Watsonville – Strawberry Fields Forever
Everybody getting ready for the Strawberry Fields Forever bike ride
Once again, we set out to do the 25 mile bike ride at the annual Strawberry Fields Forever event at Watsonville. Last year the day started out cold and foggy but today it is warm. As we drove out of the garage at 6 am, the temperature read 66 degrees. Watsonville is near the coast so it could well have been cold and foggy over there. Driving towards the Santa Cruz mountains on Highways 85 and 17, everything looked crisp and clear. Traffic was light and the sun shone. What more could we have asked for?
We passed or were passed by at least six vehicles hauling bikes. I wondered if they are all going to the same event. The nearer to Watsonville we got, the more bikes we saw. There were 1202 bikes taking part in the event. (Click on the images for larger versions)
Besides the 25 mile ride which Tom and I took part in, there were also a 100 kilometers and a 100 mile ride. Either one of those would have been just too much for us. We were not out to do it in a fast time. In fact, we made many stops. Tom had his camera of course and there were lots of photo ops. Last year, all the early starters were on the longer rides and Tom and I were the only ones for some time on the short ride.
When we turned off Highway 1 towards Watsonville and neared our destination, we saw lots of cyclists who had already started on their ride and when we approached the car park at Pajaro High School, the first lot was already full. There were certainly far more cyclists around than last year. Negotiating the car through the car park, with bikes being unloaded, people walking about and cyclists setting off, was hazardous.
While Tom unloaded our bikes, I went to register and to pick up the printed route. I was also given two red arm bands which were our meal tickets. I was under the impression that the 25 mile route did not get the lunch but I was not about to question it.
At 7.40 we set off, after covering ourselves in sun block of course. The first part was downhill and I knew that it would be a killer at the end of the ride.
At first there were three sets of arrows – green, yellow and red. We were following the green arrows. We turned right at the first set of lights. I should have checked the route map to see how far we had to go on Harkins Slough Road before our next turn but was relying on seeing the green arrows. Ahead I saw a hill and was bracing myself to get up it plus the sun block had got into my eyes and they were watering and that’s my excuse for missing the green arrow pointing to the right at Ohlone Parkway. We’d gone about three quarters of a mile before I stopped to check the map. Oh no, we have to climb up that hill again! Our situation was not as bad as another cyclist who had also stopped to check the map. She was on the 100 kilometer route and didn’t know she was supposed to follow the yellow arrows.
Eventually we were back on the right track. Our next instruction was to go 0.11 miles to the next turn but it was more like a mile. I thought we
Lettuce, lettuce and more lettuce. They don't call this the "salad bowl of America" for nothing.
gone wrong again but I had been watching out for the green arrows and didn’t see any at all. Eventually we saw a green arrow and turned onto Beach Street. This is where the strawberry fields began. After nearly two miles we turned onto Thurwatcher Road and were once again sharing the route with the yellow and red arrows. Consequently there were suddenly more cyclists around. There were strawberries all around us and lots of them looked ready to be picked. They were growing right next to the road. It was so tempting not to stop and sample some, but we resisted.
Just before a bridge over Watsonville Slough we stopped so Tom could take photos. Quite a few cyclists asked if we were OK or whether we needed help but I assured them we were fine. I sat on a crash barrier and started writing. We heard a noise behind us and thought it was a tractor but then Tom spotted a model plan and told me where to look. We watched it climb, swoop and execute loops. What fun.
It is amazing how the faster cyclists could carry on conversations with each other as they rode along and they were going at a steady speed. Tom and I are just casual weekend cyclists and this year we were not in top form. We had only been out a couple of times on our bikes – once on a short trip round the neighborhood one evening and our visit to Alviso last weekend. At this stage in the ride our legs were beginning to complain.
