Tuesday, April 7, 2015

SFR Healdsburg / Russian River 300k ride report

The San Francisco Russian River 300 km brevet was on 28 Feb. It's taken me awhile to do the report, which is, I freely admit, on the long side. I just read another blog post on this same ride which was 6 or 7 sentences long, depending on how you count. For a great report (with photos) of the worker's ride two weeks earlier, see Platty Jo's blog. In any case, here's what I wrote.


I wavered going into the 300 km brevet. The theory is the progression of brevet distances is supposed to prepare you for the each one in turn, but ramping from 200 km to 300 km to 400 km to 600 km represents increases of 50%, 33%, and 50%, well in excess of any training plan I've seen. This sort of progression is good for behavioral adaptation more than physical, of boosting your confidence and teaching lessons in pacing, nutrition, hydration, and preparation. For physical adaptations more than this is needed. For example, after a week of recovery from the 200 km, you've got two weeks, three weekends, to ramp up the physical load before a relatively easy week before making the jump to the new distance.

Unfortunately, as I was mixing running and cycling, this didn't really happen for me. I got some solid short climbing rides in, but the focus on cycling endurance simply wasn't there. What was going to have to save me was my experience. I've ridden double centuries many times and in this case i was going to do that again: 10 km to the start, 300 km of brevet, and 10 km home totals 320 km or 200 miles.

I left home a bit later than I'd planned, having discovered that my tail light wasn't charged. As a result, I took my "emergency" tail light from my Ritchey Breakaway, mounting it on the Winter Allaban which is my preferred bike for the brevets. An additional delay was caused by not having been able to find the reflective vest Cara had offered to let me use. Fortunately I remembered at the last minute where it was. I thought this was strictly a back-up move in case I were to finish after dark, something I wasn't planning on doing. But it turnout out to be far more important, and not just because of my finishing time.

So what's wrong with the Ritchey Breakaway, or even better, the carbon fiber Fuji SL/1 I typically use for "races" and "race-like events" like double centuries? It's really a matter of philsophy. Brevets are about self-sufficiency and enjoying the ride, and the steep Winter Allaban, while a lot heavier than the Fuji and therefore typically slower, has a nice handlebar bag which makes it super-easy to store clothing and keep my pockets unencumbered. It's not perfect. For one thing, during this brevet is wasn't adequately secured laterally, and this created an added instability in cross-windy descents which I experienced most prominently at last year's Memorial Day tour and once again on this ride. After this ride I secured it with zip ties to the handlebars at the brake levers. But additionally it's not so easy to open when riding, because the bag closure is a loop over a hook between the bag and the head tube. It's a bit cumbersome to reach down there and unhook it. But I really like having all my stuff there in front of me: food, clothing, tools, and spare tube. Then I have a nice secure handlebar bag pocket to store my brevet card, rather than in my jersey pocket where it can be damaged with sweat or accidentally dropped onto the roadway. So while part of riding a brevet is about finishing sooner rather than later, I don't want to impede my enjoyment of the ride to do so. Being able to carry some extra clothes to be warm at the start or in the evening, being able to stow the clothing when it gets warm, and being able to carry extra food so I don't need to worry what I can find at the random stores we stop at are all worth a bit of time. Now if this was a double century, with well-stocked checkpoints and options to shuttle clothing back to the start from rest stops it would be a different matter.

Anyway, I was a bit late leaving, but I wasn't too worried about getting there before the 6 am start, and rode out at my planned relaxed pace. The issue was it wasn't just a matter of getting there before the start. I first checked in, then got directed to bike check, then was told I needed reflective leg bands. Honestly I'd not thought much about nighttime visibility. I was lucky I'd taken the time to put a working red flashing light on. But I had thought reflective leg bands were just for overnight brevets. With a start at near dawn at 6am (it was still standard time), then planning to finish before civil twilight at around 6 pm I thought I could squeeze by. But no go.

