Here's Brian's first hand account from his ride into Basin (copied from his Strava comment feed)...

"Holy crap what a killer of the day ! still had 30 miles planned to go but a torrential downpour started about two hours ago and because of this I was up over a pass and it was hailing snowing and lightning was happening every couple seconds so rapidly that you couldn't even tell how far away it was by counting the seconds between lightning bolts because one would go and then another one with flash and you can tell them apart. I used every ounce of strength that I still had remaining to try and stay warm by sprinting in to the lower land. I had hypothermia when I arrived in to basin it was so delighted to find this town actually had services. I walked into the bar and the guys were all laughing at me as I was shivering violently but they told me where to go so I could ask somebody about a room when I got to the place where they might have a room it turns out that yes they can rent me a room for $70 however I have to go back on my bike to this mobile home which you can see in the picture. It was a totally crazy day but kind of exciting to end early and maybe get a little extra rest unfortunately tomorrow looks like it's going to be worse in terms of rain and high passes. I have the heater on full blast in here and all the windows open because it smells like this all year might be creating monoxide poisoning. All the clothes are drying on top of the fence and I am now really happy to have all that extra food that I was lamenting caring over the pass (the extra weight)."

It is on again! October 6, 2012, 7am at Hunting Hollow (Henry Coe State Park near Gilroy, CA) is the date. There is the 100 miler (aka Hard COEre 100), the metric 100km course and the Coe Everest Challenge.

The Coe Everest challenge is to climb 29,029 feet in (preferably) under 24 hours - or, a bonus 9,000 feet after completing the 100 mile / 20,000ft loop.

Check www.hardcoere100.com and www.savecoepark.org/ for updates and intel.

Right now (Saturday September 22nd), two brave souls have taken off ITT-wise, as they couldn't make the group start on October 6th. One of them (Aaron) finished the Vapor Trail 125 a few weeks ago so he certainly should be in the right shape. Only a handful have and will attempt the Everest challenge - none have completed it so far, hopefully that will change this time around!

[Hunting Hollow, 2011/10/1, 6.35 am]

My recap is below; I've aggregated results, stats, photos and recaps from others on http://www.hardcoere100.com/results.html .
Worth checking out, there is some good stuff there, e.g.:

(Roy)...I get through Burra Burra Trail, walking the hills and soon Center Flats Road is upon me. I walk most of the hills. When I try to ride, I am falling asleep. Delirious. I have no power. The breaks are plentiful and I am grateful. Grueling and painful. How can I continue on and stay on the bike. I catch myself from veering off the trail constantly. If I fall I won't get up. I will curl up and sleep forever. The lateness of the night is a huge factor. I'm normally home asleep and dreaming. I feel like a zombie. Sleep is forcing its way and taking over my body. I shake my head. When I stop, I put my head down and doze instantly, in another land but still there. I have to keep going. If not to finish the route at least to get back to the car. Soon that is all I am thinking about. I can't imagine doing 20 more miles at this point. How?

Hunting Hollow, 2011/10/1, 6.35 am
The contrast with last year's edition (midnight, 3 vehicles on the entire parking lot, near freezing temperatures) is striking: the large lot is now buzzing with activity; the night has been relatively warm with only a few high clouds obscuring the skies. We exchange our hellos, greet new partners-in-crime and prepare to get started. About 10 riders are lining up: 7 of them going for at least the 100 miler, 5 for the full Everest Challenge, among them the 3 veterans of last year. Eric the Nightrider will be embarking on his own solo expedition, which he'll dub the "Four Corners of the Apocalypse"... we don't ask many questions, Coe park has a tendency to attract the adventurous and the eccentric. My buddy Tom is there, providing moral support and spare lights, and Jeff, aka TahoeBC, shares his brave intention to join us as long as his recently-dislocated shoulder would allow him. Some unknowing campers are a little startled by the early hustle and bustle, but take it with a smile.

I hold a short briefing, before we get started with the steep 2 mile/1200 foot climb up Lyman-Willson trail, a good introduction if anything to what lies ahead. On this first climb of the day, I push the pace a bit to see how the crowd responds and it becomes quickly clear that we have assembled a fine and fit group here - once on the ridge, we witness the day break in pretty spectacular fashion and a quick photo stop is in order.




