Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Fort Davis Day Two: The Long Ride



Friday night was a restless sleep for me. At about 2:30 a.m., I awoke and had Rick Ogan’s bike on my mind and worrying whether the person from Midland would get to the Prude Ranch in time for the bike to be fixed so that Rick could ride--The Long Ride. The long ride is a 76 mile scenic loop over the Davis Mountains leaving from Prude Ranch on highway 18, through Fort Davis on highway17, turning on Farm Market 166 until it loops around and intersects with 18 again. For a good look at the route and elevation, go to http://www.mapmyride.com/ride/united-states/tx/fort-davis/246094088.
As mentioned, I had awakened at 2:30. As mentioned in the Day One article, Fort Davis is a quaint town. So? The Limpia Hotel is across the street from the Court House. The Court House has a large clock in the dome and it gongs the hour in a quaint way.
So I heard three gongs, then I heard four gongs; I missed five, so I must have dozed, and the alarm went off at 5:30. And the day’s activities began.

Start time was at 8 a.m. from the Prude Ranch, but we left a little early to pick up our T-shirts which were not available the previous afternoon, and we wanted to see if Rick’s bike was fixed. No. And Rick was “patiently” waiting in the registration area. It was too close to start time even if the person showed up while we were talking to Rick for him to be able to start with the main line up. Rick was still optimistic and said he would just start the ride late. I told him we would see him at Rest Stop Three and left to line up.

Rick accompanied us to the start line as he volunteered to take our picture.

I took a picture of the bikeless rider who at the time was still able to joke around.
Early in the morning the temperature was a chilly 53 so I donned arm warmers and Chris wore arm and leg warmers. The previous year the volunteers at Rest Stop One took excess clothing back to the Ranch if one would put his items in a marked bag. So this year I carried a mesh bag with a suitcase tag in which to place our warmers as our jersey pockets were stuffed to the brim with provisions to last all day.

By 8 the sun had started to rise so the temperature was probably all the way up to 58. .
The coldest part of the ride is between Prude Ranch and Fort Davis. Going down Limpia Canyon the sun isn’t high enough to provide any warming effect, so one is in the “shade” all the way. However, as advertised, it's a scenic ride. From Prude Ranch you start going through canyons and then past the Fort Davis State Park. Just as you enter town, off to the right is the Fort Davis National Historic Site. Five miles down and only 71 more to go.

Riding through Fort Davis was a small reminiscence of Wichita Falls with the local population out cheering the bikers as they passed. Some you could tell were left-behind spouses as they would be standing in the street with a camera. Locals were more sedate and would have a comfortable location in front of a favorite store.

Just out of town we turned right onto highway 166. The road is one of those false flats. It looks level but if you have studied the topography, for about 20 miles from Ft. Davis, the road gains about 1,000 feet elevation. The pastures are flat and hills are still in the distance.


At about 12 miles was Rest Stop 1. We took off our arm and leg warmers and put them in the mesh bag. Unbeknownst to us, the sponsors had provided plastic bags and magic markers for people who weren’t aware that they could deposit excess clothing or equipment. It was still a little chilly and Chris was reluctant to part with her warm clothing. Our pockets were still full and we have small saddle bags, unlike the “suitcase” that Rick has on his bike.

Continuing on down the road was like an easy Sunday ride. The road was still on the slight incline and the smaller hills were still off in the distance, although occasionally one could glimpse the upcoming excitement of the mountains.
Chris was not up to her usual adrenaline rush and would lag behind, which gave me ample time to stop and take pictures and get a “front” shot instead of my usual shot from behind.

And she was out of sorts. We both were still in a funk about yesterday's accident. In case you can’t read the lips, they were saying “Don’t take any more pictures of me!!”
At mile 19 Chris stated, “I am warning you that my legs are feeling funny.” What a time to bonk or cramp. Fifty seven more miles to go!! Can one hang in there for that long, especially with some good climbs ahead? I was afraid her first ever SAG was near. However, within a couple of miles, Rest Stop 2 came into view. We stopped, and while in a line, Chris actually apologized for biting my head off for taking her picture. (Thought about deleting the horrible picture of her—but nah).

David Ham was at Rest Stop 2 being the tourist host and telling people about the rest stop being at the Old Barrel Springs Stage Coach Stand. “The spring was up in the white rocks behind that sign. Also in these hills was the home of Captain Gillette—one of the area's old time Texas Rangers.” During a lull in his speech, I asked him if his person got there in time for Rick to fix his bike and make the ride. His face fell, and he said no, the guy picked up the parts from the store but never showed up. One of his parents was sick so David was afraid that the person had to stay in town to take care of the parent. He said that he had apologized to Rick, but that was the last person scheduled to join them over the weekend.

