Epic Rides

I've watched with amazement as the pro peloton battles through heat, rain, cold and other terrible riding conditions. Mud-caked riders in Paris-Roubaix and the Tour of Flanders are the ultimate men's men. As a southern California rider, I'm fortunate to have relatively pleasant riding weather 350 days a year. When the weather turns ugly I ride comfortably indoors on my CompuTrainer.

Yesterday I was determined to go on a long outdoor ride, even though the forecast called for some light rain. How bad could some light rain be, after all? I was joined by a few riding buddies at 7am and we rolled out for a 50 mile ride. About 15 miles into our ride, the light rain started to fall. Then it turned to heavy rain. We pushed on.

At the base of our day's climb--an 8 mile climb averaging about a 6% grade--the rain let up a little. We headed up the mountain. I tend to climb a little bit faster than the rest of the guys, so I was soon on my own. The agreement was that when I hit the top I would turn around and descend, picking up the others who would turn around and come down with me.

I was making very good time going up. It was a little cold, but I felt good. When I hit the top and turned around I found out why. I had been riding with a tail wind. Now that cold wind was right in my face. And it started raining hard.

My nice new Trek Madone came with deep carbon rims that look really sporty. They are not the choice for descending in the wind and rain. The cork brakes were useless when wet. The rear brake barely had any stopping power at all. The wind pushed my bike around the road. My hands and feet were numb despite my cold weather gear. I was soaked through. One-by-one I passed the other riders and they turned to join me.

That 8-mile descent felt like the longest of my life. I pumped the brakes constantly to keep my speed down to about 12mph for fear of picking up too much speed and being unable to slow down through a turn. My legs were shaking from the cold.

When we hit the bottom, all of us were trembling. Isn't this how hypothermia starts? We needed to get somewhere warm.

Thankfully, there really is a Starbucks on almost every block.

A few miles away we found one, and were quickly shedding rain-soaked gloves and jackets, and sucking up hot cafe lattes. My buddy's hands were shaking so bad he dropped his coffee on the floor. We were quite a motley looking group.

Outside, the sun was poking through the clouds. Every ray of sunshine felt magical, warming our skin and drying out our clothes. Finally, it was time to get back on the bikes and get going. As a final bit of insult, the wind was in our faces all the way home. But a little wind was a welcome trade for rain and cold.

I will forever watch the pros race through rain and cold with a newfound respect and awe. I can say there is nothing romantic about it--it is just plain hard work.

The final tally: 4 tired riders, 2 dead iPhones, 1 flat tire.