Memories of a Mono Lake Century
by David Wimpfheimer
Editor’s note: For many years the 350-mile Los Angeles to Mono Lake Bike-a-Thon was the Committee’s premier fundraising and athletic event. Beginning last year, we trimmed the ride to a short 100-mile Century ride on local roads. Here, cyclist Dave Wimpfheimer recalls last year’s Century ride. If you feel inspired to ride, we’re doing the Century again on September 13 of this year, and there are still spots available!
Although I had ridden in many Mono Lake Bike-a-Thons I had mixed feelings of doubt and confidence as I started the Century ride last year. The former were compounded by the large amount of smoke in the Mono Basin, a result of the fires that raged on the western side of Yosemite. At least when a number was pinned to my back I felt official and pedaled south along the quiet Main Street of Lee Vining at 7:45 am.
As I rode south on Highway 395, I could just barely see the Mono Craters to the left and the glacial canyons of the Sierra to the right. I couldn’t stay with Jim and realized that unlike the camaraderie of a Bike-a-Thon, I would be riding this one mostly alone. It felt strange not having my camera and binoculars along, but with so many miles I knew I didn’t need that extra weight nor the temptation to pause and look at any birds along the way.
I labored up the newly constructed lanes of 395, still closed to vehicles. At least most of the smoke was now behind me and the sky was the intense mountain blue color that the Eastern Sierra produces in the late summer. Two "hotshot" riders passed me and I knew instinctively that I was the last rider. My hope was that the incredible natural beauty of the area would be strong enough to distract me from the tiredness of my body and allow me to complete the ride.
Actually I was feeling pretty good as I climbed slowly up to Deadman Summit. Because of my speed—or lack of it—I was able to hear and enjoy the sounds of mountain chickadees, pygmy nuthatches, red crossbills, and other birds. It was strange to think that I had ridden up to the summit from the other direction eleven times before on the last day of past Bike-a-Thons.
At the summit I thought of group photos and cross country ski tours, but mostly felt relief at the clear air ahead. And what a view it was. The nearby volcanic cones of Wilson and Obsidian buttes led my eye up to San Joaquin Ridge and then I traced a line south to Mammoth Mountain and southeast to Mt. Morrison.
I sped down to the first SAG (rest) stop after 18 miles and was very happy to rest and stuff bananas, muffins, and liquids into my body. Going south to the Mammoth exit there was some up and down—fortunately more of the latter—but there was also a moderate head wind that reduced my pace to a crawl. I had figured that I would need to average at least 12 mph to finish the ride decently, but was doing less than that now. I passed George who had a flat tire and felt a psychological boost that I was no longer the last person. He and I would do a "tortoise and hare" kind of ride for the next 80 miles.
As I neared the Mammoth exit, the wind was blowing straight at me from the mountain, and then splitting to the north and south. In the space of less than a minute the headwind turned into a fantastic tailwind and soon I was doing 20 mph and passing the airport. It was great to have the wind in my favor and at that rate I was soon at the green church and turning off the highway.
It was wonderful to be on a small, quiet road as the tailwind blew me east away from the Sierra. I sneaked a look back to the dramatic, folded metamorphic rock above Convict Lake. The road pointed straight at Glass Mountain and its flat, dark surface contrasted boldly with a border of brightly blooming orange rabbitbrush. Nearby meadows reminded me of soaks in the hot springs and birds that I had seen over the years.
The fantastic scenery and tailwind inspired me and gave me a confidence that I might just be able to do this challenging ride. I crossed over the Owens River and turned to the south. The Sierra was now to my right and stretched from McGee Creek south past Mt. Tom. I ate part of a Powerbar as I rode over the bumpy road.
Soon the road turned east again. I realized that I hadn’t been on it in about ten years. I knew I had to climb up to the next SAG stop, but fortunately it wasn’t too hot and there were hardly any cars. I had time to examine every bush and rock. It was quiet, very quiet. A sage thrasher flew across the road past me. At last the yellow sign with the bike symbol showed me that I had made it.
It was wonderful to rest my body and devour a cheese and turkey sandwich. Thank you Pete, King of the SAGs. I still had more than 50 miles to go, but with six hours left, I figured that I should be able to make it.
The recently paved road gave me a great roller coaster ride as I descended 600 feet. Too bad I just had to gain it again as I climbed up to Wildrose Summit. Near the top I passed George again and told him to look back and enjoy the view: peaks of the Sierra extending south of Bishop. Then I gazed ninety degrees to the east where the White Mountains loomed closer and even larger. A dense forest of piñon pine carpeted the hillsides near the pass; I wondered what birds might be around, but knew there was no time for that and sped downhill rapidly into Adobe Valley.
Glass Mountain was now to the south. I focused on how the rabbitbrush and sagebrush blended into dense forested slopes of pine and aspen. A road sign read "dips next five miles." It was a strange feeling to crawl up one side at six mph, attack the top and then go zooming down the other side at 28 mph.
Then came the hardest part of the ride for me. I had to go up 1600 feet in ten miles against a moderate headwind having already pedaled over 70 miles. At least there were things to look at: a road cut through rhyolitic rock, more views of Glass Mountain, and then the Granite Peaks. I knew the distance I had to go to Sagehen Summit, but it was a long uphill. Finally I crawled to the top, a SAG, and friends.
After more fruit and drinks, and a short rest, I thrilled to the long descent into the Mono Basin. There wasn’t much smoke or wind. I flew through a stand of Jeffrey pines below the Mono Craters and soon was at the last SAG. This was my first view of the lake since the morning. From a spot I’ve camped and birded in over the years, it looked more beautiful than ever.
Only a little bit of uphill near Panum Crater remained although there were more headwinds than I wanted to cope with. At last I turned north onto 395 with five miles to go. The wind was at my back and I figured "I’ve got this one in the bag." The late afternoon sun’s rays lit up Mono Pass to the west. From past Bike-a-Thons I knew exactly the last climb up to the intersection with Highway 120 followed by that exquisite coast into town and back to the high school.
This was an incredibly scenic, challenging and fulfilling ride. I hope I can do it again in September 1997.
Dave Wimpfheimer was an early Committee staffer and is a veteran supporter. We hope to see him out on the road again for this year’s Century ride. Contact us at 760-647-6595 if you want to be part of the event!
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