Fortunately instead of being rejected straight off I was directed to a box back at check-in where they had extra leg bands. So back I went. But all they had was a single band which was in the process of disassembling. I took it, wrapping it haphazardly about my left leg, hopeing it would stay in place. Then I went back to bike check.

This seemed good enough for the bike check people and I was then sent back to the check-in once again, this time with my bike check certification. There I got my brevet card and was signed in at the start.

With all this I basically used every minute of margin I'd had. The ride was starting...

With much less ceremony than prefaced our 200 km brevet the month before, organizer Rob Hawks made some brief announcements, basically of the "it's the usual" variety, then was ready to send us off. I raised my hand and asked him if the checkpoints, with the exception of the one he'd noted was going to be a stamp @ Marshall, were going to be check-in or receipts. Receipts, he said. The implication was "the usual receipt drill with which you should be very familiar."

Here again my lack of experience and preparation were going to be a problem. When he said "receipts" I thought it was a simple matter of collecting receipts from the stores at each of the checkpoints. The randonneuring guide, on the other hand, makes it clear the key bit of documentation is a signed and timed brevet card: the receipts are just proof of what's written there. I'm normally a big fan of following the rules: I should have read that before starting the brevet...

So off we went.

I had a better position nearer the front on this one than I'd had on the 200 km brevet. And position is surprisingly important on these rides, since they begin on the narrow path along the side of the Golden Gate Bridge. It seems strange, but if you're not near the front on the path, your chances of being in the front group without some serious match burning are essentially gone.

Any smugness I was feeling about this, however, was annihiliated when Carlin Eng, who was nearby, told me my reflective band was about to fall off. The thing was just in too great a state of decay. So I had to pull over, dozens of riders zipping past, to remove it and stuff it into my handlebar bag. So much for good position...

It was probably for the best, I decided, since the goal was to keep a nice and sustainable pace for the whole ride. So I chatted with the riders nearby as we crossed the bridge.

Immediately on the other side, some riders came blasting up the short rise out of the parking lot, a hard anaerobic effort. I couldn't believe it. Was this the way experienced randonneurs paced themselves for the distance? I let them do what they wanted to do.

Onward, along roads I could practically do in my sleep. We were soon at Camino Alto, and I rode it at a steady but moderate pace. Again I saw riders blasting out of the saddle as the climb began, but they had soon slowed I wondered what they'd had for breakfast and whether it was legal because they were certainly acting frisky at the very beginning of what was to be a long day.

The roads from here blur in my mind... Ross... Fairfax... White's Grade... past Nicasio Valley Road.... but this time instead of staying on Drake to Olema we turned on Platform Bridge Road to Petaluma - Point Reyes Road.

As I was approaching the Nicasio Valley Road intersection, the opposite end of the road we'd passed earlier, I heard that sound still burned into my memory from the last ride. "Ping!" I'd broken another spoke on the driveside of the rear wheel. There was clearly something wrong here. After the last time I'd increased the tension on all my spokes as a safety measure, and here I broke another spoke mid-spoke. As I noted in the 200 km report, I'd eventually show it to Box Dog Bikes (after the 300k) where the mechanic told me the spokes had signs of oxidation. Fortunately my 32 spoke wheels have enough spokes to function with one less, and I did the best I could to secure the broken spoke, and continued on.

Soon after I was hailed down by two guys at the side of the road. This was the secret checkpoint. It was well-located: it prevented the short-cut along Nicasio Valley Road. It was nice getting my brevet card stamped. I always appreciate volunteers. This marked the end of my wonderful streak of manned checkpoints on brevets.

Past the opposite side of Nicasio Valley Road, we continued up the steep "wall" I knew well from the Mt Tam Double, then down the opposite side. I ended up falling in here with a rider on an Alex Singer. He had a Paris-Brest-Paris jersey. I was super-impressed all around. I asked him about his bike, about the ride. 1200 km is beyond my capacity for simple comprehension.

