What a beautiful morning for the Desperado Dual. The eastward glow is getting brighter as time passes. I am already near the gathering point for the beginning of this ride. Start time is 6:30 for those daring to attempt the 200 mile option today. However, a group of friends from the Red Mountain Brumbys are here riding the century and they are heading out at the same time. What a privilege to be with them.
The sheriff's vehicle takes us east and then south to the 89/12 junction which leads to Bryce Canyon. The vehicle ensures we have a safe crossing of lanes to Hwy 12 and leaves the riders to their own fate. The air is crisp and the wind calm. The soft pink glow begins to warm the sky to a molten orange as we approach the climb into Bryce.
There is a lead group that is beginning to break away after the transition to the bike path and my dilemma sets in, stay with the group or hang with the Brumby's, whose jersey I'm sporting. Sterling (Brumby CRO, chief riding officer) said, "Go ahead." Thank you, I didn't feel as bad. We continued to climb and then had a short fast descent to the next turnoff. There were about 18 or so in our peloton and we pushed through John's Canyon heading north at a good clip of 27 or so.
At mile 57, in a little town called Antimony, there was a rest stop and I needed to refill on fluid and hit the john. Seeing others headed to the port a potty, I figured the line would go down after I took care of re-stocking. The line did go down and when I came out, everyone was gone. Just what I wanted to avoid, being on my own for the rest of the first half with the likely hood of facing headwinds in about 20 miles. I can either sit and stew about it or move on. After saddling up, there are two about a mile ahead. I pushed a bit to see if I could catch them, but they were cycling through their rotations to keep a strong pace. Backing off, I settled into a comfortable rhythm, thinking of where my friends might be.
This next section of the course, to rest stop 3, was uneventful. I could still see the two ahead of me, surprisingly, about the same distance and was hoping to catch them at the upcoming stop (abt mile 80). Nothing doing, they either did not stop or made it very brief. Upon asking, I was told they were about 3-5 min ahead. Another refuel and I was off. It now became a mental test. The reviews indicated that this last leg of the first 107 miles was tough because of the head winds. I had to throw out my preconceived ideas about a good time on this loop. For a point of reference, our peloton made the second rest stop at mile 57 in about 2:40.
Pushing on in a saddened sort of way, the time passed as if out of a dream. It sure seemed to take forever to meander through the little canyon south and west of Circleville which eventually opens up into the valley where Panguitch lay at the south end. Although the winds are noticeable, they aren't harsh. It's getting closer, just keep moving. Finally, a group comes along and they pass me before I can make a move to catch on. My decision not to press here, in hind sight, may have been a good one. Finally, about a mile outside of town. The flag was whipping, showing it's colors in full glory to those east and west of where it stood. The winds have finally kicked in and it was slow going to make it the last mile to the start.
Thanks to the organizers and volunteers who provided lunch. It was a much needed break and it sure feels good to sit down. Amazingly, I timed in at a 5:02. That can't be, I was too slow the last 50 miles. The sandwich was yummy and the beverages refreshing. Do I really need to do another 100? Maybe I can find others to group with. Some were going, others who originally signed up were opting out, but no one is leaving right now. I wondered how Sterling, Fred, Richard, Jim, Charles and the others are doing. Are they here yet, I don't see them. My mind could only think how long the second loop would be and that I want it to be over. To be over, you need to go and it has already been 45 minutes.
The winds did not die down after lunch. The first couple of blocks were great, they were flat. But anyone who has been to Panguitch and ever noticed a road gently climbing up the hill to the south has seen the beginning of the second loop. I must be stupid for paying to make this climb into the wind. By the way, it wasn't one of those 3-5 mph breezes, it was closer to 8-12 with gusts higher at the top. Several minutes into it, a group of two passed me. Then a couple more passed and I thought, can't you even hang with them?
