When a friend and co-worker asked me one day in January if I wanted to join her group on a ride from San Bernardino to Huntington Beach on the Santa Ana River Bike Trail, I had just started riding. I’d just gotten a mountain bike, which was my first bike since the BMX I had when I was in elementary school more than a quarter-century ago.
But I’d been riding a few months and felt I was well on the way to becoming a full-fledged rider. I used to only look at riders on the road and wonder what that was like and, frankly, what the fuss was all about. But thanks to a bum knee from running and playing soccer, I was finding out and realized I was becoming one of them.
I‘d been putting down my miles, getting used to riding for hours both on the road and off road. I was gradually growing in confidence too, and truth be told, looking for my first big challenge. The SART from SB to the beach had a nice ring to it. It sounded like a cool, fun but also, I was sure, formidable challenge. Naturally I was up for it. I told my friend yes, I would join them.
Already signed up were my co-worker M; her husband D; and another co-worker, J.
From the time I signed on up to the ride, though, I’d virtually had no contact with the other riders. Apart from, of course, settling on the logistics of our adventure—which I went over by e-mail mostly with M—I thought I had better focus on training. And train I did.
The others were all experienced riders, and I didn’t want to be a liability to them, or worse get left behind, so I rode and rode and rode.
I’ve always been a fairly active type even before all this, so I had that going for me. But at the same time I knew cycling was different. You work different muscles, and learn to think of skin areas that you’ve never had to pay attention to before. Plus, there is the not insignificant matter of learning how to learn how to work with a bike.
But all that came naturally enough. I just knew that if I were to ride 67 miles, I’d better be ready.
I borrowed an old adage from my mountaineering days, which goes “the best training for climbing is climbing.” My new mantra was “the best training for riding is riding.”
Luckily, where I live—in north San Bernardino, near the foot of the San Bernardino Mountains—there are all kinds of roads (with some bike lanes) and inclines to be found. So I simply let loose.
Some days I stayed on the road and rode long, and other days I road short and hard off the road and up and down the hill.
It may be worth mentioning at this point that throughout this time I was riding a mountain bike with MTB tires.
Though I was doing most of my riding on asphalt and concrete, I didn’t bother to get road tires—not yet—because I’d figured I would get them just before our big ride—to optimize my training. I was counting on the road tires to give me an extra boost during the ride, in other words. And they would. I wouldn’t, in fact, fall behind too far.
As for maintenance, I kind of figured it out naturally—much thanks to google and a few visits to the bike shops in the area—even outside the area, in the case of a bike shop I discovered near work. I’d learned the basics and felt confident that I would be able to get out of a flat-tire situation on my own if I needed to. A tire pump found itself on my bike frame in no time. Patches and even a spare tube went into my bag.
Finally, the big day came.
After a few quick e-mails and phone calls about how we were we going to get to the trail and other details that aren’t worth mentioning now, the four of us found ourselves at the start of the trail on Waterman Avenue, all geared up and ready to go.
It was about 11:15 a.m. when we set out. It was sunny, the temperature was in the low- to mid-70s. A perfect day for a big ride. About the only thing I could think of weatherwise that could prove to be a hurdle, was the pollen in the air, it being spring and all. But none of us were allergic to it, so off we rode.
As anyone who’s ridden the SART from San Bernardino would tell you, the first quarter or third of the trail is a pretty straightforward affair, with few dips and bends. Nothing too hard—that’s for later. But at the same time it warms you up for what lies ahead. That is, you’re having fun but at the same time you feel yourself working.
The first real challenge, I would say, was the stretch of surface streets in Norco and Corona, a necessary detour since the trail isn’t done in that area. Not only are you slowed down but you also lose your rhythm and momentum. For about 11 miles, you ride on streets, which are for the most part without bike lanes, and you stop for red lights, etc. And you have to keep stopping to look at your downloaded street map.
Another thing was, because it was the first time any of us had ridden the trail, we didn’t know where to stop for lunch. As a result we passed by the eateries that would’ve made a good lunch stop. They were to be found at the beginning of the surface-streets area in Norco.