But as I rode with him I felt the first signs of fatigue, as I commented to him. I was looking forward to the stop. This was very much not a good sign: we were less than 25% done with the ride. I hoped it was just a passing thing. Unfortunately it was not. I wasn't yet at the "running on fumes" level. That would come later. Rather this was the "I am feeling the miles and I'd better be careful" stage. When I'm fit, this usually kicks in at around mile 70 (km 110). My preparation for this ride, however, was not ideal.

Petaluma is always a shock to the system, palpably physical but not strictly physiological. The ride to this point had been wonderful: leaving San Francisco early enough that cars were a virtual non-factor, then riding through georgeous Marin County roads. But Petaluma is the ugly face of urban sprawl: it screams car addiction. The usual mix: overbuilt roads, a huge land volume squandered on car parking, pedestrian peril in what should be pedestrian paradise. You really need to ride in Europe to appreciate how different rural population centers can be.

To reinforce the point, the first checkpoint was in the middle of a Safeway parking lot the size of many Italian or French cities. Ironically, my one and only close call in this 300k was in this lot, as I had to emergency brake entering of the many uncontrolled intersections. A woman in her oversized vehicle was excited to get home with her new purchases. I was probably a bit too excited to reach the checkpoint.

The store itself was supernaturally large. Of course I was in a rush to get in and out. I grabbed a Tetra Pack (green point deduction) of coconut juice with a $2 coupon attached and a banana. But as I tried to make my rapid escape, all the manned check-out stations had long lines. I decided to go to a self-checkout machine. This has almost always been a mistake in my experience, and today was no different. Bzzt.... I should have gotten in one of the lines and used the time to drink the juice. First, I forgot to use my coupon (I was never asked to scan coupons, so probably had to look for how to do that). Then when I couldn't figure out how to deal with the banana. It was asking for my credit card, so I inserted that, and then I was checked out. I owe them for the banana.

As I was leaving, I realized I'd forgotten my gloves, which I'd taken off the operate the machine whose complexity had obviously exceeded my technical skill. So I went back to fetch them. Back outside, I poured coconut juice into my bottles, drank the rest, got on my bike, and carefully stored my receipt in my otherwise empty route sheet holder. Next up was the long grind north to Healdsburg, and I wasn't looking forward to that. But I set off anyway, because it's what had to be done.

The ride north was indeed something to be forgotten. We were on roads in the immediate fall-out zone of 101. Too many lanes, too much traffic, and way too many traffic lights made for frustrating going.

We passed through Santa Rosa, which to me always suggests Terrible Two, a fantastic ride. But Terrible Two rapidly leaves the sprawl zone, while we were embracing it. My mood continued to decline. It wasn't helped when another rider told me my rear wheel was horribly out of true. It's nice having brakes which allow for this and to continue riding, but I resolved to improve it at the next stop.

I asked a rider next to me at the time about the next checkpoint and was told it was indeed another cookie-cutter mega-Safeway. Joy joy. At least I had company to help with he navigation.

I'm not totally sure where Santa Rosa ended and Healdsburg began, but we eventually got to the Safeway. I just followed wheels through the maze of streets and across another huge parking lot. The irony is to avoid walking to the local store people instead drive to Safeway where they instead walk across the giant parking area.

At this Safeway, I filled my bottles with water left over from other riders, adding some Sustained Energy powder I'd packed in my bag in a zip-lock. Sustained energy is great but there's only so much of it I can consume on one ride before it becomes intolerable. That's typically 2 or 3 bottles depending on the day. This was to be my second bottle and that was enough. But even that is worthwhile. I further decided I was fine with the food in my handlebar bag, and really didn't want to deal again with another megastore. So I found a receipt on the ground and took that instead.

One thing on my to-do list was to improve my rear wheel. Having already increased the tension since the 200k, it was harder to compensate for the broken spoke. Instead of simply increasing the tension on the 2nd-adjacent spokes I had to further increase the tension (a bit less) on the 4th-adjacent and decrease the tension ont he adjacent and (less) on the 3rd-adjacent. This probably resulted in the wheel going slightly out of round but I had to deal with that. Nobody commented on my wheel again the rest of the ride and I had no further problems. Interestingly I wasn't the only one with spoke problems on the ride: another cyclist told me he'd broken a spoke also.

