Story and Photos by Kyle Sparks S a Photographer, My Career Week Was Cycling
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All We Do Is Ride Uphill Story and photos by Kyle Sparks s a photographer, my career week was cycling. With this thought in my another section of grass out of the sprin- has taken me to the far mind, I jumped onto the back of the pack kler’s reach — and then back to sleep. reaches of the world on and kept pushing pedals. Then another attack came more quickly several occasions. But none Brian, Rob, and I pedaled through the and forcefully. At this point, I was done of my experiences abroad fields of Oxnard and Ventura. These nice, moving around. I just covered my face compare to a recent cycling flat roads have great bike lanes. We knew with my sleeping bag, hoping someone Atrip — pedaling through my home state, that soon enough the flat roads would else would deal with the problem. Luckily straight uphill. This idea spawned from give way to our first major climb — Pine Rob was on it in seconds, jamming the stories of a trip my dad went on in 1976. Mountain, 5,080 feet. After a right turn in sprinkler’s movement with a large stick. He rode his bicycle across the U.S. from Ventura, we started up. With the sprinkler issue resolved, we Oxnard, California, to Millinocket, Maine. The Ventura River bike path is 11 miles drifted back into a deep sleep. In the morn- A couple of good friends, Brian Mich and 700 feet of elevation gain from Ventura ing, we’d make our apologies for disrupting and Rob Thompson, and I embarked on to Ojai. Growing up, I rode on this bike path their watering schedule. an eight-day journey from Camarillo, often. It used to leave me exhausted every California, to the highest pass in the Sierra time I rode it. This time, however, that path Day Two: mountain range. We explored the regions didn’t faze me in the least. It was 10 am and Our ride started before dawn, avoiding that define California’s wilderness by rid- already 80 degrees. After our brief stop in the extreme heat we were sure to hit in ing through Lockwood Valley, Los Padres Ojai, the group was back on the road, this the Central Valley. Much longer and flat- National Forrest, Carrizo Plain, Central time on Route 33, climbing toward Pine ter than the previous day’s ride, we rode Valley, Kings Canyon, Sequoia National Eating and scheming. While the guys refuel, one of them doesn’t seem sold on the plan. Mountain. We could feel the weight of single file toward Bakersfield, stopping Park, and Yosemite National Park. our panniers. I had been standing out of only once to fix a flat tire a few hours Brian was in charge of finding roads for the “This looks really hard, and I hope you like Brian was awake, but still lying in bed. the saddle for a few miles when Rob rode into the day. This would be my first of 12 ride, and he decided to make it a “fun” bike riding uphill.” He looked at me with eyes Rob looked at me like I just kicked over beside me, singing at the top of his lungs. flats during the tour. Several hours later, tour by aiming to ride uphill as much as pos- that said, “you are going to regret this,” his bike; he was angry. He rolled over and Rob was still comfortably seated, using his we arrived in Bakersfield, overheated and sible. This probably was in line with Brian’s and walked back over to the couch to finish tried to fall back asleep. I told them that easiest gear and spinning away. Meanwhile, in need of shade and time off our bikes. “Type II” fun motto: “Not always immedi- drinking his ice-cold beer. I had made coffee and it was ready in the I was pushing my road bike hard. With a We ended up at a Chinese restaurant and ately fun, but almost always fun later.” kitchen. It was a total lie. I don’t even drink double chain ring and nine-speed cassette, quickly burned through several plates of What goes up must come down, right? Day One coffee. Hot chocolate, sure, but coffee? Not the bike is not ideal for touring, but I was food. We then rested for a bit in the shade When I mentioned the proposed route to Time to ride. I got up, stumbled around a chance. Nonetheless, Rob crawled out of determined to make it work. We both start- of some trees. my dad, he glanced over the plan and said, in the darkness, and woke Brian and Rob. bed. When he found out that coffee was ed singing to pass the time while climbing simply bait to wake him, he grunted and up the scorching ascent toward Rose Valley. Day Three: put a pot on. After the final packing, we After a few hours of climbing, we pulled We rode 104 miles through the heat, said our goodbyes to Brian’s family, telling off the highway for a water stop. It was from Kern River to Three Rivers. I was them that we would see them in Tahoe in nearly sunset as we reached the summit of given the nickname, “Tipping Rock.” I a week. the first big climb. had fallen over twice because I was unable Spirits were high as we pedaled down Camping out that night in the green to unclip from my pedals when we came the roads of Camarillo. I led the group. We grass of a firehouse right off Highway to a stop. Tipping Rock now joined Riding hadn’t been on the road more than five 33 seemed like a great idea. This area is Bear (Rob) and Napping Pony (Brian) in the minutes before a car laid on its horn. Next, primarily dry, with desert-like landscape. river to cool off and mentally prepare for a little blue convertible pulled up next to Why the firehouse had a well-manicured the next day of riding. me with the driver waving frantically. The lawn was not our concern. After a quick later, we awoke to the dreaded sound of driver turned out to be my mom, waving dinner, we laid out the ground tarp under sprinklers. We were under attack by the Day Four: goodbye as she drove to work. The guys the night sky, put our pads and bags down, firehouse’s irrigation system. The group The group woke in a funk, setting the had a good laugh about that and we con- and quickly fell asleep. About 20 minutes quickly mobilized and moved the tarp to stage for some difficult riding. A light tinued to ride through Camarillo toward Oxnard and the Pacific Ocean. We made a quick stop at my house across town to get more tubes and say goodbye to my dad and little brother. I resumed my position at the front of the group, and soon heard another car blasting its horn. This time it was my ex-girlfriend, who I had broken up with two days before. She was the last person I wanted to see, as I was still a bit emotional about the breakup. I pulled off the front of the paceline as Rob rode up next to me. He said, “Kyle, you have 800 miles and eight days to sort this out, buddy; for now just ride it out.” In truth, all I had to think about for the next 12 adventure cyclist august/september 2010 adventurecycling.org adventure cyclist august/september 2010 adventurecycling.org 13 mist and rain clouds filled the sky. Plus, Day Seven: we had a very tough climb in front of us After a few more hours of climbing, we called “The General’s Highway.” We want- Nuts & Bolts: California Hills reached the tunnel into Yosemite Valley, a ed to ride 80 miles through the park, but sight I have seen many times before, but the steep incline, pouring rain, and Rob’s When to go: September is the best Yosemite National Park, then descended never from the seat of a bike. We ended swelling right ankle set us back. month to do this particular ride. Keep in to Mono Lake. To find our route, we used up following a large group of construction We had just one choice: Embrace the mind that it can be extremely hot coming a California state road map that is avail- vehicles through the tunnel, which was pain and keep on making progress up the across the Central Valley and near freez- able at all AAA offices and most California nice because we knew that no other cars mountain because this was the route we ing at night in the mountains. Even though bookstores or gas stations. When we were going to come up from behind or in had chosen. After some debate, we decided the temperature varies, September is still entered the state and national parks, we front as we rode into the darkness. that our original goal of Lake Tahoe was the best time to go because the chances also picked up maps at the ranger stations. We emerged from the tunnel side-by- unobtainable. That night we air-dried our of encountering snow in the mountains or Our route often co-incided with Adventure side with raised arms and smiles that went gear in a laundry room while playing card unbearable heat in the valley are lower. Cycling’s Sierra Cascades Bicycle Route from ear to ear.