(photo Patrick H.)

Camp Willson
Three guys in the group are Coe-virgins and one is a second timer. While a bit concerned, I'm admiring their gutsy move of taking on this thing as their first (or second) ride in Coe.  From our previous email correspondence and quick conversations in the morning I was convinced they knew what they were doing, so I quickly put my worries about their well-being to rest, and encourage them to go for it and hammer out the course if they would feel inclined to do so - their biggest obstacle would be navigating the often tricky maze of trails in this vast place. I send them off to Steer Ridge, and start the climb a bit later alongside Patrick, Roy and briefly Tom. We reel in Jeff, who took a bit of a head start and he reports back the sighting of some wild boar near and in the pig traps on the ridge. Coe's fauna has a special affinity to Jeff, as we find out repeatedly.



Coit Road
Everyone is loving the Spike Jones / Timm descent, a fast and furious singletrack combo, and the switchbacked Anza trail (fun going both up and down) generates additional grins. On the fireroad climb toward Cross Canyon the bunch regroups, while Jeff plays snakemaster with a small constrictor on the side of the road. Patrick and I lead the group to the steep climb on lower Cross Canyon trail, starting with a tricky left-hander that I was intent on not dabbing. I make it, only to drift slightly off-course and be forced to put a foot down fifty yards farther; a duh-moment, though today would not be about cleaning, but surviving, as Roy will remind me. Soon we reach the crest and are looking forward to a fine descent into the canyon.



Cross Canyon
I'm picking myself up from the steep patch of loose gravel right before the first creek crossing; the crash left me gasping for breath and I feel some dull pain on my right side. During the dreaded fraction-of-a-second of enhanced consciousness right before impact I saw my front wheel jerk to the left after giving apparently too much front brake, anticipating the dried out creek crossing. My bike is set up with two small handlebar bags as well as a stem bag (all loaded with food), so I decide to blame the incident on my unfamiliarity with its altered handling, rather than dismal descending skills. The bike is suffering some minor damage as well: a broken fork remote lockout lever. And my bar mounted LED is whacked off, but I will only notice after I will have climbed out of the canyon.


(photo Patrick H. - yes, he actually captured the crash)

Willow Ridge road & trail
A little shaky and sore, I'm moving cautiously during our passage through the canyon; after the long climb out - the Cross Canyon Wall looking as daunting as ever - we run into the rest of the group again on the ridge and head to Hoover Lake. At the airstrip, Jeff takes a tarantula along for the ride. On Willow Ridge trail, as fine a downhill as they come, I regain my confidence, just in time to dodge the plentiful bushes of poison oak sprouting along its thread near the bottom part.



Coe Headquarters
Some amazing contrasts on this ride: from the dark solitude of our pre-dawn climb to the Tarantulafest party & barbecue at headquarters; this is a benefit event of its own for Coe park, and going on in full force when we arrive. The long climb up here - over the mighty Mahoney Wall (Roy cleaning it as if it was a speed bump), Lost Spring trail (additional quality time with poison oak), China Hole (nice, gradual), and the reviled Manzanita fire road, has been troublesome for me - with sore ribs acting up, and the impending dread of the many more hard miles coming up I start to fantasize about joining the party then calling it a day. We run into the always cheerful Paul L., who's doing some impromptu GoPro video interviews, and he inspires me to put my game face back on. Some caffeine-laden drinks at HQ, the food on the grill, the buzzing activity and the party chatter put me back in business, and after a long break during which the entire bunch has regrouped, we take off again. Scott and his buddy Dane, who were traveling light and fast, decide to peel off at this point. They probably could have gone faster if they'd known their way around here, but weren't prepared for the deep dive into the backcountry at night. Aaron and Sean, the other two relative Coe-newbies, radiate fortitude, are good with the map and stay on course, taking off toward Flat Frog trail - I wonder if we'll see them again.



Middle Ridge
The thrills and adrenaline this trail dishes out never get old; Poverty Flat road and Bear Mountain don't seem that insurmountable anymore... or will the delirium wear off quickly, once confronted with the hard facts? We'll see. Jeff splits off now and heads toward the Creekside trail. He's been going pretty strong, for not having ridden in a few weeks, with a semi-functioning shoulder.




