On Saturday, February 9th, I rode in the 10th Annual Tour de Palm Springs (map, cue sheet, profile). This is a charity fundraising event, which benefits a long list of charities in the greater Coachella Valley of California. Terri and I like to vacation in Palm Springs as a way to dry up some of the mold we may have accumulated in our Western Washington winters (this is our 4th time down here). We’ve never come this early in the year before, and never have we combined this trip with cycling. I’ve been eyeballing the weather forecasts for weeks, and I’ve seen reports of freezing temperatures, rains with flash floods, and wind storms throughout January. Fortunately for us, the weather turned the day we arrived, and it has been in the 80’s for most of our stay.
| Our hotel is situated about 5 miles north of the start line for the ride, so in order to pick up my ride map and make the 7 a.m. start, I left the hotel at 6:15 a.m. Dawn was just breaking, but it was a chilly 49 degrees. Knowing that it would be getting pretty warm in the next hour or so, I opted to freeze my ass off until 9 by eschewing any layers. I rode to the start primarily in no-hands mode, arms crossed and fingers in the armpits. |  |
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The start line was crowded. I’d estimate that 1/3 of the total 10,000 projected cyclists were present for the ceremonies and roll-out. From the jerseys worn, most riders were from Southern California and Nevada. After some speeches and the National Anthem, we shuffled past the Palm Springs High School Band and Drill Team to the sounds of “Build Me Up, Buttercup”. |
| Once through Palm Springs, we entered the windmill farms that are clustered in the San Gorgonio Pass, Winds are funneled through this mountain pass, and the 4,000 + windmills here provide power to the air conditioners and pool heaters in the Palm Springs area. |  |
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After 7 miles or so of relatively flat warm-up, we started our ascent (such as it was). The big climbs of the day were all before mile 42. The hills were rather benign, never getting over 6 percent grade, and never for very long. Once we left the upscale infrastructure of Palm Springs, the roads tended to get a little rough. There were often large cracks in the asphalt that will jar you if you are unprepared. Later in the day I’d work a spoke loose with this treatment, and I took advantage of the mechanical support to tighten things up at mile 72. |
| The first rest stop was at mile 16, and the featured band was a group of retirees from the valley. I stayed long enough to refill 1 water bottle, then made my way through the crowd and back to the road. The rest stops were at least as busy as those on the Seattle-To-Portland ride, but they seemed to be well organized with plenty of different water options, and enough porta-potties to avoid long lines of dancing bikers. |  |
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A few miles of gentle descent later, we turned left and joined the route of the 55 mile riders. We would ride with the 55 milers until about mile 30, so we descended en masse on the rest stop at mile 28. Surprisingly, there were no huge lines for water or toilets. They had volunteer kids (presumably from some of the charities for whom we were contributing), running cold bottles of water out to the riders as they stopped by the road. This served to eliminate the usual crowd by the water. Another bottle refill, and I was on my way. |
| Soon after the 55 milers split off to head back toward town, we began another relatively tame section of climbing which lasted until mile 42. Not quite as thrilling as the ride profile had promised, the next 10 miles were indeed a descent into the valley. I took advantage of the moment for the obligatory hands-free shot that my wife abhors. Because the grade was less than spectacular I ended up working the pedals (rather than coasting) on the downhill as well in order to gain a little of the time lost on the uphill and headwind sections earlier in the day. |  |
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The lunch stop was at mile 52, and it was getting rather warm. Another high school band was playing, and a squad of cheerleaders was here cheering on the cyclists as they entered and left the rest stop. Turkey or ham sandwiches were available, made fresh and bagged just before they were handed out. A pleasant surprise for those of you who may have tried to eat one of those dried-out shingles that were made 3 days before STP. |
| We passed under Hwy 10, and crossed the railroad tracks. In what appeared to be a fairly frequent occurance, we were caught by surprise by the need to turn left right after the RR tracks. It seems that the further away from the start line we got, the worse the course markings became. Once the train cleared the tracks, we were forced to shuffle between cars at the red light in order to get to the left turn lane, and in the course of doing so one rider went down in the intersection. Better signage would have helped, a volunteer stationed before the corner would have been optimal. The Dan-Henry’s were abysmal. They were few and far between, often pointing in an ambiguous direction, and were frequently indistiguishable from utility locator markings next to the curb. |  |
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We headed a few more miles to our southernmost point, the garden spot known as Thermal. True to it’s name, it was fracking hot (my Polar HRM registered a temperature range for the day of 49-99). The route then turned back north along the western side of the Coachella Valley. There wasn’t much shade down here, but after a few miles I found myself rolling through a Palm Tree farm. Soon we were zig-zagging through the outskirts of La Quinta, a community (like many others in the valley) that only exists for the good graces of retired golfing enthusiasts. |
| The next rest stop was at mile 72, where I had my wheel trued and applied a healthy slathering of SPF 50 sunscreen. In a flashback to all those middle-school music recitals I sat through as a parent, the local junior orchestra was doing it’s best to wake George Gershwin from the dead with “Rhapsody in Blue”. After refilling and rehydrating, I followed a dozen or so riders out of the stop the wrong way. We did 2 bonus miles with a hillclimb, thanks to the inadequate signage on the route out of the stop. The resultant downhill portion was refreshing. |  |
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Other than a few more squirrelly left turns, the rest of the ride was pretty uneventful. The valley is by and large flat, although it is a gradual uphill from south to north. I can report that the bike lanes in the city of Palm Desert are shared… with Golf Carts. Along with the accustomed symbol of a bike rider painted in the lane, there is a similar symbol of a golf cart. Given that golfers are more heavily armed (with clubs), I assume they get the right-of-way. |
| There was one final rest stop at mile 90, uneventful except for the welcome cold of the water bottles they had put on ice for us. 7 hours and change later, I rolled across the finish line to the cheers of the the Palm Springs cheerleaders. I gathered up my t-shirt and medal, a cold bottle of water, and headed the 5 additional miles to my hotel. Total mileage for the day was 113. I was very fatigued, and my butt was definitely feeling the 7 hours in the saddle. I quaffed a cold Fat Tire, showered, ate a couple of pieces of leftover pizza, had a quick soak in the jaccuzi, and passed out about 8. Sunday morning I had an hour-long massage to work the kinks out of my back and thighs, which was excellent. |  |
So in conclusion I’d have to say I’m very glad I did it, but I’m not sure I’d do it again. It was really nice to ride in summer-like conditions in early February. The rest stops were well organized, and the route wasn’t a complete killer. It was pretty crowded however, and some of the roads left a lot to be desired. Time always changes my perspective, so I won’t say never. Perhaps if I can find another victim willing to escape the mid-40’s rain of Seattle to ride in the desert, I’ll do it again.
