The Bovine Classic bills itself as “America’s 4th-Hardest Cow-Themed Gravel Ride … in a California Wine Region … Not Called Napa or Sonoma.”  I’m not sure that’s true, but I decided to check it out to see for myself.  The entry fee was steeper than I would normally pay, but since my sister lives in the host town of Atascadero, the lodging was free, which made the overall cost more acceptable.

Atascadero is from the Spanish word meaning mud hole or mire.  Thankfully they kept the Spanish name rather than translating it to English, because it sounds much better in Spanish.  The town was founded in 1913 as a planned, utopian community in 1913.  It’s also home of the state mental hospital for the criminally insane.  Probably just a coincidence.

The morning started off clear and a little chilly, but not so cold that I needed to cover up my sexy, hairy legs with leg warmers as I set out from my sister’s to ride a couple miles to the start.  At the start we lined up according to the distance we were doing with the riders of the longest course at the front.  There were three choices: The Big Bovine at 85 miles, the Feisty Bovine at 71 miles, and the Happy Bovine at 45 miles.  I was doing the Feisty Bovine, so I was in the middle of the pack.  As this wasn’t a race, there was little dick measuring at the start.  Maybe I should rephrase that.  There wasn’t much dick measuring.  Or maybe I’ve become inured to it.

Moooving out.

The ride made its way east out of town on the main highway alongside Stadium Park, so named for the amphitheater that provided entertainment for utopia.  The park is also home of one of the monoliths that popped up a few years ago.  After crossing the Salinas River we turned left onto some quieter country roads.

Wanna see my monolith?

A vintage police car led the way to the first large climb of the day with sirens blaring.  The group started to spread out on the climb as the lighter, faster riders moved ahead, and the heavy slow pokes like me fell back.  At the steepest part of the climb I stood on the pedals and suddenly my heart rate shot up to 185 bpm.  Hopefully this was just a measurement error, but not wanting to go into the red, or the black in this case, I sat back down and took my time up the remainder of the hill letting my heart rate settle to a more reasonable 170 bpm.  

I hope they aren’t leading us to the asylum, but maybe they should.

Over the top the downhill was steep, washboarded and loose making it a bit hairy to navigate.  Go slow and feel every bump and maybe lock up your wheels.  Go fast and you might end up in the barbed wire fence at the turn at the bottom of the hill.  I chose to err on the slower side of things, and despite getting sideways a couple times, I made it down safely.

The next several miles were through the rolling countryside as we headed back west.  We turned back onto some gravel where we encountered an interesting sight.  Animals in groups of 2 and 3.  Zaftig women in tight pants and sweatshirts carrying massive coffee mugs chest high as if to say, “My jugs are down here.”  Not quite as exotic as the fat people display at the San Diego Zoo, but fascinating nonetheless. 

After passing through the town of Templeton we started the second major climb on the day up Kiler Canyon Road about 1000 feet of elevation gain.  This was one of two timed segments on this course, so people who wanted to win a prize could race ahead.  I just wanted to get to the top without killing myself.  Much of the road was rutted and rocky from recent rains.  It was best to leave space to the rider ahead in case of slips, spills or swerves.  The road was effectively a single track in many places making passing a challenge.  I felt pretty good about getting to the top, but when I told my sister that we went up Kiler Canyon she said, “I remember that road.  My husband and I rode mountain bikes up that when I was about six months pregnant.”  She’s a little competitive.

Exiting Kiler Canyon.

After a few miles of winding downhill we pulled into the next rest stop at the MAHA Villa Creek Winery.  I thought MAHA was rather interesting branding given that this is Coastal California and not MAGA country like Chicago, but as a post on their Instagram explains, the name comes from an inscription that was on a water tank on the property when they bought it decades ago, and they don’t really know what it meant.

Before we left the aid station I tried to lead the other riders in a land acknowledgement to recognize my great grandfather as the steward of the land on Villa Creek as a dairy farmer for time immemorial, or maybe a century and a half ago, but they all rightfully looked at me like I was a crazy lunatic.  Nonetheless we were indeed passing close to the Roberto Family’s ancestral land, which according to a contemporaneous article in the local paper, my great grandfather had to give up due to heart disease, which I think was a euphemism for alcoholism.  

Nearing my ancestral home.

After the MAHA winery we continued downhill onto some beautiful tree-lined roads before turning off into the vineyards at the Denner Winery.  Exiting the front of the winery we were back onto pavement heading down to Highway 46 where we did a few miles of less than pleasant riding on the shoulder.  We turned off onto York Mountain Road, which was quieter but included a steep climb.  We rejoined Highway 46 in the opposite direction before turning off onto some more gravel.

Vineyard cuttings.

After a steep and unexpected climb which showed up as a shade of red I’ve never seen before on my bike computer, we were treated to some rolling roads along the ridgeline.  After a steep downhill and a crossing of a rocky, dry creek bed, we joined what I suspect was the old toll road between the coast and Paso Robles as there was an old wooden tollbooth and a gate at the side of the road.  At the junction with the paved road was the next rest stop where I filled myself with M&Ms, pickles, pickle juice and pastries.  Endurance cycling does not facilitate a healthy diet while riding.

After a long downhill we began the biggest climb of the day up on the second timed segment, Santa Rita Road, about 6 miles and 1300 feet of climbing.  The first two thirds were at a pretty gentle 2-3% and the last third kicked up to about 7%.  Though it was dirt, the road was mostly in good condition and the grade was pretty steady and not steep.  It was just long.  On these long climbs I play mental games with myself to keep motivated.  I count down the remaining climb 50 meters at a time, 350, 300, 250 and so on.  At 40 meters to go I consider myself to be at the top.  Why 40?  I don’t know.  I just know I can always climb another 40 meters.  Why do I use the metric system on my bike computer?  Because distances are bigger numbers which makes them sound more impressive.

40m to go, looking back.

At the top there was another rest stop where I filled up with water and electrolytes and began the long, long descent into Templeton, where we began the last leg of the ride back to Atascadero.  We turned onto the white gravel road where I previously spotted the Coffee Mug Women, but they were long gone.  Apparently they are most active at dawn.  The road was reminiscent of the Strade Bianchi, the white roads in Italy which I hope to ride next year as part of the Tuscany Trail in order to bring you more content.

Natural habitat of the coffee mug women.

Fatigue was setting in as we exited the last of the gravel back onto pavement.  I probably should have been eating more so my body would have enough calories to burn, but I find that hard to do without stomach discomfort.  As we crossed the Salinas River I knew the end was near.  After crossing the finish line and leaning my bike against the fence I grabbed my drink ticket and made a beeline for the beer stand for a Firestone Pivo to begin my recovery.

All in all it was a well run event on some nice roads.  If I do the event again it will be the longer distance to see some of the roads I missed.  However, the event is pretty pricey, so instead I might just bring my bike with me next time I visit my sister now that I know there are some cool roads to ride for free.