Navigating out was a bit tricky. I asked another rider about the route and was given verbal directions: "Go out and take Millwest" he said. I traversed the huge parking lot and went to the intersection I thought he meant. I saw Westside Road but no Millwest. So I pulled out my phone, brought up the email with the route sheet, downloaded the PDF, and viewed that. Ah! It was "Mill Street/Westside Road." Mill Street was what the road became in the opposite direction. Had I printed my route sheet as I was obviously intended to do this confusion would have been avoided.

My spirits quickly picked up as Westside Road was truly nice. I was riding solo here and really enjoying it even if my speed was on the wrong side of 30 kph. It's amazing how quickly you can escape the sprawl zone here if you try.

The fun was interrupted when I finally reached River Road. Mill ends with an intersection, to the left a T into River Road, but ahead merging into River Road as well. I was a bit confused by this, investigating the T, trying to reconcile that with the route sheet which had said to continue rather than turn, when a group of riders passed behind me. Being in a group is a good idea but I was so low on reserves at this point I lacked the power to go with even slight accelerations. Anyway I figured out what I was supposed to do so continued on River Road.

River wasn't much different than Westside except it carried enornously higher traffic, much of it "recreational" pick-up trucks, and similar. This wasn't the sort of road I'd seek out but it's somewhat unavoidable out here. It seems you're in pristine rural but the enormous car traffic reveals a higher than expected population density. And it's not just the density -- it's that seemingly everyone who lives here seems to want to get in their motor vehicles and drive to and fro with their weekends. I thought the point of being in such a beautiful place was to enjoy where you were.

One activity which helped keep my mind off the enormity of the suffering remaining on the ride was looking for a place to pee at the side of the road. For a place which has such a rural appearance this was remarkably difficult. Sometimes I'd spot a candidate only as I rode past it -- too late since I didn't want to backtrack.

River Road got better as I rode eastward. At some point here I was passed by Carlin Eng and one other rider. He wanted me to hop onto his train, and I very much wanted to do so, but it was simply not possible. I'd been chasing another rider who seemed to be in similar peril as I was and slowly, ever so slowly, closing that gap. He'd passed me when, after many kilometers of looking, I finally found my spot to pee. He couldn't join Carlin either.

River Road leads eventually to Hwy 1 and that was a big goal for me. I was really hurting by this point: nothing at all in the tank. I tried not to think about the fact that I was as far from San Francisco as I'd ever been on a ride leaving from home. Even when I reached Highway 1, I wasn't going to be anywhere remotely close to home.

I hit the intersection with Hwy 1 and the rider I was chasing continued on. But I couldn't; I had to stop. Highway 1 climbed to the south and I needed a few seconds of recovery before continuing. A few seconds of rest isn't going to make that big a difference physically but mentally I needed those few seconds to collect myself.

The hill to the south wasn't a big deal, like most climbs on Highway 1 which had, with the exception of rare flat segments like Stinson Beach, a seemingly endless supply of them. But when I reached the top I saw my "quarry" had pulled over. He and I were obviously in a similar state. I waved to him and pedaled on.

The next check point was Bodega Bay. I found the store and pulled in. Carlin was here, smiling and laughing and chatting with a group of riders. I couldn't understand how he always seemed to have so much fun. Indeed it made me very bitter to see people having such a good time. Okay, that's not really true. But I was retreating inwards to suppress the discomfort.

We had to get a receipt at this store but there was a long line... very long. It seemed a group of randonneurs had arrived not long before me. I didn't feel like waiting around while I searched the trash for a receipt I could take, As I did so it occurred to me pulling receipts from the trash is a risky proposition: what if the receipt is for a substantially different time? For example, checkpoints are only open during a finite window: you can't be either early or late. If the receipt was from before the checkpoint opened I'd be disqualified. I started worrying about that Safeway receipt I'd scavenged. "But Dan, this receipt is from 2003!"

