Panoche, CA
March 24, 2019
By Jennifer Schwarz
I woke to the sounds of owl hoots and bird chirps. Cozy in bed with my eyes still closed, I smiled. I was in the middle of nowhere, while only a mere 30 second roll to the start line from my cabin’s porch. “Nowhere” was Mercey Hot Springs in Panoche, CA and it served as the base for Murphy Mack’s SuperPro Panoche Desert Hills gravel event. The Panoche Hills are a low-elevation, dramatic mountain range between I-80 and Highway 101 a little south of Los Baños. Much of the land through which this course goes is owned by the Bureau of Land Management. The terrain is so unique and dramatic: no trees, barely any bushes, and double track dirt roads that go straight up and over steep pitches of hill after hill after hill after hill.
We staged on the grassy airstrip. People were on a mix of gravel/cross bikes and mountain bikes; mountain bikes being more advantageous for the steep ascents and technical descents but drop bar bikes and gearing preferable for the flat portions. Everyone is going to hike a bike at some point. I was on my Santa Cruz Stigmata CC with knobby 40 mm tires. It was my first ride that would really put my new clutch rear derailleur to the test. I scanned the field for my friends and competition. While there weren’t many women there, the ones who showed up were all physically strong and mentally tough: my Team Mike’s Bike’s Women teammate, Eileen (who took second in her age category at the Lake Sonoma Hopper the prior day - boo-yaa!), JL Velo’s Victoria Rainbolt (Panoche Desert Hills veteran and dedicated crusher), and Roaring Mouse’s Dana Kuper (sub-9-hour Leadville finisher). Murphy made some call-ups, told us words of caution, suggested the newbies to follow those of us who’d ridden the course before, hopped in his vehicle, and led us out to start the adventure.
I love this course. There are two really hilly sections divided by a grid of flat, orchard land, followed by another hill that levels out onto a plateau at 19 miles to go, a kick up over a saddle, and a flowing descent to the finish.
The first climb seems unassuming, snaking upward with the contours of the hillside at a pretty steady and reasonable grade. It’s washboardy, so everybody is changing lines, as the bumps are always lesser on the other side. I know this is the only climb on which I’ll be able to get into a rhythm. Everything else is punchier, steeper, shorter, and more technical. Victoria hits it hard and stays ahead of me for most of the climb. Dana is around me for a bit but then falls behind. I close in on Victoria toward the top, and hear her tell the guy with whom she’s riding that she’s gotta go. We ride together and chat. I’m hopeful that we settle into the same pace and can keep each other company all day. She sits on my wheel, and I’m happy to set the pace rather than chase. Well, the climb turns out to be longer than I recalled; I didn’t have a real-time elevation profile because I’d forgotten to download the course to my Garmin. I hold my effort and repeatedly jog my memory of what comes next as each curve exposes a little more expansive terrain. At some point, I look back and realize neither Dana nor Victoria is in sight. Certain Dana is going to catch up to me as the course gets more technical and Victoria if my will to work peters out, I tell myself not to let up and use my course knowledge to pace and push myself at the right times and look around to appreciate the views.
Dirt conditions were perfect, and I was stoked to be able to keep my momentum from the downhills and ride all the way up more of the steep hill pitches in the first hilly section than I could the prior year. The grass was tall and green on the sweeping, magic carpet descent. Orchard trees had blossoms, the ground was washboardy, and I raced through this section picking up others and then hanging onto wheels for dear life while not getting stung by any motivational bees. I took a gamble on a couple water crossings through which I couldn’t see the bottom and came out upright on the other side.
After the orchard, I rode solo the rest of the race. I correctly navigated the course, following arrows drawn on paper plates, which led me past children on Sunday morning target practice without getting shot. Patches on the second hilly section were vibrant yellow in superbloom; other buds were about to burst. As instructed on another paper plate to “send it” down a particularly fast descent, I opened it up and…braaaaap...didn’t drop my chain! Then, it was back to up and down and up and down and up and down. I pushed my bike, trudging up the steepest of these pitches. I could see for miles in every direction. Other racers on the hills in front and behind me looked like lonely, little ants marching along. I had more confidence on the technical, steep dirt descent (1000’ elevation loss over 1 mi) than last year and did not walk any part of it nor fall into any of the human-sized holes.
Near the end, there is a 15 mile section of pretty flat, straight roads. This is the type of riding I find most mentally and physically challenging. However, on this day, still alone, I held onto my motivation, knowing a group could easily overtake my solo effort. Glancing behind me before making the last right turn, I saw no one closing in on me. I gave a final dig for the last hill, just to be sure I’d hold my lead, I gave a final dig for the last hill and, then, cruised down to the finish line, placing first for women with a possible course record and 10th overall.
Aid station food was top notch with avocado toast, grilled cheese, and taquitos; the race was followed by a delicious “farm to face” meal back at Mercey Hot Springs. This is a tough course no matter how one approaches it and the sense of accomplishment and camaraderie at the end is something really special. Thanks, Murphy Mack, for another great SuperPro event. I’ll be back next year in search of the elusive blunt nosed leopard lizard.