Luckily, though, just before getting back on the trail proper in Corona we found an In-N-Out, IHOP and the Lucky Greek burgers.
After lunch we simply had to cross the 91 Freeway and we were back on the trail.
Energized by lunch, the rest, and rolling downhill stretches, the four of us coasted along through the rest of Corona and Yorba Linda. At this point, you begin to notice a slight cool breeze that you suspect just might be coming from the coast.
And sure enough once we hit Anaheim and Orange, it became more pronounced. There we met a moderate but steady breeze pushing us back. We estimated the breeze to be in the 5 mph to 10 mph range, which doesn’t sound like a lot. But on a bike after several hours of riding, it definitely made for a, shall we say, “interesting” ride. But I was used to riding in windy conditions before—in SB there’s no way you’re going to miss out on that.
It got worse in Santa Ana and beyond, where the river essentially becomes one long flood channel—and a wind tunnel at the same time, if you get my drift.
At this point too you start feeling tired. If you’re the type to chafe, this is where it happens, as someone in our group can (painfully?) attest.
But it also means you’re getting close to your destination. The mile markers take on a different significance. 15…14… 13…and so on. The trail too becomes more even and even wider in some parts.
This is where my road tires spelled the difference, I think. Looking back, I think I still would’ve made it on my MTB tires, but I was thankful nonetheless that I changed them to smooth ones. That way, I was able to enjoy the ride.
Around 4 or 5 p.m., when we were down to the last 15 or so miles, we saw a lot of other riders out, along with walkers and runners. Most of them were courteous to riders.
Finally around one last bend in the trail, we saw it: waves crashing into the coast. We'd arrived.
We had done it. After 71/2 hours and 67 miles on the trail we were at Huntington Beach.
My verdict? I would say for new riders like myself, the SART can be grueling but very doable. With sufficient training, it can even be fun.
I myself want to do it again to see if I can finish it sooner, which I’m pretty sure I can now that I know what to expect and have a feel for the entire length of the trail. I can’t wait.
But I’d been riding a few months and felt I was well on the way to becoming a full-fledged rider. I used to only look at riders on the road and wonder what that was like and, frankly, what the fuss was all about. But thanks to a bum knee from running and playing soccer, I was finding out and realized I was becoming one of them.
I‘d been putting down my miles, getting used to riding for hours both on the road and off road. I was gradually growing in confidence too, and truth be told, looking for my first big challenge. The SART from SB to the beach had a nice ring to it. It sounded like a cool, fun but also, I was sure, formidable challenge. Naturally I was up for it. I told my friend yes, I would join them.
Already signed up were my co-worker M; her husband D; and another co-worker, J.
From the time I signed on up to the ride, though, I’d virtually had no contact with the other riders. Apart from, of course, settling on the logistics of our adventure—which I went over by e-mail mostly with M—I thought I had better focus on training. And train I did.
The others were all experienced riders, and I didn’t want to be a liability to them, or worse get left behind, so I rode and rode and rode.
I’ve always been a fairly active type even before all this, so I had that going for me. But at the same time I knew cycling was different. You work different muscles, and learn to think of skin areas that you’ve never had to pay attention to before. Plus, there is the not insignificant matter of learning how to learn how to work with a bike.
But all that came naturally enough. I just knew that if I were to ride 67 miles, I’d better be ready.
I borrowed an old adage from my mountaineering days, which goes “the best training for climbing is climbing.” My new mantra was “the best training for riding is riding.”
Luckily, where I live—in north San Bernardino, near the foot of the San Bernardino Mountains—there are all kinds of roads (with some bike lanes) and inclines to be found. So I simply let loose.
Some days I stayed on the road and rode long, and other days I road short and hard off the road and up and down the hill.
It may be worth mentioning at this point that throughout this time I was riding a mountain bike with MTB tires.
Though I was doing most of my riding on asphalt and concrete, I didn’t bother to get road tires—not yet—because I’d figured I would get them just before our big ride—to optimize my training. I was counting on the road tires to give me an extra boost during the ride, in other words. And they would. I wouldn’t, in fact, fall behind too far.