Of course I was supposed to be signing my arrival times on my route card. But as I noted, I'd not read the instructions.

The group of riders had some extra water (water tends to cost the same independent of container size, so riders buy gallon jugs which they share). By the time I did this I decided to check on the store again: the line was gone. So I got a can of coconut juice. Now I had a legitimate receipt.

Overall this stop had failed to be the paradigm of time-efficiency.

It was a straight run down Highway 1 to the next and final checkpoint: a fish place in Marshall. The main feature of this run, which passes through the town of Tamales and along Tamales Bay, is the endless hills, some steep. Normally I love this sort of thing but in my present state I approached them with at best grim determination. The descents weren't great either: the road tends to follow the contours of the shore, descending going inland, then turning to climb seaward. At these turns the relative wind direction shifts and that would cause instabilities on my bike. Later I came to realize this was likely due to the loosness of my handlebar bag, as I noted earlier. Zip ties did a wonderful job helping secure the bag laterally, and I've not had the same stability problems since.

Despite the hills, it's really hard to be suffering too much riding south on Highway 1 with a prevailing wind out of the north and goergeous ocean and bay views to the right. We are so blessed to be able to live and ride here, I thought, this just hours after cursing the car-addicted suburban sprawl purgatory we'd ridden through earlier.

On the way to Marshall I passed Nick's Cove, which had been the final checkpoint in the 200 km the month before. This boosted my mood. I'd made it home from here then; I could make it from here now.

Marshall checkpoint wasn't far past the cove. Bikes were parked, people were chatting, eating clam chowder, generally having a good time once again. There was a stamp inside the store. I asked Carlin, who was standing nearby, if I was supposed to stamp my receipt card in the box to which I pointed. It seemed like I got confirmation so I stamped it. In retrospect I realized I'd stamped in in the wrong box: the box where I was supposed to put my arrival time. My card was turning into a rando disaster. I'm sure Jan Heine would have been appalled.

I set out while Carlin was still there having a good time. He later said he'd thought that would be the last he'd see me. I think he overestimated my fitness. "But you finished the Mt Tam Double in less time than this!" he said. "But that was August and this is February" I responded. I left out the part about being over two years older as well. But the truth is I couldn't ever remember ever before doing 200 miles this early in the year.

Unlike when I was on the 200k, here my Garmin navigation was working fine at this point, so I had accurate estimates of the distance to the turn onto Point Reyes-Petaluma Road, so I lacked the mental diversion of doing math to estimate this distance. As I approached it I was moderately alarmed by the falling sun. Did my light have enough capacity? I wasn't sure. And my mount of my headlight was far from ideal. With the handlebar bag blocking the usual mounting points on the stem or handlebar top, I'd mounted it on the downtube. This isn't great because the light is blocked to the opposite side by the front wheel. Ely Rodriguez, who'd built the bag for me, recommended using a piece of carbon fiber tubing to make a piece which could be zip-tied to the fork to hold the light. This was an excellent idea but I'd not done it yet. An alternative would be to mount the light on my helmet. This has the further advantage of being steerable. I will do that next brevet. Really I'd brought the light just for back-up. I expected to have shared light in the morning between dawn and sunrise, and I'd optimistically planned to be back to the GGB before twilight.

After Point Reyes Petaluma reaches Platform Bridge it's deja vu all over again because the route passed this same road in the same direction around 200 km earlier. I'd been wondering how it would handle this dose of complexity and not surprisingly the Garmin got confused, telling me it was 200 km to the next checkpoint. I ignored it, wondering if it would recover when I turned onto Nicasio Valley Road, firmly establishing my position as within the end game.

And it did. I had happy distances on my Edge 500 once again.

Unlike the 200k, on this ride I cruised right by the Nicasio store. It felt liberating to not feel compelled to stop -- was I feeling stronger? But any optimism from my willingness to continue was pummelled with the grim reality that I'd soon be riding in the dark. But I procrastinated stopping to put on my jacket and vest and to turn on my lights. I was worried about the capacity, as I noted, having ridden with it during some time in the morning. The light is old and I really wasn't sure how long it could go.

