Started at my house
Temescal Canyon road ride to Indian Truck Trail
Up Indian Truck Trail to Main Divide
Up Main Divide to Santiago Peak
Down Main Divide to Bedford Road
Down Bedford, through the orange groves back to my house.
Everyone met at my house around 7:00 am, including a couple of new faces. Jeff, who I only rode with once before, invited a couple of friends to come along. Which was totally cool because this past week a bunch of people backed out for one reason or another and I thought for sure that nobody was going to show.
John and Mike pulled up shortly after Jay and introduced themselves. Totally cool guys. Jeff warned me that John was a hard-core rider and rides like 5 times a week. So John starts talking about doing this ride in the middle chain ring, and I'm thinking - Okay he's definitely with the wrong crowd, but oh well, let's see how it goes.
Everyone else shows up one-by-one, eating their Jack in the Box breakfast and getting ready for the big ride. Bob finally shows up and we shove off around 7:45.
All together it was:
Me
Joe
Brian
Steve
Bob
Jay
Jeff
Jeff Jr.
John
Mike
The road ride on Temescal Canyon was a subtle incline, but we went way too fast. This was supposed to be a mellow warmup, but I had to stay in front of the pack to direct everyone. Everyone else kept passing me, so the whole group just went too fast. At this point, Jay already blew his load.
Climbing up Indian Truck Trail was nice and steady. It was interesting to see all the ancient Indian furniture on the side of the road. I'm sure that La-Z-Boy was comfortable in a tee pee at some point.
As we started the climb, Mike asks "So how far are we going?"
"All the way to the peak!" Apparently he got the email, but failed to read it. Details.
Jay started to fall back, so Steve and I waited up for him and harassed him into keep climbing. "Come on Jay, it just around that corner." Hee heee... works every time. Just before Holy Jim Trail, he threw in the towel and turned around. He probably could've went down Holy Jim to get to his house, but his truck was still at my house.
At this point, everyone was way ahead except for me, Steve and Jeff (Jeff probably had 50 extra pounds of equipment on him, including a GPS device, a walkie talkie, an MP3 player, a Hamm Radio and enough water for both him and his son). I pulled ahead slightly, and was so tired I could've sworn I saw the Indian Truck pass me by with a real life Indian smoking a pipe in the drivers seat. I looked at him, he looked at me and said "how". I blinked, shook my head and he was gone. Dehydration perhaps? They say nobody ever saw the Indian Truck and lived to tell about it, so I started to worry a little and considered it a true hallucination.
By the time I reached the top everyone was cursing at me and giving me high-fives at the same time. It was a little awkward to say the least. But I, along with everyone else, felt a great sense of accomplishment to bag the peak. I don't know what it is that keeps us coming back to these torturous rides because during the ride we think "what the fuck are we doing?" then once we reach the top we're like "hey, can't wait to do it again!". It's a very strange, unexplainable phenomenon and it happens e v e r y - s i n g l e - t i m e.
I've been up to Santiago Peak once before, but from the Orange County side. This was the first time from my house, which I've been wanting to do every since I moved to Corona two years ago.
Now comes the fun part... the downhill ride. Mike and I pulled up front for most the ride, until I got a flat. From that point on, it was flat after flat after flat. I got two, but changing my second one resulted in another because of a bad stem, so I used 3 tubes total. Similar thing happened to Joe with 3 tubes, but he had some kind of mysterious hole in one of his and Brian was determined to find it come hell or high water. He blew it up to the size of a truck tire but to no avail. He was getting so pissed.
The wierdest flat was Jeff Jr's. As we were waiting for Joe and Brian, Jeff Jr was just standing there... let me repeat... just STANDING there with his bike for a good 20 minutes. Then he said, "Do you guys here that?" We didn't hear anything. Then all of a sudden... 'psssssssssss s s s s' His tire flattens right in front of us. Very strange... Did this have anything to do with the Indian Truck I saw? Hmmm...
Steve started the crash sessions with a flying-leap-over-the-handle-bars-into-the-rocks-with-a-flat-tire-to-boot-trick. Very impressive. Mike crashed and racked up his knee to get the "Most Bloodiest Crash" award... until I crashed. I felt a little bad because there wasn't enough action going on for this ride so I saved my crash right until the very end. I crashed pretty good and ended up with blood dripping down my leg to take over the award.
We then returned to my house for some well-deserved burgers and dogs and very tasty beverages.
Everyone's computer said something different, but Jeff's GPS device seemed to be the most reliable. Here are his stats and images (Thanks a bunch Jeff):
Distance: 33.76 miles
Lowest Point: 889'
Highest Point: 5622'
Total Elevation Gain: 6138'
Ride Time: 4.5 hours average
Total Time: 8.5 hours
Flat Tires: 9
Crashes: 3
