Not all death marches turn out to be epic. Some turn out to be just plain stupid.

Take Saturday for example. The plan was for Joey, Jamie, & I to do Raincross and then turn around and head to Huntington Beach where the women and children would be waiting and frolicking in the ocean. I estimated it to be a 90 to 100-miler and that we’d be napping on the beach by noon. Yeah, it was going to be a hot and long ride, but I’d done it before. No big deal.

It occurred to me that it was indeed a big deal during the Raincross portion of the ride. The pace was super fast, there were only 8 of us in the lead group, and 2 of the 8 still had to ride another 50 miles in 100 degree temps to reach our final destination. The smartest thing we did all day was pull the plug at VanBuren, did an about face, and began riding to the beach earlier than planned.

To make a long, hot, and painful story short, we made it, but it wasn’t pretty. None of us ate enough during the ride and the headwind on the Santa Ana River Trail was as bad as I’d ever felt. I had the urge to blow chunks for the last ten miles, but given the wind speed, it would have been messy – both for me and my comrades. On a side note, I’ve always thought it would be hardcore to vomit in the middle of a ride and just keep going about your business as if it never happened.

I used to thrive on death marches, but not this time. On this day, the highlight was not pushing my body to its limit, but getting to play with the family on the beach.

One of our many water stops took place at Featherly Regional Park where they were having a classic auto car show. We looked for my dad, but we didn't see him.

During the Raincross ride Joey's heart rate monitor strap was sending nasty messages to his Garmin at the rate of 195 beats per minute.

Meanwhile at the beach, Ryder got all oiled up to work on his tan.

Destry was going for more of a tradational cyclist's tanline.

We crammed 5 adults, 2 kids, 2 car seats, 3 wheels, 3 helmets, 2 purses, 2 beach bags, an ice chest, & and a bunch of sand toys inside my car for the drive home. Everything else went on the roof. We Jam Econo!

You’d think after a 6 hour day in the saddle and suffering from a bit of dehydration, I’d give it a rest, but I’m not that smart. By 8:30 AM on Sunday morning I was riding up to South Fork with Uncle Greg, Edward, & Norm. Mountain bike rides don’t get much better than that.

I could be wrong, but I think we may have stopped here so Norm could adjust his saddle & seatpost.