I followed another rider to the top of the main climb on Nicasio Valley Road. He pulled over to do what I probably should have done (vest & lights). But I continued.

Down the other side, I reached Francis Drake. I could stop here, but I decided I'd rather get to the top of White's Grade first... it was a bit of a grind to the top of White's, but not bad. Once there I didn't want to lose momentum, so continued straight to the decent.

At this point it was obvious I needed my light, as riding through the corners was slightly dicey. It's a short flat run from the bottom of the descent to Fairfax Coffee Grinders, a traditional cyclist stop. So I finally stopped there.

By now it was passing from twilight to true darkness, so the rest of the way there was no question about needing my headlights. Here my inferior light mounting scheme was to show its weakness. I had the light mounted on the right side of my downtube, so most of the light which would have reached the left was blocked by the front wheel and tire. Putting the light on my head next time would be a most excellent idea.

At the Roasters, I filled my bottle with water and chatted briefly with another rider. I really didn't need the water. It was end game and chilly. I wondered if I'd regret the loss of time from walking into the store, filling the bottle from the dispenser, then returning to my bike. But part of my true reason for doing it was to give myself a break.

Climbing Camino Alto in the dark wasn't great, the following descent even less great. I was forced to go much slower than otherwise, even with my fatigue. But this late in the game, fatigue takes a back seat anyway. I could have gone harder.

At the bottom I joined a few other riders at the interminable traffic light at Blythsdale. Tick, tock, tick, tock.... it soon became obvious I'd missed my light cycle because the sensor had failed to trigger. This light really is ridiculous. By the time the light changed to green there were several of us together. But in a way this was good because it allowed us to combine our illumination.

And so I soon found myself at the base of the climb to the Golden Gate Bridge. Of course I was thinking about the 200k where Sindy launched that amazing acceleration here reach the bridge first in our group. I hoped I wasn't going to break a spoke here again as I was already running one short.

Sindy wasn't here this time, though, so I was able to climb the hill faster than my companions. But as I rode towards the west side path I was overtaken by another rider.

It was Carlin, smiling as always. He said he was surprised to have caught me, and who told me that we'd have to take the east side path instead of the west. That was nice -- he saved me a nontrivial descent and reclimb which would have cost me around 5 minutes had I been alone.

Carlin managed to gap me crossing the 101 exit ramp ahead of a car, so I was alone again. But the bridge is lit well enough so even with my relatively modest lighting scheme (250 lumins mounted poorly) I was able to navigate without problem. Well, there was the small problem of figuring out how to open the unusual gate at the southern side of the path. But I managed that.

And then I was done. Carlin was there, of course, as was John "300 km is a short ride" Beckham, who cheerfully encouraged me to the Hopland 400k four weeks later. John is simply amazing: he rides his double-top-tube Rivendell at his pace all day and finishes with an excellent time. I had one instead of two of the Ensure-a-likes, made sure to get checked in with what was my arrival time rather than the time the line at check-in had cleared (Carlin I guess didn't do this, as he's listed as finishing after me), and after chatting a bit, began the 10 km ride back home.

This was remarkably fine. You'd think it would be a sufferfest, that I'd want to hitch a ride with someone who'd driven there. But I was fine. And San Francisco streets are sufficiently well lit that I didn't any longer feel compromised by my light.

And so it ended. I was feeling good enough for a frisky ride by Tuesday morning, 58 hours later. But then not too surprisingly allergies hit or maybe I got sick, which took me out of commission for a week, when I "recovered" just in time for my 25 km trail race, after which I was down for another week. But that's how things go: steps forward, steps backward.

Lessons learned?