Man, to be so high (5,800 feet at the time), I felt low. Rick would miss the scenic loop ride; I had a grouchy wife still moaning instead of her usual pleasant self, and my legs were asking if we were there yet. The best thing was that I knew that the next 30 or so miles had some really great scenery. As I had told Chris after her apology, "It's not a race; let’s take it easy and just enjoy the ride".

David went back to his being host and was telling some people that the next rest stop would be at Bear Mountain--but there was a 9 mile downhill from there.

Leaving rest stop two there was another downhillish ride for about 10 miles. Even though it looks downhillish on a map, it is like Rick and Chris’s Friday ride. On the map it was downhill but in real life, there are a lot of ups.


As a matter of fact, one of the ups was the hill that the first time we rode the Cyclefest I had a very hard time getting up. Chris had beaten me up the hill and had stopped to take pictures. I had my head down just churning away trying to get up the hill. Too late, I heard her yell “Roy, stop!” I plowed into her and fell over (that ever happen to you Brenda?). Anyway, I still have the scars from that “downhill” ride.

Getting closer to the start of Bear Mountain. Mt. Livermore is in this range. One of its craigs is 8,206 feet, just 83 feet lower than El Capitan.


After the first hard climb, there is a picnic area that I have dubbed Rest Stop 2 ½. We and a bunch of people stopped there to rest, catch our breath, and tell war stories. A local was at the stop and pointed out that the hill to our left was really Bear Mountain,
but the Bear Mountain rest stop was about 1 ½ miles UP. When I say up, I mean up as from the unofficial rest stop to the top has about a 1,000 foot elevation gain in the mile and a half.

At “Rest Stop 2 ½" there were two pickups, and the drivers were offering to SAG people to the rest stop at the top of the mountain. A lot of people took them up on the offer.
Chris rolled into the stop and I told her of the SAG offer if she wanted to ride up. To her credit, she gave me a loud, indignant “NO!” One of the SAG drivers gave her a thumb up and said “Atta girl”.

Scenery between "rest stop 2 1/2" and stop 3 at the top of Bear Mountain.

I rarely have anything to brag about, so please indulge me. The first year climbing Bear Mountain, when we would get down to below 4 miles per hour, we would stop, rest, and then go again. The second year, I made it up all the way at about 4 MPH. This year, I made it up at 5 MPH. OK, some of the steeper areas I dipped below 4, but the average is what counts, right?

Remember David's saying that there was a nine mile downhill after Bear Mountain? Well, I clocked six miles and then found myself pedaling uphill like mad. Now if the next three miles were downhill, I didn’t notice, because David said NINE--what happened?

Sometime after Bear Mountain, 166 intersects with 118, the road curves and starts up Fisher Hill. Series of shots getting closer to another climb part of the ride.


Look at it this way. You can enjoy the scenery much more if you just take a stroll along the lane.Rest Stop 3: Bear Mountain scenery
Start of downhill from Bear Mountain. Doesn't look like much, but it's better than going uphill.

One would be much better off “resting” on that six/nine mile respite after Bear Mountain, because suddenly you are going up Fisher Hill. HILL? If that is a hill, I will eat my helmet. It is one of those inclines that if you look up, you don’t see the extended hill, you see sky. You have to bend your head down to see the “hill”. I have renamed Fisher Hill to Walker Hill. A few people walked up Bear Mountain but a LOT of people walked up Fisher Hill. Another stroll along the lane.

The difficulty of "Walker" Hill reminded me...it seemed that about half the riders turned around at Rest Stop 2, as that out-and-back made up the 55 mile route. In increasing frequency thereafter, you would see more and more people in the SAG vehicles. And at Rest Stop 3 (Bear Mountain) and Rest Stop 4 (Fisher Hill), people dropped like flies. Now the problem with that is that if you are “off the back” anyway, and the other "off the back" people with you are sagging in, it makes you even more off the back. Instead of in the middle of the pack, by Fisher Hill, we were almost the last ones on the ride. No big deal really. Remember the happy go lucky attitude at Rest Stop 2, let’s take it easy and enjoy the ride. And, we were about to meet the goal of our every ride; complete the ride under your own power.

Fisher (Walker) Hill; Rest Stop 4.

