Santa Cruz Hellride 2
Hellride 2
8/13/2005
Downieville, CA
Mr. Weir had no more patience for pictures and chitchat, it was time to ride. We shoved off from the Yuba Expeditions bike shop in downtown Downieville for the start of a ride that was to be a test of my stamina, skills and grit. The goal was to merely finish this ride and the reward was the shiny red bike I was riding.
Hellride 2 was a creation of Santa Cruz Bicycles to promote their new bike, the Nomad. The basic premise is for two riders to attempt to hang with two of the Santa Cruz sponsored pro riders on an epic ride that would not only show off what this new bike was capable of, but also would push the riders to their limits in order to win a free bike. Rae Gandolf was chosen to ride with Marla Streb and I was chosen to ride with Mark Weir. Santa Cruz took care of all the accommodations; all we had to do was show up and ride. Easier said than done.
Mark & I headed off on the first leg of the ride along with DanO and Henry O. Most people heading up the 5000 ft climb to Packer Saddle from Yuba Expeditions do so in one of the shuttle vans with thoughts of carving one of the many downhill runs that begin from up there…but not us. We turned off the paved road about 6 miles outside of town and started up the 14 mile dirt road climb. It wasn’t long before I was alone.
Nice first impression huh? I get dropped on the first climb and barely a mile in. After I ran through my list of excuses in my head: new bike position, it’s heavier than my usual ride, the 150 ounces of water I was carrying and that dang 38 tooth chain ring…and the only chain ring…I sucked it up and set about keeping a good pace. The one excuse I could not use was pedal bob. There was none to speak of and with all that suspension under me that is impressive. It took nearly two hours to reach the top, but as I did I caught onto the back of the group again. It turns out Henry O started a bit too fast.
With a fast, but short-lived descent we headed toward the Lakes Basin area. We hit a few big rollers with some rather technical descents, and the Nomad just ate them up. I began aiming for the bigger rocks and roots on the drops as I gained confidence in the bike. I realized this ride was not going to be all pain and suffering, it was going to fun at least some of the time. The scenery was not so bad either.
Henry O decided to call it a day after he saved us from a missed turn. He gave us directions back to the lakes while he tried to rub out the cramps in his legs. I thought “That’s what you get for turning the screws so early”, but I wasn’t about to start talking smack so early in the day. I could be next.
The trails we hit next were truly amazing. They started out with steep, rocky descents that made me nervous at first, but again the Nomad did its thing and I gained confidence quickly…so much confidence that I was just pointed it downhill and let it roll. The Nomad has 6.5 inches of suspension travel in the front and rear, which makes it float over most any terrain. The rest of the trails into Graeagle were just a sweet, flowing roller coaster ride with a couple of rock gardens thrown in for good measure. There were few incidents on this leg of the ride save for DanO’s impression of a what happens when a linebacker catches you off guard and the Swedish kid who, while giving us water, explained how he broke his ribs riding to Downieville and back on a bike he pulled out of a creek (that’s hardcore).
I was feeling good with five or so hours in my legs, DanO was looking a little ragged and Mark appeared completely unfazed. The route so far had included the one big climb to Packers, the rollers and then a long descent through the Lakes Basin to our lunch stop in Graeagle. This was the halfway point at 35 miles. We had a short stop to eat, refill our hydro-packs and fix a few mechanicals and then set out again.
We rolled out for what was supposed to be a 5 mile climb on the road to Johnsville. I led out as we left the tiny town, but as soon as the road turned up I took my more familiar place at the back…way back. The temps had hit the 90s and there was no shade to be had. I struggled up, wrestling with that 38 tooth chain ring, as I watched the other two ride out of sight. Normally I would spin with an easy gear in a situation like this, but that was not an option on the Hellride. Again I just put my head down and did what I could.
The pavement ended, but a dirt road continued up the side of the mountain. I couldn’t see Mark or DanO any more, but their tires tracks reassured me I was still following them. The road passed the lower end of a ski lift and soon after the upper end and then continued to rise. I finally caught DanO as we made our way up an especially steep and rocky pitch. Suddenly Mark reappeared, coming back toward us. I knew then we had gone the wrong way. After some map consulting we realized we missed a turn back in Johnsville and the climb was taking the opposite direction we needed to going. “Bonus footies” according to Mark.
Luckily we were back on track in just a few minutes after our 2500 “bonus footies.” A quick turn at the Johnsville Museum and we were on our way to A-Tree. Again I lost sight of the other two as I set my own pace and began eating everything I could. We still had at least another 30 miles and I was not feeling so spry anymore. The two-track road rolled along a creek with beautiful mountains all around. I ate bars, sucked down gels, and drank water with the hopes of closing the gap and holding on for the rest of the ride. Mike, one of few guys supporting us on motorcycles, came cruising by me. He slowed enough to tell me to pick it up because one of the girls was only about a mile behind me. What? It’s one thing for the guys to keep dropping me, but for the girls to catch up? I don’t care if they do have triple chain rings. I caught up to Mike and some others where I finally scored a BURN, which I immediately chugged, and posed for a posed for couple pictures.
I set off for A-Tree again. I didn’t what or where A-Tree was, just that I was headed for it. As I was contemplating this on yet another climb, Rachel caught me. She pulled up along side me, spinning in her middle ring, and then preceded to tell me how the others were riding “way too slow” and how she expected to be catching DanO and not me. I eyed her triple chain ring with much envy and could only nod in reply. She continued on to A-Tree. Gees she was strong.
