Southern Inyo Double Double Day 2 – Death Valley
Race Report: Southern Inyo Double Double Day #2 (Death Valley)
Ridgecrest, CA
Where do you go to find men and women of legend that can inspire the world?
I thought about this as I was riding through the barren landscape on the way out to Death Valley National Park. I could feel my skin tingle with excitement and my mind come into a focused clarity as the thought flowed in. You find them in action in some of the most remote and isolated places in the world. You find legends in the deepest parts of places most of us would never go. They are doing medical work, rebuilding broken communities, in the fray of the fight against the atrocities and calamities of our time. You often don’t find athletes where you would think to look, but rather you find them in the last place you imagined or would send yourself out to.
As I think through my closest friends and mentors in ultra-endurance sports, I was laughing to myself at the places I run into them year after year. Whether it’s the starting line to events like Race Across America where they are competing or crewing for others, mountainsides heading either up or down, the Copper Canyons or Grand Canyon, and of course for the ultra running community our yearly gathering at the Born to Run Extravaganza.
After a full night sleep, my morning started at 4:00am. With Daylight savings time kicking into effect, I was even more grateful for the tailwind on the back quarter of the course yesterday saving me a few hours. I started at 5:00am with the group and made our way directly from Ridgecrest out towards Death Valley. As the day before, we had a headwind on our way out of town and up the first major climb on the US-395. As the morning wore on and we made our way up towards 4,000 feet I started to become highly in tune with exactly how cold it was becoming. I’m usually good in my t-shirt and shorts all the way down to about 40 degrees. This morning I had a thin jacket on and put my extra thick layer of socks over my gloves to keep my finger tips a little less cold. The first major aid station is about 40 miles into the ride and about 5 miles out from it I was told it was about 28 degrees. I can verify that it was likely below freezing as I started to be able to see my breath when exhaling, and my bare shins and legs begin to turn a bright reddish color from the cold wind passing over them for an extended period of time.
It was at this time that I called my wife Kristin and let her know of my error in preparation. I told her I was going to soft pedal it into the aid station and take a break there to warm up for a bit to limit the chance of injuring myself from pushing a bad hand. Those miles are what I like to call “bad time” where time slows down, pain level increases, anxiety about poor decisions start rattling your brain and you get frustrated with yourself that an error in judgement might pull you off the course for the day. I was able to get myself back in a good state of mind fairly quickly and started counting off each 10th of a mile and focusing on little achievements to get me through. When I arrived at the aid station I was helped by the volunteer with my odd request. “Do you mind turning on your van and letting me thaw out for 10 minutes with the heat”? He didn’t hesitate, so I took off my shoes, grabbed my extra socks and went over to the minivan to warm up and rub the coldness out of my legs. I had a great conversation with him and within 10 minutes I was good to go again. I could feel the heat of the day increasing and knew that I was back in action and ready to hit the course. We stayed on US-395 until about the 55-mile mark of the race and then took a right onto CA-136 West which led us all the way to the Death Valley National Park entrance. This section is just beautiful with the mountains rising and the clear view of the landscape all around. I was able to pace with a group of cyclists for about a dozen miles and even did a little drafting for a section which is something I rarely do and with how experienced of a cyclist I am I should really understand how to draft much more. One of the members of this group of cyclists was Kym Louie who was a Race Across the West finisher last year and is preparing for Race Across America in June.
After making the turn to stay onto CA-136 out toward the Death Valley sign there are a couple substantial climbs heading to the park entrance. The wind wasn’t too bad but noticeable at times and the thought hit me as I laughed to myself, “Life could be worse, I mean really you could be out in the desert with over 100 miles left to ride before you can call turn in for the night, with sunburn on your legs from the day before, a stomach ache from too many bagels and bananas, climbing up a hill in the heat of day with a headwind on your way to Death Valley”. I keep coming back to a saying that I am embracing this year through all of the on ramping leading to Uberman. “Mind over matter.” If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter, and honestly, I don’t mind how tough it gets. All of us on the course are going through similar trials and it’s our job to find a clear path through them. You don’t go to a race like Inyo Double Century looking for a comfortable ride, you’re looking to find adversity and to test your grit against whatever is thrown at you and to find a way through.
I passed Jen Orr as she was on her return trip, or rather I should say she went flying by me with a smile on her face leading the field with the next cyclist in the pack almost an hour back and looking fresh as a daisy. I’m continually impressed with her and Sara Cooper who are often beating out all the men on these races. In my opinion, these women are legendary cyclists that I would never count out of a race they are in. The Death Valley sign is about 90 miles into the course and I had a nice stop at the aid station with Dee Mann running it with a small crew of people. I met Dee, and her husband Robert in 2016 while I was training for RAAM and they are a part of the Adobo Velo cycling club which I keep seeing all over the place and is about the kindest most support group of people you could imagine.
The return trip was pretty much a love/hate relationship with the wind. The long ride back on the CA-136 was nice with the rolling downhills that we had just climbed up and finished up at the visitor station for a pit stop before taking a left onto the US-395 S for almost 60 miles. From this point on we had about 40 miles of fairly consistent head wind that if you let it just sucks the gas right out of you. My speed slowed dramatically and I managed to cover right around 145 miles at the 12 hour mark and again started to wonder if I was going to end up being on the course for over 17 hours if the wind persisted. Unlike the day before the wind stayed steady and those of us on route had no other option but to plod away one pedal stroke at a time. The last 10 miles on the US-395 is a steady downhill and with night rolling in around us and the almost full moon on the horizon it was a great way to head into the last stretch of the course. With about 30 miles to go I realized I had left my second primary light in the hotel room or it fell out of my bag so I was going to have to use my back up headlight which isn’t nearly as powerful. I put my primary on the remote charger and was on my way in less than ideal lighting conditions.
At 180 miles in I took the left onto Brown Road, which has almost no traffic, into the darkness towards Ridgecrest. From my small camping headlight I had probably 5% visibility and really trusted my instincts about the road surface and where I was on the roadway. This might seem treacherous but with all the years of cycling experience and knowing my ability level to navigate and react at night I was incredibly energized by the experience. It was such a beautiful evening, clear sky, reasonable temperature and I just soaked in the moments before finishing this incredible journey I had passed through the last few days.
As I exited onto Inyokern Road and the 9 miles to the finish I put my primary headlight back on and was amazed at how much it illuminated the path before me. The ride in was a good experience pushing the speed just a bit and being grateful that even with the trials of the weekend I felt like I could take a quick break and head right back out if I needed to, which is exactly what I’ll have to do in October and a relief to know that I’m getting close to the condition I’ll need to have and tap into when the time arises. To celebrate the finish, I ended up getting a vegetarian omelet and a few glasses of strawberry lemonade at the local Denny’s. I have a soft spot in my heart for Denny’s because my grandpa Parlan used to take my brothers and sisters there when we were kids, so it still has a nostalgia in my mind and is a definite go to location after a very long weekend in the desert.
I leave this weekend feeling mentally spent, full of hope, community connection, and a renewed passion to keep pressing on and staying the course. You don’t go into the desert to find an easy experience, you go to build yourself through adversity – and the races that Hugh Murphy puts on with such grace never disappoint!