(photo Patrick H.)

Bear Mountain
After we dragged ourselves over Poverty Flat, sporting an odious dusting of cake mix in spots, there would be time for recovery on a few flat miles, before we'd tackle the toughest climb of the day. At least, if the Narrows trail wouldn't be such a bumpy mess. The final stretch of flat fireroad afterwards is easy enough though, an ominous counterpoint to what lies behind the bend. When the first, ludicrously steep pitches of Bear Mountain become visible, we immediately spot Aaron and Sean struggling high up the hill, probably about 20 minutes ahead of us. Until now, Roy, Patrick and I mostly rode together, but during the ascent it becomes clear that Patrick has the most fuel left in the tank, and is most eager to crank out the power. He'll be dropping us on most of the climbs during the remainder of our journey. Roy and I retreat in our respective pain caves and while hiking the steepest pitches of Bear Mountain, I find a receptive audience for my complaints in a rare horned lizard, taking in some sun on this hottest part of the day.




(photo Patrick H.)

Pacheco Camp
The five remaining 100+ mile riders are briefly reunited at Pacheco Camp. Patrick has laid down a fast pace on these past few miles. Heritage trail was a beautifully primitive and fine descent but I didn't quite enjoy the subsequent passage of Pacheco Creek trail. The upper parts were overgrown and rough, and took a toll on me. I remember feeling very strong here last year whereas now, all I can think of is the possibility of some trail angels making an appearance at the camp, handing us out various goodies. Alas, it would turn out Charlie and crew indeed came by here, but missed us by about 45 minutes. The golden hour has almost passed and doubt creeps in again... this place is an easy bailout point. But no, that would make for a sad, depressing and lonely ride home, after having come so far. And thus without further ado I join the others, install lights, filter water and prepare for a long night.


(photo Patrick H.)


(photo Patrick H.)



Dutch's trail
I'm a bit dismayed to see that many snagging branches I had trimmed down on this fine trail months ago seemed to have grown back together. On one of the short steep uphill pitches I feel my chain break and curse. The drivetrain had been acting up for a while, probably a link was bent earlier on. After Patrick's flat on Phoneline trail (quite a trip in the dark), this is our second night-time mechanical. Luckily the fix is quick and we carry on. Approaching the lower section of this fantastic ridgeline trail - a genuine 'Blair Witch project' experience by night, with heaps of weirdly shaped chamise lighting up in our headlights - we see what must be Aaron's and Sean's lights, moving apparently slightly off course.


(photo Patrick H.)

Dowdy Ranch
After we had swept them up, Aaron and Sean decided to stick around with us, probably not a bad idea in this confusing and remote section of the park. I feel somewhat revived on the usually brutal Kaiser-Aetna climb toward Dowdy Ranch and am surprised that Patrick and I seem to be dropping the rest. It must be the absence of heat that makes this thing easier. My helmet light had come off its mount and I thought the mount had broken, so I zip tied it together, making for a slightly more wobbly light spot than I cared for (I found out later that it was just a screw that had worked itself loose - Magicshine owners, beware). A break at the deserted facilities is welcomed by all, but it is getting colder, so we layer up and quickly start to get moving again, onward to Burra Burra trail.


(photo Patrick H.)

Center Flats road
This is the section of the course that can really break a rider. The relentless grades of Center-non-Flats show no mercy. Patrick is still going insanely strong and cleaning an impressive amount of the steep rollers thrown at us; Aaron, Sean and I are limping along, but I'm getting a bit concerned about Roy. He's often falling behind, seems to reside in a catatonic state and hardly utters a grunt when I talk to him. I hand him some chocolate covered coffee beans, my late-night secret weapon. There is talk about bailing. I don't want to hear about it and suggest we'll decide once we hit Wagon, and are back on trails with civilized grades.

Wagon road
The call is made. Roy, who somehow came back to life, Patrick and I continue and take on the final 20 miles of the 100 mile course; Aaron and Sean are running low on lights and batteries and will take a shortcut home. They are a pair of impressive riders, having taken on this challenge in style, on pretty much their first real ride in Coe. I'm convinced they have the capability to pull this off in a strong time, with their newfound experience and some preparation; when we say our goodbyes I urge them to come back and get it done next time.