Hang I didn't, but over the course of the climb, they were eventually passed. Two of them contemplated turning around as we were chatting at a water stop next to white capped Panguitch Lake. Hills must be respected. Sure there are some naturals who can bounce up them like a mountain goat, but it must be put into perspective. You are you, you must know your limitations and work within them. Be consistent, be persistent and you will finish, maybe not in your time frame.
The climbing never seemed to end. Finally, a full rest stop which marked the highest point of the course. Free at last. A nice refill and a wonderful chat with the volunteers and it was time to speed down the mountain. Somebody awoke me from the dream because no sooner did that end and another climb presented itself. Where did this come from? It's probably just a little hill, define little. A couple of miles and 6-8% later I'm a couple hundred feet under the elevaion of the feed zone I just left. Okay, that has to be it. Another semi-quick descent, oh, and to my surprise another climb, not as intent as the last but easily as long and it puts me a few hundred feet shy of the last one. The wind has never stopped by the way.
I crest to a plateau where the wind is howling. Ya, it's flat, but it feels just like a climb. My pace is approx 15. Where is that nice long downhill I've been longing for? Can someone stop the wind? What seemed like forever had finally come, Hwy 14. This tells me I'm getting closer, to what I had no idea. There were a few more descents, but the road was rough and the heavy cross wind made it not so refreshing. This is ridiculous. After about a mile in descend mode, I was at the intersection of 14 and 89, Todd's Jct. I could turn left here instead of right and cut out 17 miles because turning right puts me back into the face of the tormenting wind.
My speed only slowed down enough to make the turn safely, to Afton. Forever in my memory would lie the decision to cut short a part of the course which I set a goal to conquer and to have me become a better cyclist, had I opted left. While heading south, I saw three heading north, wishing I had already completed that part of the journey. Soon, I took the left turn from 89 toward Afton and was quickly joined by the fellows I left at the water station next to Panguitch Lake. Some light chatting and a few rollers and the next feed station presented itself.
Knowing you have to do something, that you really don't want to do, despite being tired, dirty and out of the wind, is loathsome. You must press on. The three of us headed back out. One was having a difficult time pushing up the hills and because we weren't organized, I had no ill thoughts of moving on. In short order, I returned to Todd's Junction (Hwys 14 & 89) with only 27 miles to go. Most of it, 85% or so, was downhill and the wind was to my back. It is time to get this over with.
The exit from the junction was sweet, the speed climbed to over 35 and set the course for the final leg. I settled into a pace of 24-25 and gave myself some needed breaks backing off to 21 or so. What a blessing the wind had become. I was now passing through the town of Hatch, 15 miles from Panguitch. A quick refill and a washing of the face left me with some renewed zeal. Minutes later, the odometer and mileage markers gave me ten miles to go. Pace is good, no one is within a mile, press on. The countdown began with each passing marker, 10, 9, 8 etc. Finally, the 89/12 Jct to Bryce. 7, 6, 5 ,4, 3 - the last hill and turn west into town. Another hefty cross wind. Settle back into a smooth pace; only a couple of miles to finish. Finally, the welcome sign, a turn right, a turn left, couple of blocks to go. One final left and the finish line is there. A voice calls out as I cross, 12:04. I thought, "That is disappointing." But, I am relieved that it is over; an accomplishment nontheless, 198 miles with 8,000 feet of climbing.
The gentleman says something so I circle back around to the other side of the line and he hands me a bag saying, "Congratulations, you finished 10th overall." I about fell over, not from the news, but because I couldn't stand. What a treat. Here come the other two who were with me at the last stop. That memento now serves as my cycling maintenance bag.
While winding down and analyzing the day over dinner, many positives came from such a grueling, relentless day: outside of stoppage time, my actual ride time was remarkably 10:15; two-thirds of all the climbing was completed in the second half, most into the wind; 141 miles was on my own. You can complete a 200 mile ride by understanding yourself, trusting your abilities and staying consistent. For some reason, it all began to make sense.
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