Start of downhill from Fisher Hill.

Between Fisher Hill and Rest Stop 5 is what they call the “high meadows”. It is a stretch of rollers for about 10 miles. There are enough ups and downs to keep it interesting and the scenery is still great.




You know when you are getting close to Rest Stop 5.

Rest Stop 5 is almost anti-climatic. There was a climb to get to the stop but not the drama of the last two stops. From Rest Stop 5 to Prude Ranch is Chris’s dream ride--10 miles of extreme descent. The road has a lot of hair pin turns that are needed if you were going the other direction--up. But down lets you practice your fast speed turns. Once we left the rest stop, I did not see Chris again until we hit the “WALL”. On the way down is a hill that is called Heartbreak Hill. It is called "the wall" because as you are going downhill, you round a curve and look up and to see what looks like a wall straight in front of you. Just when you thought there were no more climbs. It can catch you off guard and you could stall out if your shift-gears reaction time was not fast enough.

Only pictures after RS 5. I was too busy just hanging on to the bike. I was glad that I was clipped on to the pedals so that I wouldn't be blown off the bike.Close to the end:

Civilization :

At the end of the ride, there were no bands playing, water sprays, crowds milling around, pictures being taken—if you want all that, go to HHH. What the Cyclefest offers is great scenery and a real challenge of a ride. Fort Davis Cyclefest should be on everyone’s bucket list if he enjoys cyling.

Fort Davis Day Two: The Long Ride was over.

A post script. We went to the State Park to see if Rick’s tent was still there or had he left already. When we got there, he was busy installing new handlebars!!! He had gone over to Midland (three hours each way) and got the bare minimum of things in order to repair his bike enough to ride. He had his heart set on riding the Mount Locke Hill Climb on Sunday and was determined not to let anything deter that ride.

So please visit again, because Rick’s determination made possible Fort Davis Day Three: The Tough Ride.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Fort Davis-Day One-The Joy Ride



The Fort Davis weekend will be broken into at least three stories: "Day One--The Joy Ride," "Day Two--The Long Ride," and "Day Three--The Tough Ride." The idea to break the weekend into separate parts came from a conversation Christine and I had as we ate lunch at Fort Stockton Sunday on our return home.

I had wolfed my lunch down and looked across at Chris’s plate. She had taken about two bites. I started telling her a story about a person I met on the ride. As I finished, I looked across again and Chris had finished her lunch. I said “Wow, I only had time to tell one story”. She said, “You tell a story long”. Aha! I had caught my editor in a grammatical goof of putting an antecedent before the precedent or some such nonsense. So, I said, “You mean I tell a long story”. Christine looked at me and said “No, you tell a story, LONG.

And the weekend was three very eventful days, so if I tried to write one story it would be LONG.

Events leading up to day one started about three years ago when Carl Murdock, a friend from Odessa, told us of the Prude Ranch's holding a ride each year in early spring with bikers starting from Prude Ranch and rolling downhill to Balmorhea and then being SAGed back to the Ranch. Carl said he didn’t have to pedal for 18 miles and that it was a lot of fun. We went to the Fort Davis Cyclefest that year and Chris saw the downhill road and the idea of rolling downhill for miles on end was firmly fixed in her mind.

Fast forward to this year and we had the bright idea that on Friday Christine would ride downhill, and I would SAG for her, and then on Sunday I would ride down, and she would SAG for me. All set. Then we learned that Rick Ogan was planning the Fort Davis trip, and I approached him with the idea that he and Chris ride downhill Friday, and I would SAG for both of them. Sounded like a good idea, so on the Wednesday ride before the Fort Davis weekend, it was agreed that he would meet us at the Limpia Hotel at 4 p.m.

Friday...and he and Chris would leave from the hotel on the way to Balmorhea. I had mapped out the ride on MapMyRide, and it was 31 miles of downhill—-with a few uphill areas (Rick, see http://www.mapmyride.com/route/us/tx/fort%20davis/797125245776699411 if you don’t believe me.) MapMyRide “promised” there would be 31.78 miles to Toyahvale with 1,647 feet of descent and only 121 feet of ascent. The perfect ride.

We arrived early enough to tour the hotel and walk around town a little. Even though we have stayed at the Limpia before, it is almost impossible to tire of the décor.




And the town has the quaint small town flavor.




A few minutes before 4 p.m., Rick rolled up on his bike.