Hunting Hollow, 2011/10/2, 6.17am
These last 20 miles go by in a dreamlike daze. Slow fireroad grinds alternate with frigid singletrack descents, while sleep deprivation and an immense fatigue take a hold of us. The eerily moonless sky is lit up by an unfathomable amount of stars. When Patrick and Roy, who has made an incredible resurrection, take short naps, I joke with them that lethal hypothermia may set in anytime and urge them to get going again. Not sure why I stay awake; the coffee beans, perhaps. We survive the rutted Vasquez-Long Dam debacle, and climb the tough final 500 vertical feet on Wagon road, ridden clean by all three of us, as a matter of honor. Our final descent home is obscured by a dense fog bank, making for dicey conditions, but we all make it safely to Hunting Hollow road. Patrick hammers out the last three miles, but I don't have the energy to keep up with him and ride my own pace, Roy not being too far behind.

Once we regroup on the parking lot, few words are exchanged and we start to clean up; I'm feeling elation and satisfaction, because of the successful finish in difficult conditions, but mixed in is a slight sense of disappointment, as I knew I was in no shape to even attempt the Everest 'bonus route'. I think the others are sensing the same. Patrick may have come closest to giving it an honest shot, but he seems overwhelmed by sleep, and soon retreats in his car. I look at the time and can't believe it's past 6am; the sky is slowly lighting up. Taking on the long night ride after a full day on the bike had slowly drained our energy and worn us out, more than expected. Last year - with a midnight start - we were able to maintain our pace and finished about three hours faster. I dig out some caffeine, and like Roy, prepare to drive home. The Everest Challenge may have been unmet, but with some new lessons learnt we think it can be done. Some time.

I would finally like to take the opportunity to sincerely thank everyone who donated to the Coe Everest Challenge and CPPF; it's people like you who make the difference, and real results can be achieved, as proven by the successful effort in keeping Coe park open.

So we had ~9 starters, 5 of whom were going for the whole Everest thing. Three finished the 100 mile course, but Mt. Everest turned out to be a bit too high. Awesome and memorable day nevertheless.

More details, photos and recap coming soon (here and on http://www.hardcoere100.com/results.html), meanwhile there's some chatter in this Norcal mtbr thread.

Thanks for the info! I'd love to take you up on the sunrise climb. Not sure how long I'll be able to hang on but it would be fun to try. I'll head on over to your Web site to upload details. Hope to see you there.

Great, looking forward to seeing you. I just posted some updates on trail conditions etc. The GPX-file should be final now; there are plenty of ways to cut the ride short as you'll see. A map would probably be useful - they are for sale at headquarters, which is NOT where we will start, but printouts from the web, OSM, or even photos you take of the giant map posted on Hunting Hollow (where we start) which you can look at on the display of your camera should work...

Just wanted to chime in and applaud both the idea (29k climbing!) and the cause.  Wish it wasn't 14hrs drive from Tucson or I'd consider joining the party.

Thanks Scott; I feel the same about some of your events (AZT...), though Tucson being so far away probably saved me from getting in way over my head!

It was the HardCoere 100 write-up and pictures that first convinced me to check that place out back in July. The singletrack we rode was incredibly fun but the fireroads we used to connect the singletrack (almost all uphill) were indeed brutal. It was a warm day as well. I carried three liters of water and three hours later I was out of water. The region we rode didn't seem to have much surface water. I was curious how much you'd realistically have to carry in order to ride 100 miles in that park.

But yes, I find your event super intriguing. The timing is bad for me to participate in any kind of riding capacity (I have pacing commitments at the Slickrock 100 in Utah the following week, and a possible Grand Canyon R2R2R overnight hike days before that, ouch. Not to mention I've been injured and haven't been on a mountain bike in six weeks.) But if you have a place for support volunteers, I would be interested in helping out (I know the 100 is unsupported. Wasn't sure if the Everest event was also zero-support.) But it would be fun to meet some more South Bay-area cyclists and of course have some of the better trails at Coe pointed out to me. I'm otherwise free that weekend. Let me know.