  • I should have had my lights set up the night before, including battery check.
  • I should have read the randonneuring rules, which would have informed me about the need for a reflective leg band and to sign my brevet card in addition to collecting receipts. And it was only due to luck I had a reflective vest with me.
  • Put my light on my helmet. It can be removed and stored in the handlebar bag during the daylight hours. On longer events bring two so I have plenty of battery power.
  • I got seriously tired around 75 km into the 200k, and around 150 km into the 300k, so I was clearly making progress. Nevertheless... if that meant I was going to get tired 225 km into the 400k, then that makes for a very hard 175 km.
  • Mixing running and cycling doesn't work so well for 300 km and beyond. I need to focus on getting in long rides if I'm going to ride long. In particular I've had success in the past doing back-to-back long days, for example 100+ miles, as preparation for 200 milers. In addition to taking away opportunities for cycle-specific training running in the days before takes its toll on how my legs are going to feel for 11+ hours on the bike. Running used to give me dead legs for any sort of riding for several days after. I'm much better now but still 200 miles allows for no compromise.
  • John Beckham's suggestion: try bringing along a can or two of Ensure-a-like: the added fat makes it go down smoothly and it provides a much-needed quick calorie boost when fading. This is an excellent suggestion: the Sustained Energy is fine but mixing in something easier to stomach is a good idea.
  • Thanks to Cara for offering to let me take her vest, then reminding me the night before.

Thanks to CampyOnly, who's been around the internets for quite awhile, for posting this excellent video of the race. It's an excellent job of distilling the feel of this long ride down to just a few minutes:


Here's the results sorted by finish time. Note I'm listed ahead of Carlin although he actually finished ahead of me, a difference between arrival time and check-in time likely.