Taking a break
While we were stopped on Trafton Road, a helicopter passed over our heads and landed in a field and then was lost to sight. Later we passed it, hidden behind a truck. It was a crop duster and had just filled up with pesticide. We saw it take off and then fly low over a nearby field spraying the strawberries. They are obviously not organic.
We turned left on Salinas Road. The red and yellow arrows went off to the right. The 25 milers were on their own again.
Our next turn was onto Lewis Road and over the railway tracks. We passed a railway depot with a couple of stationary engines and a few solitary trucks. Soon we came to our first and worst hill – it was long and steep. I made a valiant effort to cycle to the top but gave up halfway. Well, alright, a quarter of the way up. As I lifted my leg over the saddle I saw another bike coming towards me so drew my leg in. The center of gravity must have been affected because I toppled sideways and ended up sitting on some soft soil. I wasn’t hurt at all. In fact it was an elegent fall. I did feel stupid though. Tom was totally oblivious as he was manfully reaching the top of the hill and knew nothing about my fall. He waited for me to catch up. I did debate whether to tell him or not but as it was so comical I did tell him.
We continued to climb steadily when we were on Vega Road but they were short upward slopes followed by downhill sections. It was such fun to fly down those slopes with the wind whistling by. By now it was really hot and we were constantly on the look out for shady places to stop at. At one stop, Tom pointed out that with the birdsong, the sound of roosters calling and strains of Mexican music wafting our way, it was so California.
The scenery was spectacular. Still riding through farmland. Apart from strawberries, we saw lots of lettuce, all at different stages of growth, ranging from just sprouting to ready to be picked. There were also fruit bushes half covered in plastic tunnels and I guessed they were raspberries. At one point, we passed some farm workers going out in a band, obviously on their way to pick fruit as they had plastic pots hanging from their belts.
There was a terrible left turn onto Murphy Road. Tom said I nearly bought it but he exaggerated.
Our legs were really beginning to hurt and we were only two thirds of the way done. At one point, we sat for 20 minutes on some concrete blocks in a nice bit of shade. Tom was quite happy sitting there and he tried to persuade me to ride on to the rest stop to fetch him something to eat!
Just before the rest stop, there was one more steep hill on Thompson Road. Even though it was a short hill, I didn’t even attempt to climb it. It was another killer.
We were so pleased to arrive at Gizdich Ranch and our one and only rest stop. Lots of cyclist there, all happy and chatting away. There was
Just in time. The rest stop.
good food on offer – crepes, applie pie, banana halves, orange slices and trail mix. To drink there was apple juice, lemonade and water. To liven everybody up, there was a small group of musicians. Tom thought they were playing Greek music. Whatever it was, it was much appreciated.
Time to hit the road again. Only seven miles to go, but they were the longest seven miles. If we do this again, and it is a big if, we will certainly have to get into better shape. We were both getting slower and slower. In fact, Tom was in agony. He kept getting cramps. I would stop and look back to see Tom way behind. Eventually I persuaded him to to stay under a nice shady tree on Holohan while I cycled back to get the car. Finally he agreed, so I set off on my own. The end was only 4 miles away so it didn’t take me long. I must admit though to walking up that final hill to the car park. (note from Tom: It didn’t take a lot of persuading being the wuss I am.)
What took me a long time though was to get my bike onto the bike rack. You see, I have never done it before on my own. I knew sort of how it went on but it looked nothing like when Tom loads the bikes. I kept taking it off and trying a different way. Eventually it looked safe enough and I set off back to Tom.
Once Tom had loaded the bikes correctly, we set off for home. We did debate whether or not to go back to Pajaro High School for the lunch but decided against it because the car felt so cool. The temperature at Watsonville was 85 but the nearer we got to home, the hotter it became outside. It was 104 degrees when we turned into our driveway. It was good to get home and have a warm shower.
Even though it had been a bit of an effort, due a lot to the heat, it was worth it. We both thought we would suffer with aching limbs the next day but surprisingly we had no pain at all.
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May 22 2009 08:30 am | Special Places