- Jill Homer

Jill, with regards to the water situation / logistics: on the 100 mile course there are year-round reliable water sources at mile 38 (park headquarters), 62 (Pacheco Camp) and 78 (Dowdy Ranch)... everything is very dry now but there are a number of lakes never too far off course to get additional water to filter. So it is pretty manageable. In spring there is water flowing everywhere, but generally the going is a bit slower then, with numerous creek crossings and creek beds to wade through.

The Everest Challenge is also unsupported indeed, but not as strictly as the 100 miler: we plan to first do the entire 100 mile course, which will get us back to our starting point, Hunting Hollow (the southern park entrance), then do a 'bonus loop' - I plan to have a big cooler with lots of goodies in my parked vehicle there.

There will probably be a few people hanging out on the Hunting Hollow area (big dirt parking lot), looking out for us and you're more than welcome to join - I'd feel bad though having you sit there for hours and get bored stiff. Maybe, if you'd feel up for it, you could join us on the bike for a while in the morning (6am start time) - the first part of the course is pretty nice and you'll get to see a great sunrise while we climb the ridge (or get drowned in fog ). On our (fairly) loaded bikes we'll be slow and I will certainly not be in a hurry the first miles. In terms of timing: last year's time would bring us back to Hunting Hollow in the middle of the night (~2am) - in my dreams I'll be able to finish the Everest Challenge around sunrise, about 24 hours after we took off. I think the first finishers of the 100 miler could be a few hours faster this time. Also, we'll probably hit headquarters (the western entrance to the park) around noon.

Those trails can hurt like few things do indeed, but some of them are ridiculously fun too. 29k feet of climbing also means 29k of descending! It takes a while to get to know your way around there (so that you can avoid the most brutal fireroads) and it's easy to get lost, as some of the singletrack is only 8 inch wide and overgrown most of the year. I hope you get to check it out again. If you show up on Saturday mornings (Hunting Hollow entrance) you have a good chance of running into some friendly locals that will be glad to act as a guide. The place also attracts some crazy trail ultrarunners (you're one of those right, at least part-time  ) and is perfect for bikepacking (best in spring when there's more water).

So far it looks like 5-6 people are lining up for the 100 miler, and 3 are going for the Everest thing.

Coe park is now saved for the time being but the list of other parks to be closed is still long and depressing (http://www.savestateparks.org/parksincrisis.html)... Annadel, China Camp, South Yuba are just a few other ones with great mountain biking (there is a group of people working to keep Annadel open I believe).

Since the state of California announced it intended to 'close' Henry Coe park next year as part of budget cuts (together with a depressingly long list of other parks), we came up with a novelty when planning the new edition of our unsupported Henry Coe hundie (aka, the Hard COEre 100):

The Coe Everest Challenge! 29,029 ft of climbing in +140 miles in (more or less) a day, and the goal is to raise awareness for the issue as well as a few bucks for the private fund that is raising money to avert the closure of Coe (the CPPF).

Riders will try to climb - and descend - a Mount Everest worth of elevation gain on this ride - if this sounds like fun, there is still plenty of space left at the lineup. The site has details - basically the existing and unaltered hundred mile course (a single, giant loop) will be followed by a 'bonus loop' or laps.

Some great news: the CPPF has recently managed to secure enough funds and came to an agreement with State Park to keep the place open, at least until 2015. The challenge and fundraising are still on though, as funds are needed for trail work and maintenance, construction of new trails and the various events organized in the park.



Here are some shots from a recon ride yesterday, to whet the appetite:

Uncloaking from lurking mode to do a quick shout out to the other KR: my compatriot and fellow Belgian Kim Raeymaekers, who's doing a steady middle-of-the-pack ride and just passed through Salida.

I know the place where he lives (Turnhout, BE): there is no point in a radius of 50 miles around it higher than about 300 feet; the hardest climbs are highway overpasses; snowcapped peaks and dry desert heat are as alien there as Mars. Not sure how he trained for this - he may have done many hill repeats on said overpasses, or took long vacations in the Alps, but he seems to be doing pretty good.

I will now continue to watch the fascinating and final 'sprint' between KR and JB unfold...