Rick was staying at the Fort Davis State Park and found that even though it was mostly downhill, there were a few ups. (Sound familiar?) And, Rick was very cautious as he was not only to ride the 75 mile scenic loop over the Davis Mountains on Saturday, but on Sunday he had signed up to race up the BIG hill to McDonald’s Observatory, so he wanted to conserve his legs. I assured him that MapMyRide said it was all downhill, so no sweat.

And the Joy Ride Began.

Right outside of town the terrain started downhill (from my perspective in the truck). Chris and Rick were pedaling downhill and I thought they just wanted to go really, really fast.

I was having fun racing around them trying to find a good place to pull over and take their pictures of the great downhill ride.
No matter how steep the hill, I noticed they continued to pedal. OK, once I saw them coast. But I thought they just wanted to go really, really fast. And it was no time at all from my pulling off to the side of the road, getting out, and here they would come down the hill.

OK. Maybe there were some inclines.
But, the inclines were off-set (from my biased opinion since I wasn't having to pedal) by the scenery on the way.





More scenery




And the ride continues:


Somewhere in the story I will have to confess, I think MapMyRide was wrong not only on the descent but the ascent. On the ride up the hill going into Wild Rose Pass, it was at least an incline of 1 ½ miles.


Way back down the hill I saw Chris was pushing her bike up the hill. I asked Rick to wait for me and I would drive back down and SAG Chris up the hill.

On the top of the hill, both Rick and Chris informed me that the reason they were pedaling all the time was that the wind was so hard they had to pedal even if it was downhill, and the number of up-hills equaled the number of down-hills. Rick politely informed me of this. Chris really, really, informed me of this. It was decided to call it a day as they both wanted to conserve their legs, but they certainly could not on this “downhill” ride.


The uphill that they had just climbed seemed to be the only chance for them to have a good downhill ride, as it was certainly steep enough, and the wind would be to their backs. So I told them I would meet them at a picnic area at the bottom of the hill, and they could finally have a joy ride.

At the picnic area I put the bikes on the rack but Rick’s bike is taller than mine and the safety bolt that I use would not go through the hole. Both Rick and I checked the tightness of the tube hook lock, and I had all the wheels latched down with brand new Velcro straps. We started back to Fort Davis when Rick remembered he left his computer on the bike, so I stopped, and he got the computer. He was in the back seat and was reading off some to the stats of the ride. Somewhere thereafter I looked through the rear view mirror and...........................




In rapid succession the conversations went like this: me, “I can’t see Rick’s bike!!” Rick, upon looking back, “My bike is gone!!” Chris, looking through the side mirror, “STOP, you're dragging the bike!!!!’



I stopped. We jumped out. The hook had come off Rick’s tube, and the bike had fallen to the highway, but the wheels were held onto the rack by the Velcro straps. I am not sure how long I dragged the bike, but the left handle bar at the shifter/brake was ground completely off, the leather wrap was scraped off somewhere on the chip seal, and Rick’s brand new Brooks saddle was chewed up at the back ridge. AND his favorite head light was no where to be found. We all were sick.
Trust me; the damage was worse than it looks in the pictures.



This time we latched the hook down with a bungee cord (for the life of me I can not say why that didn’t occur to me when I first found that the safety bolt would not go through the bar).

The bike stayed on but the damage had been done. Little, quaint Ft. Davis or even Alpine, 50 miles away, had no bike shops, so it was decided to go to the Prude Ranch, and maybe the sponsors of the ride, Peyton’s Bike Shop, would have brought spare parts. David Ham of Peyton’s Bike did not bring spare parts but was very helpful and had a person to call the shop for one of the people who was to come out later to bring the needed parts for Rick to be able to get on the road.

The person was to arrive early Saturday morning and they thought that they could put the handle bar and other parts on fast enough for Rick to be able to ride the scenic loop Saturday morning.

We took Rick to the State Park, and even after all of the above, he agreed to eat dinner with us. We weren’t sure of the time to eat so set a tentative time, and then Christine and I went to the hotel and obtained reservations for 8:15. Since we hadn’t set a firm time, we went back to the State Park to tell Rick what time our reservations were. He wasn’t at the site, so we went to another site where the Robinson’s from San Angelo were as they had some tools that Rick could use to start his repairs. Neither the Robinson’s nor Rick were at that site. We had no choice but to return to the hotel and cross our fingers that all would turn out. As we pulled into the parking lot, Rick was in the back of his truck working away trying to get his bike ready for parts replacement the next morning.

I don’t know how, but Rick was still able to smile.


And that is how we ended the day of the “Joy Ride”.