A-Tree, it turned out, was just an intersection in the forest roads with a fresh water spring at the base of a tree. Not exactly thrilling, but the water was refreshing. We refilled our packs and climbed on some steep roads up to this amazing saddle. I was offered a 360* view of the mountains, but was too wasted to pull out my camera. Actually, we had been joined by Forrest who is a photographer, so figured since he was on a motorcycle he could take the pictures. I took in a deep breath of the thin mountain air and had a look around. I was enthralled with the beauty until I saw where the road took us. Up of course. I could just make out Mark cleaning the steep climb, followed by Rachel and then DanO who was thankfully pushing his bike…. I knew I would be too.
I had to pull to the side of the climb to let a Suburban come through and then wait another minute for the dust to settle. I rounded the corner, but couldn’t see the others anymore. I could see DanO’s shoe prints next to his tire tracks, so I had hopes of not being too far behind even though I was walking rather slowly due to the cramps in my abs.
Cresting the top of the climb was a huge relief. I had suffered, but it was seemingly over now. I still about 20 miles to go, but it was mostly downhill from here. I couldn’t see the others, but I naively though I might catch them on the way down. I figured since they left me without a map, I might have been allowed to catch back up…silly me. I just followed their tire tracks downhill.
I had to get passed the Suburban and then about 9 jeeps driven by folks who had most of their teeth. One guy even raised a toast to me with his Miller High Life. I was starting to recover mentally and physically. Picking up speed, I was picking the fun lines again over the bigger obstacles only slowing to look for tire tracks at the many intersections. Eventually I came across an arrow and an “H” made of sticks, which I assumed were for me. This would be my last sign of Mark, DanO and Rachel until I made it back to Downieville.
The arrow pointed me toward some single track and the fun began. It was a fast, technical descent along a tumbling creek. I let speed increase even though my arms felt like noodles. This was too much fun not to take advantage of, after all this is what riders come to Downieville for. The scenery was picturesque when you slowed enough to see it and the descents were a sweet reward after a long day in the saddle.
I came to a four-way intersection with no arrow to be found and I had no real knowledge of the entire route. Until this point I would pick out the next major landmark and then just follow the others…. so now I was screwed. I knew the plan was to take the Big Boulder trail, but none of the signs at this intersection pointed to it. There was discussion about taking Lavezzola trail or road instead if it was getting dark and we needed to cut it short. There was a sign to Lavezzola and as a bonus that trail continued downhill. Guess which way I took?
Looking at a map after the ride I think I took Pauley Creek to Butcher Ranch to Third Divide. I think. Despite being very unsure of where I was or if I was going the right way, I was having a great time ripping through these trials. Everything had such a nice flow to it that I hardly needed to pedal and the Nomad made the technical part fun where an XC bike would have been painful this late in the day. I’m pretty sure I had been on the bike for 10 hours at this point.
I hit the Upper First Divide trailhead and asked the two guys cleaning their bikes if three people had come through riding Santa Cruz bikes. “Yeah, but that was a while ago” was the answer. That sounded like my group to me, so I continued and again I was rewarded was some great trail. This time it was carved in to the side of a cliff with huge drops into the creek below off to one side. For the first time in at least 7 hours I passed another rider on the trail that was not in the Hellride group. I figured I must have been getting close.
The trail crossed a road and I asked a girl there if I was headed to Downieville. “Yeah…how long have you been riding?” I must have looked similar to how I felt, which was wrecked. I briefly explained the route and the contest, as her eyes got bigger. Her friend, the guy I just passed came off the trail and she started with “Do you believe this guy just….” I had to cut the conversation short to get back to town. Armed with renewed confidence that I was not just on the right track, but very close I stood and cranked on the pedals.
A house. It was red. I saw a red house and I knew I was there. It was over. I didn’t even think about winning anything, I was just happy I was done and had not gotten lost. I rolled onto Main Street and began to recognize the buildings. I was really done now. I rounded the corner parked myself in front of Yuba Expeditions and was handed a beer. I was also the first one finished…..duh.
After some deliberation it was determined the “bonus footies” kept me in the contest and get to keep the bike. When the others dropped me I followed the best I could, but without the map or arrows I was on my own. Marc, DanO and Rachel did take the Big Boulder trail, which included another significant climb. Unfortunately or maybe fortunately depending on your point of view I was unable to follow that route and made it back about a 30 minutes before them. My guess is that I was pretty close when I found the stick arrow and the “H”, but I missed the next turn and never saw them again. Luckily for me I was back at the shop drinking a beer and not trying to find my way back in the dark because it had already been one Hell-of-a-Ride.
There were a few minutes of daylight left so I jumped in the North Yuba to get cleaned up before the party ensued. There was much story telling, back patting, beer drinking and pizza eating to be done.
Congrats to Rae, who also finished her ride with Marla. Her boyfriend Heath was able to tag along and finish the ride as well. Heath, can I get some of those pictures?
Marla Streb’s version:
http://mtbike.mountainzone.com/blogs/marla_streb/
Rae Gandolf’s Hellride account:
http://forums.mtbr.com/showthread.php?postid=1129514#poststop
All of my pictures are in my gallery. I’ll add more if/when I get them.
Many thanks to:
Rob, Scott & DanO from Santa Cruz Bicycles for their generosity & genius in creating the Hellride.
Greg Williams from Yuba Expeditions for laying out the route and supplying ample amounts of adult beverages.
Mark Weir for the hours of abuse; I loved every minute of it.
Mike & Forrest for their support and encouragement.
Patrick, Henry O and the many others I met in Downieville who truly love this sport.
I’d also like to thank my sponsors:
Mechanical & Product Support from Cartecay Bike Shop – Ellijay, GA
Supplements from GNC 5361 N Socrum Loop Rd, Lakeland, FL
Energy drinks from Source Drinks makers of BURN & BURN2
Nutritional & health advice from Dr. Jamie Brenon.
Chiropractic Services from Dr. Josh Glass
Addition Product Support from Chainwheel Drive Bike Shop in Clearwater & Palm Harbor, FL
Eddie O