Can't talk for Sean but that would be rolling the dice a bit. The first big storms tend to hit the Sierra's around that time. If you're lucky, it could be great - the perfect timing would be right after a smaller storm that renders the trails nice and tacky but doesn't dump a big load of snow yet (in late fall, before the storms, many trails will be very dusty/sandy).
But it may as well be nearly impossible, unless you bring skis or snowshoes. The highest elevations on the route are on the Tahoe Rim Trail section east of the lake, at 9,000-10,000 ft. I'd say your chances are (slightly) better than 50%; you can trust a weather forecast probably a week ahead.

Great idea! Would love to try this some time. I glanced at the route; if you worry about that first 20 mile section breaking the 'loop', you could always start and finish in Foresthill? Of course, then you'll just skip that entire section, and it is a pretty fun and scenic one. Alternatively, how about sticking to the Pony Express route near the end, beyond Kyburz, to Placerville and then cutting north to Auburn to close the loop? I don't know anything about the rideability of this, so I'm just speculating; I think I remember some folks trying to ride the Pony Express route (into Sacramento?).

Count me in! 

I've been wondering about what route to put together down there. Being in Alameda, the South Bay is a bit of a mystery to me.

If nothing else, that's a KILLER route to go out and play on. I'm going to have to figure out how to get down there soon. Nicely done!

It's a bit of a challenge to do the full route in winter (short days), and early spring may have a lot of water running in the creeks that will slow you down. That said, go and check it out; some great riding there. Btw, next year we may go 'above ground' (we're talking with State Parks), the provisional date is Oct 1, 2011.

Nice work on the rematch!  This sounds like a very hard hundy.  21 hours, and you are right that the GPS won't pick up some hike-a-bike as moving time.

Good work and thanks for the update.

Thanks - there is a bit of hike-a-bike and 'zero-track' to negotiate, and the night riding tended to slow things down as well. And after mile 60, we were in survival-mode rather than race mode. In 'normal' hundies I'm up to 2 hours or so slower than the fast guys, so there's definitely room for improvement...

We saw a new window of opportunity open up last Saturday and went for it... the 100 mile loop with 20,000ft of climbing took us a grand total of 21 hours and 12 minutes; 15 and a half hours moving time, perhaps with some slow hike-a-bike hours that the GPS may not even have registered as moving and a couple hours of lying semi passed out on the dirt... great fun!

Here's my recap http://blog.mtbguru.com/2010/11/15/675/, more here on http://www.hardcoere100.com/results.html and this mtbr thread
http://forums.mtbr.com/showthread.php?t=665755

humm, I get out to CA a few times a yr and have ridden a few hours worth in this park, hummm


looks like you had a great ride!  When you going back?

Well, next weekend there is a full moon... hmm. A bit too early for me to do another attempt though but a reasonably dry, full moon winter weekend would work.

Maybe this is not truly bikepacking content, but it was going to take us two night rides + the entire day, so I guess it could qualify as 'ultra'. Below a recap (also posted on mtbr); I will say that the whole idea was inspired partly by the lurking and reading I have done here on the many awesome events you guys came up with...

I’ve been obsessed fascinated by the idea of pulling off an unsupported 100-miler at Henry Coe: riding one giant, pure dirt loop, without repeats, out-and-backs or pavement. And so the Hard COEre 100 was born. A century at Coe means one can count on at least 20,000 feet of climbing, as the trails – a concoction of bumpy singletrack, steep firebreaks and jeep roads, half-overgrown game trails, rocky creek beds and old horse carriage trails – tend to go either up or down, at mostly unforgiving grades.

I probed around a bit and found Ratpick and Plymmer – two of the strongest riders I know – prepared to share in the madness and line up with me for a 2AM start of this inaugural version. The evening before, my goal was to get at least a few hours of sleep in before the start, my main fear was not to hear my alarm and suffer rightful embarrassment. Carbo-loading by ingesting two IPA’s was just right to obtain both objectives, and would hopefully provide good energy for the ride as well.


The inaugural loons riders at the start

And so three souls lined up at the start – we’d be carrying more weight than usual (lights, batteries, warm riding gear, all our food), and it finally started to dawn upon me that the schedule and route that I had thought up in front of my computer was verging on the edge of madness, given what I thought my own capabilities were. But I quickly pushed the worries aside, I wanted to play and see, and just try to make the best of the curveballs that Coe would throw at us.

