Desperado Dual
Background:
Both my brother and I are constantly looking for fun ways to meet up with each other. He lives in Salt Lake City, UT, and I live in Phoenix, AZ. The past two years we have been meeting in Tempe, AZ, for the SOMA Quarterman Triathlon. A couple months ago we decided to kick it up a notch and ride in a century bike ride. We both decided to ride in the Desperado Dual, a 106-mile loop through some breathtaking scenery.
One week before the race I received a phone call from my brother and he stated that he would not be able to participate in the ride. I was disappointed that I was not going to be hanging out with him over the weekend.
I had already paid for the event, so there was no way I was going to eat the hard earned $45 I laid down for registration. About 1-minute after hearing the bad news from my brother I called up Josh (my brother-in-law), and asked him if he would like to go on a nice bike ride. I tried to stay clear of letting him know the distance, but eventually he asked and I had to tell him. After I let him know it was over one hundred miles the line went silent. About a minute past before he responded saying that he would if he only had a road bike. “Gotcha,” I said to myself. I told him I would have my brother drop off his road bike and helmet later that night. Josh went on to say that he had only ridden a road bike one other time in his life and that was a 28-mile ride on flat terrain. I went on to tell him that if he can ride 28 miles the he certainly could go 106. With that he reluctantly said yes.
Getting There:
I picked up two of my friends (John and Marcia) and we loaded the bikes, coolers, and camping gear into the truck and headed out on our seven-hour journey that would pass through northern Arizona and into a town called Panguitch in central Utah. The new truck ran great and fit all of our gear easily even with the new shell over the bed. We were all grateful the shell was on the truck because it rained off and on throughout the entire day.
We stopped to fill up the truck in Page, AZ, and ate lunch at the local Denny’s. The three of us took about a fifteen-minute break to admire the beauty of Lake Powell and the Glen Canyon Dam.
Three hours later we arrived at what would be out base camp for the weekend, the Panguich KOA. We met up with my parents, and my sister, and her husband, (my brother-in-law) Josh. Everyone stayed in little clean cabins besides John and Marcia, they decided to blow up an inflatable mattress and sleep in their tent.
The Race:
Or should I say ride? Yes, let’s call it a ride, because we certainly did not feel like racing anyone. The only thing racing on this day would be my heart rate. The race started at 7:00am sharp. We started at 7:12am sharp! That’s right; we started the ride late and never made up that lost time.
The first five miles were flat and I was doing OK. Then a hill came along, and I mean a big hill, and I got dropped. I suck at fighting gravity and going up hills. This is a weakness of mine and I know that I need to improve on the hills if I want to become even an average cyclist. The hill kept going and going, I mean this thing seemed to last forever. Finally 22 miles later I reached the summit at almost 8,000 feet of elevation.
My parents and Jodie were waiting at the summit with water and plenty of encouragement. It was great to see them there; they were a great help and kept me moving forward. The next stop was almost another 40 miles down the road; it was a long 40 miles. I did my best to keep the cadence in the mid 70’s, which is a comfortable pace tempo for me. Any lower then that and it takes a toll on my knees, any higher and I get winded. As I tried my best to keep my heart rate at 148 bpm and my cadence in the mid 70’s, I watched my three companions slowly pull away until they were out of site. The ride was through some amazing country with bright colors in the rock and the trees. I was really enjoying the ride past Bryce Canyon and the miles started to disappear one by one without much effort. The route goes through a steep narrow canyon called Black Canyon and I was able to reach 43 mph! That was awesome.
At mile 60 I stopped at the rest station and grabbed some water and had half of a muffin to get some much needed carbs in me. I could feel that I was starting to fatigue a little. I realized that I was now over half way through the ride and thought I could mentally break up the ride into 2 rides, a 60 miler and a 46 miler. I only had the 46 miler to go! I thought that I could certainly go on a 46-mile ride, I had broken 40 several time before in the past. No problem.
Um… actually it was a big problem. The next twenty miles were into the wind and I really started to tire out. I could feel that my legs were toast, and I had no more energy. Mentally I was also getting exhausted, especially once I realized I was counting down the distance by tenths of a mile. The last two miles before the rest stop at mile eighty seemed to last forever.
When I pulled into the rest area and located my personal support crew, I placed my bike against the nearest tree and dropped to the ground. It felt so good to stop. I laid there on the grass for a couple minutes. I soon got to my feet and stumbled over to meet up with Josh, John, and Marcia. They had been waiting for me and were ready to take off again. I told them to go on ahead. I stayed at the rest stop with my support crew and had a banana and a sport drink. After about 20 minutes, I decided it was time to suffer through the last 26-miles of the challenging ride.
My ride did not last much longer. I rode (suffered) for another 9 miles and saw the “Team Tony” support vehicle about a half mile ahead. Fighting the wind my heart rate was at 177 bpm and my cadence could not break 50, even in the granny gear. There was absolutely nothing left in my legs. As I got closer to the support vehicle I found it harder and harder to even stay in a straight line, I began to zigzag along the shoulder of the highway. I was done.
I really wanted to complete the final 17 miles, but on this day it was not in the cards. I was both physically and mentally exhausted. I placed my bike into the support vehicle and we drove on down the road to cheer on the other three riders in our group. I was really impressed with Josh, this was only the second time he had been on a road bike and here he was completing a century. All three of them did a fantastic job. They ended up finishing the ride and we all met up for a much deserved lunch.
Thoughts:
A 106 mile ride is just that, a 106 mile ride. It is not 2 – 53 mile rides, or 4- 26.5 mile rides, or in my case a 60 and a 46 (29) mile ride. Nope, a 106 mile ride is a 106 mile ride. Lesson learned I guess.
Even though I was not able to complete the entire ride, I was still upbeat and positive about the experience as a whole. It was the most beautiful ride I have ever been on, and I was able to beat my previous distance record (54 miles) by over 44 miles! I was able to camp out for a couple days with my family and good friends for the weekend.
