It was 7:50PM.
The group of 29 riders left promptly at 8 after taking the sacred Randonneur oath. The first climb sorted us into different pace groups. We had five: Ann, Denise, Ed, Eileen and me.
We passed the oil refineries in Crockett. It smells better at night, or it was the wind.... Crossing the new Carquinez Straights bridge was a treat in the dark: far less traffic noise and less wind than in daylight. I was surprised to see people walking it at 8:30. Where could they possibly be going? Perhaps they thought the same of a cadre of neon lit, reflectorized and redundantly illuminated cyclists who passed by with a friendly "on your left."
Our next town was the badlands of Vallejo. Poor roads cutting through an older depressed shopping district. Although: Royal Jelly Donuts. Do they think it means what I think it means?
A few minutes later and we turned onto Columbus parkway: a left and immediately up. It was here that I discovered I may have overdressed. As we climbed, I heard a rustle to my left. A surprised raccoon crouched and stared from behind a wire fence, while trying to interpret the sights and sounds of five bicycles and their humans.
Lake Herman road is so pretty in the daytime with steep golden hills and happy California cows. An initial climb is followed by a fun descent which morphs into rollers and a final pop to the top. From there, you can see Suisun Bay, what remains of the mothball fleet and a refinery in the distance. At night, the colors muted to greys in the moonlight and the sodium vapor lights shimmered on the refinery towers. The road surface is spotty, however, so the downhills were approached more cautiously than in full sun.
We turned north onto Lopes. The first 100 yards or so is sheltered by a knoll. We turned the bend and were hit with it: headwind. A sturdy one with some nice cross gusts to keep us honest. Or swearing. Lopes is only about 8 miles, but felt longer due to the wind and knowing that we would soon be at our first control. Food! Caffeine!
We found some fellow randos at the first control. Hi-dee Ho's exchanged, they pulled out as we got organized. Receipts to be gained, body fluids to be lost/replaced and a little nutrition to keep us going til the next control.
Our next control was just outside Cordelia. The trail of breadcrumbs from faster randos began here. Most of a jug of water was left for the followers. We didn't dawdle - our next control was at the turn around at the Safeway in Davis.
Passing through Cordelia, we at last left the suburbs and industrial/office parks and were now riding rural. A deer started on our left and raced in the field ahead of us, allowing distance to cross safely in front of us. Good Bambi! My thoughts briefly visited other wildlife that had crossed in front of me on other rides: bear, fox, coyote...
Riding at night is timeless. There are few external cues to mark the passage of time. Shadows don't shorten and then lengthen. The light doesn't transform from soft to harsh and back to soft again. Cows aren't waiting at the gate for the grain delivery.
The moon follows our turns and migrates slowly across the sky. We felt that it was getting fuller as the night progressed. We couldn't see our computers. We rode off the grid. We went as fast as we wanted without the pressures of maintaining a certain speed, although we weren't riding slowly. At times my quads felt fatigued from the pace but then there would be some relief. Each little dip and ride presented a new nano climate. Warm, cool, cold! The cool air kept us alert. Ed was a good sport and pulled us through much of the wind.
When we arrived at the turn-around, I was surprised to discover it was 1;45AM. Time passes even in timelessness. Of course riding nearly 40 miles takes time, but mentally, it was still 11:30PM, just as it was when I last looked at my Garmin at the last control, in the way that you forget children continue to grow even though you haven't seen them in a few years.
At the Safeway, the Rando Fairies had left us part of a package of cookies. Life was good. I diagnosed what was rubbing on my wheel and Denise came to the rescue with a zip tie to button down my light cable. Ed scored some twist ties from the produce department - how was it that he saw them and I never did??
We embarked, stopping a few times to check the route sheet. Are we going the right way?
A large heavy winged bird crossed in flight ahead of us. "An owl!" I exclaimed. It landed on a telephone pole above us and peered down. I shined my headlamp on it. Ed said, "You saw that?" "Um, yeah. I'm always birding when I bike." I replied. It was too dark to identify and it never made a call. And I don't know my owls very well....
Passing by Winters on Putah Creek Road, I remember back to the first time I rode it. How miserable I was. Exhausted and a little peeved and no doubt bonking. It was five years ago when I was first returning to cycling. At the time I had ridden 30 miles and was tuckered out. Tonight, I felt pretty perky despite the hour and the miles already in my legs. Mentally, I acknowledged my progress.
Meanwhile, the same demons follow. We have to ride back Lopes Road in that wind! We have to ride Lake Herman Road into a headwind! When is the next control? Okay, I'm whining. I must need to eat.
We began speculating where we might be when the sun came up. But first, a Bio-break. Who needs one? Ed was a little ahead so we elected to stop. We were riding on Pleasants Valley Road; it was about 4:30AM. We hadn't seen a car in about an hour. We pulled over to a wide spot on the roadside that wasn't someone's front yard. We heard a rumble. Saw lights. Right then, our hands poised on our respective waist bands to get ready to let fly, a large pickup slows. I thought he might pull into the shoulder to see if we were okay. Ann! Your bike! She pulled it out of harm's way. The driver slowed and then drove off.
What are the odds? A road empty for hours and the one time you want a little privacy in the darkness...
We reached Cordelia. I craved an Egg-type sandwich. You know which kind. Ann mentioned a breakfast "burrito" at 7-11. I stayed with the group. I looked longingly at the Denny's. We each devoured a dry and tasteless burrito of a non-breakfast variety. Yum. I continued to look longingly at the Denny's. The Rando Fairies have left us water and a Mexican Coke!
The moon has set over the western hills. Now at Lopes Road, we were getting the same head/cross winds we had eight hours earlier. Ann worried about the headwinds on Lake Herman Road. "We'll do it no matter what," I said. Ann replied, "But one way it won't suck."
And we got through Lopes Road. And it wasn't as bad as I had been dreading. And we got through Lake Herman Road and it wasn't as bad as Ann had been dreading. And now we reversed our course through the badlands of Vallejo in the donzerly light. People were starting their Sunday as we finished our Saturday. At the end of the Carquinez Bridge, we met some cyclists waiting for their ride group. 'Morning! Did they think we were just starting out, I wonder, as we chugged up the hill to the Vista Point.
It's frustrating to hit a bunch of red lights on the home stretch.
But then we pulled into the parking lot where Kimber and Bruce had fresh coffee and fresher donuts waiting for us, the Lanterne Rouge.
I can't wait til next year!
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