A ride like this needed an appropriate warm-up, so what better way to start it than the slow grunt up Lyman-Willson trail with its 30% grade wall in the middle? The most memorable part of it turned out to be a skunk running along in front of us for a while, forcing us to opt for the steeper part of a short braid in the trail. After reaching Camp Willson we decided to not pause and push through to Willson Peak, climbing further up Steer Ridge. Unfortunately the moon had set already, as the nocturnal views from Steer Ridge would have been magical. Now the fun could really begin: the combo of singletrack descents Spike Jones / Timm was a total blast in the dark – my setup of helmet mounted incandescent light and bar mounted LED worked great and I hesitated only on the trickiest log rolls on Timm. Plymmer took out some snagging branches with his sheer enthusiasm, I believe.

We were up for a 5 hour night ride, on its own already respectable, but I remembered this setup worked perfectly for almost 8 hours during the Moonlight Madness ride, so I didn’t worry too much about battery life. Alas, I should never trust anything using batteries, as I was about to find out.


Plymmer climbing out of Lost Spring trail, after ritual release of inner demons

Next up was a bit of Coit road, a bit of Anza (up, then down) and more Coit. Coit Spring / south Cross Canyon was the next notable climb, and at the crest we took our first real break. So far all was good, and we dived into Cross Canyon, a fast, furious descent. Then: my helmet light started to get dimmer and dimmer, and quickly failed entirely; another lesson learnt (test everything thoroughly and preferably right before you use it) but not a good spot and time to learn it, with Cross Canyon being among the most rocky, techy parts of the route. I still had my LED bar light of course, and it took some getting used to, and a few clumsy stumbles on the tricky dried out creek crossings, but it worked.

We told ourselves to not bother trying to clean the hardest climbing sections on this ride (one of our normal passtimes on Coe rides) – though Ratpick in particular gave honest attempts on many of them – so the Cross Canyon Wall remained undefeated. Really hard to imagine it can be cleaned anyway these days, it is looking more rutted and loose than ever.

A few gentle miles of Willow Ridge road were up next and then it was time to check up on our recent trailwork near Hoover Lake. I couldn’t enjoy it very much due to my challenges with illumination but it rode well – minus dabs on the early switchbacks but I’ll blame those on the darkness.

In my current predicament I wasn’t particularly looking forward to Willow Ridge trail, a steep plunge on narrow, poison oak infested singletrack to Los Cruzeros, and I had to take it very slowly. But once we started the climb out of the Narrows on Lost Spring trail, dawn broke and my battery worries were over (for a while). Seeing the sun rise after a long night ride is always good for a decent morale boost, and I enjoyed the climb out towards the top of China Hole East. After Ratpick and I had crested the climb, we were upset by a loud, infernal grunt rising from the depths of the Narrows – the only thing this could signal was Plymmer not cleaning a climb. Coe cries every time Plymmer dabs!


A rather awesome part of long night rides: witnessing the birth of another day

The descent into China Hole was fast and fun, and particularly nice in the fresh daylight. Next up was the, for Coe standards, easy, ‘family-oriented’ climb up China Hole West. After jointly dabbing on the toughest part of it, the first, elusive switchback, we slowly but surely dragged ourselves up Pine Ridge. The Manzanita Point fireroad leading to the park’s headquarters (HQ) had recently been graded (a mountain biker’s curse) and turned into a sandy mess in spots. The plan was to take it all the way up to HQ to refill on water and enjoy some other perks (full service bathrooms, instant coffee or hot chocolate for 25 cents!), which ment we would have to deviate a bit from the ‘rules’, as it implied a short out-and-back section, and even a very short stretch of pavement. But as it really falls in the noise overall (the out-and-back is about 0.6 miles), and it serves a clear purpose (water supply), we decided it was an acceptable exception (that’s the advantage if you make up the rules!).


Plymmer needed some dusting after Ratpick was done with him here


A sea of fog rolling into the valley below

Our pace had been dropping throughout the ride, or rather, our breaks getting increasingly long and more frequent – and I knew it was going to be very hard to finish it in something resembling daylight, which was weighing a bit on me knowing my battery situation. But the coffee/chocolate at HQ was a godsend and got us all psyched up again for the goodness that was to follow: Flat Frog and Middle Ridge (ok, with some Hobbs-drudgery in between). Middle Ridge is of course about the finest singletrack descent one could dream up. I walked the steep climb at the beginning of it to save myself for what we’d get on our plate as soon as the downhill fun would have dried up.