pl    Rusa                Last  First        Time
1   5941  Achilli      Andrea    11:15
1   6151  Andersen     Carl      11:15
1   2506  Poletto      Max       11:15
1   3659  Smith        Briant    11:15
5   none  Koss         Brian     11:36
6   9274  Hicks        Craig     11:48
7   10340 Chalfant     Michael   11:55
8   9133  Turnbow      Joe       12:06
9   7590  Taylor       Mark      12:15
10  4185  Mason        Aron      12:26
11  8978  Ross         Roy       12:44
12  8213  Kraai        Jesse     13:01
13  4357  Cardona      Kley      13:02
13  3523  Lynch        Theresa   13:02
15  2133  McCaw        Richard   13:07
16  7383  Uz           Metin     13:12
17  9364  Bouchard     Gilles    13:13
17  6763  Elgood       Mark      13:13
19  6987  Gernez       Raphael   13:15
20  2468  Buntrock     Robert    13:16
20  5803  Homrighausen Mark      13:16
22  8063  Beckham      Jon       13:20
22  9464  Haidinyak    Grant     13:20
22  10176 Kaemmer      Brian     13:20
22  5120  Merritt      Greg      13:20
26  10180 Estes        Ronald    13:25
26  9422  Johnson      Matt      13:25
28  5285  Berka        Becky     13:26
29  10353 Connelly     Daniel    13:28
30  7601  Eng          Carlin    13:29
30  8427  Namara       Yogy      13:29
32  9239  Beringhele   Dan       13:30
32  7245  Friedly      Gabrielle 13:30
32  5901  Schwartz     Barry     13:30
35  2777  Salyer       Kevin     13:42
35  10325 Vu           Tom       13:42
37  5318  Budvytis     Gintautas 13:45
37  5726  Fitzpatrick  Matthew   13:45
37  2879  Hastings     Geoffrey  13:45
37  9932  Laucys       Jonas     13:45
37  5343  Placiakis    Vidas     13:45
42  7789  Goodell      Andrew    13:51
43  8359  Bailey       Chris     13:53
44  9052  Funk         Tobias    13:58
45  7251  Burke        Michael   14:11
45  3502  Burke        Sarah     14:11
45  7247  Larsen       Eric      14:11
45  6130  Walker       David     14:11
49  6949  Carlson      Drew      14:20
49  9906  Wesley       Edward    14:20
51  9452  Nohlin       Erik      14:25
51  3971  Norris       Eric      14:25
53  4072  Bloomfield   Michael   14:29
54  4841  Duque        Carlos    14:30
54  913   Fritze       Christian 14:30
54  8254  Iwakami      Naoki     14:30
54  6727  Law          Todd      14:30
54  9218  Ogawa        Shumpei   14:30
54  6789  Russell      Nancy     14:30
54  1907  Shoemaker    Ken       14:30
54  8158  Tajima       Toshi     14:30
62  3321  Smith        Ron       14:34
63  5423  Chun         Brian     14:39
64  5844  Auriemma     Philip    14:42
64  6103  McCumber     Kaley     14:42
66  7588  Green        Bill      14:45
67  4318  Gilmore      John      14:54
68  9505  Cowan        Scott     14:59
69  10201 Morehouse    Ryan      15:09
70  4679  Ehlert       Gabe      15:11
70  6017  Kizu-Blair   Ian       15:11
70  8160  Walstad      Eric      15:11
73  1625  Holmgren     John      15:17
73  5640  Jordan       Mick      15:17
75  6435  Wenner       Brad      15:21
76  10249 Dodge        Renee     15:24
77  4006  Boutet       Jacques   15:29
77  9093  Johnston     Robert    15:29
79  1975  Moreels      Pierre    15:32
79  7050  Williams     Don       15:32
81  4269  Beato        Keith     15:36
81  6052  Clarkson     Bryan     15:36
81  5831  Haas         Stephen   15:36
81  3356  Haggerty     Tom       15:36
85  7679  Kaplan       Jonathan  15:50
86  9982  Au_Yeung     Tsun      15:51
87  8400  MacFarlane   Phil      15:52
88  8413  Lockwood     Robert    15:57
88  4640  Plumb        Alex      15:57
88  8324  Strickland   Andy      15:57
88  108   Vlasveld     Paul      15:57
92  345   Bradbury     Jim       16:08
93  9853  de_Andrade   Andrew    16:10
94  8431  Dietz        Joe       16:12
94  9205  Feinberg     Brian     16:12
94  7622  Sexton       Robert_B. 16:12
97  10081 Ching        Derek     16:34
98  9973  Brammer      Anton     16:36
99  2053  Cruz         Arturo    16:45
99  5784  Schroyer     Charles   16:45
101 8416  Fournier     Charles   16:46
102 9295  Goldenberg   Benjamin  16:48
102 9084  Kim          Ed        16:48
104 10237 Tam          Man-Fai   17:02
105 5186  Scott        Clayton   17:14
106 5464  Pierce       Jason     17:35
107 7319  Arnold       Megan     17:36
107 7241  Coleman      Juliayn   17:36
107 8283  Hatfield     Jenny_Oh  17:36
107 8930  Herlihy      Patrick   17:36
107 6380  Kilgore      Bryan     17:36
107 8074  Klein        Ann       17:36
107 6629  Primrose     Denise    17:36
107 7442  Prince       Steffan   17:36
115 9842  Mansfield    Frances   17:40
116 6500  Guzik        John      17:47
117 9391  Wilson       Adam      18:19
118 7102  Oei          Brian     18:23
118 7103  Pham         Irving    18:23
120 none  Crespo       Nelson    18:36
121 7596  Lloyd        Eileen    18:44
122 9839  Bowles       Shawn     19:19
122 10500 Smith        Preston   19:19
124 none  Zandi        Neda      19:34
125 none  Nichols      Nathaniel 19:35
126 2815  Gross        Joe       19:44


1 comment:

Patrick Gordis said...

Truly a masterpiece! I loved your characterization of Petaluma/Santa Rosa and city sized Safeway parking lots!

On my very occasional rides in that general area (Marin Century, Terrible Twos and a brevet or two), I have definitely experienced more "pickup truck" rage and general bizarre hostility towards cyclists than anywhere else I've ridden in the greater Bay Area. And I mean the totally unprovoked variety where a driver spews obscenities and/or nearly clips you out of the blue.

Glad you made it back safely in the dark!