Solvang, California: Training Camp Day One

I was fed up with the endless snow, cold and dullness of the mid-Atlantic this winter. So I got on a plane and came out to southern California to ride without thick gloves, without knickers, without 9 layers of clothes. Two days in and it's been great. My legs are exhausted, my body is cracking and I'm just getting warmed up.

The first day we set out on a path from where we were staying in Los Olivos down Refugio Rd and over to the coast. Before the base of the climb over the coastal mountains we came across a 60-year old man on a mountain bike. After we told him our route he asked if we had cross tires on our bikes. He kept warning that the road was closed and that it was all dirt on the way up. That gave us no pause.

About five miles in to the climb it became paved again right at the summit. Prior to that it was a mountain bike course. Most of our time was spent picking through the wet rocks. Thankfully and painfully our way was being led by a pro mountain biker. At the top we paused for a few minutes to dress for the descent and eat some food. The 60-year old came up the same path at the time and said that we must all be pros because we chose the best lines through the rocks. I didn't have the strength to tell him that it was just survival instinct for me.

The mud climb paid off in a great view of the Pacific Ocean and the channel islands beyond. The decent was gnarly and technical. I rode the breaks because the longest straight stretch was about 200 meters long. It dumped us off on the 101 right along the beach. We rode tempo into Goleta before turning our attention upwards over the San Marco pass.

San Marco pass gave way to Painted Cave Rd which 3000 feet above the nearby ocean started to cap out with these indian cave drawings. By this point in time I had been climbing for about 45 minutes. Despite standing there staring at the sign for about 5 minutes I have no idea what it said. At the top of the climb we came across a small community. In the driveway of one of these houses was a hippy holding his dog in his hands. As we passed by him he commented to the people standing next to him that "they say the path to peace lies through suffering." An unpleasant thought directed at him crossed through my mind at that point in time.

We rode along the ridge line above Santa Barbara for a while looking for a way down and then came upon this road. The one thing about google maps is that they don't distinguish between paved roads and their less paved counterparts; or in this case a road that really didn't exist at all. At the top of this road was a makeshift shooting range while at the bottom was trailer park. We road down 7.2 miles along what was in reality a horse path (complete with hoove marks) which at times had more grass on it than dirt. After reaching the bottom we decided to make a straight line for homebase.