The joys of Middle Ridge

So much fun just had to have a price. Poverty Flat would be the appetizer for what was to come: an unclimbable loose mess, an excursion towards the outer limits of what we were willing to put up with. Meanwhile it had started to warm up, and temperatures were definitely exceeding the 80F barrier of my comfort zone. The main course was Bear Mountain. Plymmer and I had stoked Ratpick – a Bear Mountain virgin – about it and I hope it delivered. The first stretch was a long hike-a-bike for the three of us, but it was impressive to see how Ratpick managed to clean a formidable section later on. It was clear that he had the best legs today; a climb like this doesn’t leave much doubt. But the mountain did get him in the end: he seemed to suffer a slow leak in the rear tire and needed to replace a tube. Myself, I think I ended up hiking almost half of its 4 mile overall length.


Bear Mountain: the Crusher of souls, the Obliterator of hope


Delivering on its evil promises


We pretty much looped around this lonely house-on-the-hill

Fortunately, Bear Mountain road does have an end, and we were relieved to zip down towards Mississippi lake along County Line road, on occasion staring into the Orestimba Wilderness on our left. It’s always a joy to see Mississippi Lake appear and after riding a fun stretch of singletrack around it we took a break and filtered some water. The next part of the route was the only one I hadn’t ridden before: a stretch of Willow Ridge road followed by a descent on Rat Spring trail – the Willow Ridge part seemed innocent enough on the map, a gradual climb followed by some ‘rollers’. But these rollers turned out to be a rather painful affair – ridiculously steep walls that were generally just a tad too long for me to power up through momentum – I was still in the process of recovering from Bear Mountain and felt beat down by the heat and now this. I suffered/hiked through them, but needed a long break at Pacheco Camp to regain my composure and some strength.



But a worse thing was that we were now more than three hours behind schedule. I had tried to design the route so that leg 2 (which we just completed) and 3 were the hardest, and leg 4 easier and faster. Riding legs 3 and 4 was going to leave us with an ETA of at best 10pm. Given that I would have to rely on a wimpy bar LED, and Ratpick's and Plymmer’s lights may have had only one or two hours left, we made the hard decision to pull the plug on the whole route, skip leg 3 and finish by continuing with leg 4. It would still give us 80 miles with ~15,000 foot of climbing.


One of the many critters we encountered on our day out here

After eating a bit and employing my secret end-of-ride weapon (GU shots) I started to feel better again. The last part of the route was a bunch faster indeed and featured highlights such as the Kelly Lake trail (East) descent, the Dexter + Grizzly Gulch singletrack (great downhill!) and some exhilarating high-speed downhill fun on Wagon Road (speeds approaching 40mph). Plymmer started to look a little pale and we were afraid that he would decide to climb up Serpentine rather than stick to the route (yes, he’s one who would opt to climb more in order to feel better!), but our fear was fortunately ungrounded.


Catching some rain drops on the way home


Plymmer cresting the final climb on Wagon Road

It was very rewarding and great fun riding this in a small group, but there is a final, near-500 foot climb on Wagon right before the descent home, and my original intention was to propose to Plymmer and Ratpick to duke it out here, close to the very end, for the ‘win’. Of course that wasn’t relevant anymore, and Ratpick would have handily smoked us anyway, so I didn’t even bring it up. Hence we rolled together through Hunting Hollow right before sunset, around 6.15pm, back to the lot, to enjoy some post-ride festivities.

Now, after letting things sink in for a few days, it is clear: we can't wait to get back out there and finish the job.

More recaps in the Norcal mtbr thread and on the HC100 site.

Hi I'm Dirk, a Belgian transplanted into California many years ago, and a bit of a GPS/mtb geek (am half responsible for www.mtbguru.com). A few years ago I started dabbing somewhat in what could be called bikepacking, but I've been getting a bit more serious recently. I'm mainly jealous of the incredible routes in AZ and CO I read about here and I feel like CA needs some of that goodness too, so I'm currently in the process of trying to make up some.

Below a pic of a bike setup I recently tried out...