As for maintenance, I kind of figured it out naturally—much thanks to google and a few visits to the bike shops in the area—even outside the area, in the case of a bike shop I discovered near work. I’d learned the basics and felt confident that I would be able to get out of a flat-tire situation on my own if I needed to. A tire pump found itself on my bike frame in no time. Patches and even a spare tube went into my bag.
Finally, the big day came.
After a few quick e-mails and phone calls about how we were we going to get to the trail and other details that aren’t worth mentioning now, the four of us found ourselves at the start of the trail on Waterman Avenue, all geared up and ready to go.
It was about 11:15 a.m. when we set out. It was sunny, the temperature was in the low- to mid-70s. A perfect day for a big ride. About the only thing I could think of weatherwise that could prove to be a hurdle, was the pollen in the air, it being spring and all. But none of us were allergic to it, so off we rode.
As anyone who’s ridden the SART from San Bernardino would tell you, the first quarter or third of the trail is a pretty straightforward affair, with few dips and bends. Nothing too hard—that’s for later. But at the same time it warms you up for what lies ahead. That is, you’re having fun but at the same time you feel yourself working.
The first real challenge, I would say, was the stretch of surface streets in Norco and Corona, a necessary detour since the trail isn’t done in that area. Not only are you slowed down but you also lose your rhythm and momentum. For about 11 miles, you ride on streets, which are for the most part without bike lanes, and you stop for red lights, etc. And you have to keep stopping to look at your downloaded street map.
Another thing was, because it was the first time any of us had ridden the trail, we didn’t know where to stop for lunch. As a result we passed by the eateries that would’ve made a good lunch stop. They were to be found at the beginning of the surface-streets area in Norco.
Luckily, though, just before getting back on the trail proper in Corona we found an In-N-Out, IHOP and the Lucky Greek burgers.
After lunch we simply had to cross the 91 Freeway and we were back on the trail.
Energized by lunch, the rest, and rolling downhill stretches, the four of us coasted along through the rest of Corona and Yorba Linda. At this point, you begin to notice a slight cool breeze that you suspect just might be coming from the coast.
And sure enough once we hit Anaheim and Orange, it became more pronounced. There we met a moderate but steady breeze pushing us back. We estimated the breeze to be in the 5 mph to 10 mph range, which doesn’t sound like a lot. But on a bike after several hours of riding, it definitely made for a, shall we say, “interesting” ride. But I was used to riding in windy conditions before—in SB there’s no way you’re going to miss out on that.
It got worse in Santa Ana and beyond, where the river essentially becomes one long flood channel—and a wind tunnel at the same time, if you get my drift.
At this point too you start feeling tired. If you’re the type to chafe, this is where it happens, as someone in our group can (painfully?) attest.
But it also means you’re getting close to your destination. The mile markers take on a different significance. 15…14… 13…and so on. The trail too becomes more even and even wider in some parts.
This is where my road tires spelled the difference, I think. Looking back, I think I still would’ve made it on my MTB tires, but I was thankful nonetheless that I changed them to smooth ones. That way, I was able to enjoy the ride.
Around 4 or 5 p.m., when we were down to the last 15 or so miles, we saw a lot of other riders out, along with walkers and runners. Most of them were courteous to riders.
Finally around one last bend in the trail, we saw it: waves crashing into the coast. We'd arrived.
We had done it. After 71/2 hours and 67 miles on the trail we were at Huntington Beach.
My verdict? I would say for new riders like myself, the SART can be grueling but very doable. With sufficient training, it can even be fun.
I myself want to do it again to see if I can finish it sooner, which I’m pretty sure I can now that I know what to expect and have a feel for the entire length of the trail. I can’t wait.
Posts
Sweet. I like this. Thanks for inviting me. And please thank the support person for this adventure again for me.
ReplyDeleteI think my chaffing has just about healed. *laugh*
That sums it up terrifically! Thanks again for a great ride!
ReplyDelete