I was on the front at the time, and have to admit that I had a few new names for Carter as well.
Hard or not, the course was beautiful, each day I expect to find somewhere that is just ho-hum, not so far. The highlight today was the Kings Ridge segment. This is widely regarded as one of the classic climbs in the state – and for good reason. It is also possibly the hardest climb I have ever done. Scott and Greg set a pace that was impossible for the mere mortals to stay with, so the rest of us just tried to cut our losses and gut it out. After about 40 minutes of hard riding, we reached what was at least thought of as the top – though the non-stop up and down of the ridgeline made this a charitable description at best. Our two hard men of the mountains had stopped under a tree to wait for the few of us who were still within the same zip code, as I rolled up, the first question was “where are we meeting the van?”
For those of you with kids, you’ll be able to picture my attempt at deflecting the question, “I don’t know”, “I didn’t do it”, and “its Carter’s fault” was the best that I could come up with. As the others began to arrive – all with the same harsh look in their eyes, and empty water bottles on their bikes, I realized I was a little outnumbered. As they began to look at me with a glare that told me all they were seeing was a mirage of an ice cold Hinagan – after all, life is short and we need to live it well, my friends – I figured I needed to call for help. Finally reaching Carter, Axe and Matt, who I’m sure were in the only bar within 100 miles, cold drinks and bowls of peanuts scattered before the
m, they told me they would be up to us in fifteen minutes – the longest fifteen minutes of my life.
Finally fueled and friendly again, off we rode – still more than half the ride to go – yikes!
Not to worry, everything eventually ends, and today’s ride was no different. To make up for the pain, Carter had fifteen pizzas ordered for Hobbit dinner – like Napoleon’s army, the ToP travels on their stomach. Even the grumpiest can be soothed.
So now for the awarding of the black jersey wi
nner - today it went to Mike Peterson. Not only did he come back from the dead after yesterday’s ride, but he put up with wearing Wayne’s lunch and showed some pretty good spirit in doing so. Well done Mike!
After day two, current standings are:
Yellow Jersey – really a split between Andrew and Greg from yesterday’s performance, but just edged out by Scott Duncan (who is also the oldest rider in the group – I think I may hate him).
Red Jersey is clearly Scott’s.
Green Jersey is still firmly in the grasp of Andrew, though Rick Strauss finally got on the boards with a late day comeback to take today’s stage in a knockdown, drag out sprint with Mike Armbruster.
Tune in tomorrow to see if we have decided to hang Carter form the Santa Rosa town center.
- Today’s stage – out and back from Bodega Bay
- 96.8 miles with 7920 feet of climbing
- Total for the trip: 185.3 miles, with 14,390 feet of climbing
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